Fictional/older woman/younger man.
Older woman=42
Younger man=22
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The last day of my crappy college teaching job was the best day of my life.
I'd been an esteemed French professor (who also taught Physics). 13 years in and my boredom at work had started to show more obviously to my students.
One of my least favorite students (Becca Marshall) kept pointing out (publicly) my numerous misspelled words in my powerpoint notes presentation. This wasn't the first time.
"Maybe take an English class, Ms. Edwards?"
Becca had snarkily added.
I paused my lecture. Stared silently at her.
"How about you shut the hell up?" I blurted out venomously. Yes, quite unprofessional, but I really HATED this young woman.
She sat back, shocked. Blushed a bright red.
Grinning, I continued on with my next slide.
The rest of class was without any disruptions.
However, at the end of my last class of the day, the dean, Mr. Sanchez appeared in the classroom.
We had a good relationship-strictly platonic. Naturally, I assumed he wanted to hang out that night. I teased him:"Your place or mine?"
Usually, I'd joke that to him and he'd just roll his eyes or laugh. This time he didn't even smile.
"Mara," he said softly. He waited until the last student left the room to finish talking.
I stopped gathering my papers and stared at him. What was his deal?
"One of your students complained to me that you embarrassed her in front of the class."
I couldn't help it; I laughed.
"She'll get over it," I retorted casually.
"Mara, you've snapped at students before. This is the last straw. I want you to pack up your things and go. Since we're good friends, I may be able to help you get a summer school job-or..." he paused briefly to glimpse down at my revealing cleavage. "something," he finished.
Cleared his throat.
"I...I don't believe this," I thought outloud.
Lately, within the last 5 years, I'd been feeling chained to my job. Like I made a mistake going into teaching. Now was my chance to really live! I bolted over to my boss and hugged him tightly.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
I exclaimed. He pulled back, blushing slightly. Readjusted his striped shirt calmly as he could.
"If you need somewhere to stay...you're always welcome at my house," he offered.
(I'd been struggling a bit financially the last few months due to car problems and high mortgage rates). I'd shared this to him. I never thought he'd still be so kind to me despite my unruly behavior.
"Thank you for being so generous to me," I said tearfully. I paused. "If there's anything you need from me, as a favor, I'll do it!"
Of course, I'm not a horny guy so I didn't think my offer through completely. I was just so grateful to have such a loyal friend!
Only later, as I stood there, waiting for his response did it hit me. What if he wanted sex or sexual favors? Was I ok with that? He was a married man. Could I really do that with a married man? His wife, Sidney, was such a beautiful and sweet woman. How could I do that to her?
But then he said something that really startled me.
"My son, Antonio, he needs a tutor."
Wow, I'd forgotten he even had a kid. It wasn't often that Miguel spoke of his private life at work.
"And I suppose I'll do it then," I agreed, smiling brightly. Hopefully.
My friend's face lit up. He finally smiled, showing his white lovely teeth.
"It's a deal then."
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Within a few days, I'd packed my boxes and arrived at Miguel's house to stay temporarily. It wasn't long before I realized based on nervous glances, loud voices, and body language, that me moving in had been a last minute spontaneous thing. Miguel hadn't gone over this with his wife. Or his son.
His son had brown soothing eyes, like his father. Nice skin too, free of acne or blemishes. He had black short hair. An eyebrow piercing on his left eyebrow. I thought it looked kind of cool. As Antonio helped me carry my boxes into their house, I noticed also he had a tattoo of a red phoenix on his upper arm.
I wondered what it meant. Why he chose it.
He may have looked similar to Miguel, but Antonio was definitely more shy. He hardly said a word to me, but I heard him mutter words under his breath. I wondered how old he was...he was kind of hot...
I tried to push these sexy thoughts away as the day passed on.
Dinner was a bit awkward and no one said much. I was a bit overdressed, in my red blouse, black tanktop, black capri's, and string of black beads. Black was my favorite color.
Antonio was the first to comment on my outfit.
"Whoa, you look nice," he said, as he took a seat beside me at the table.
I smiled. Maybe this would be a great idea and adventure for me. I looked at him.
He wore a rock band t-shirt (a Metallica one) and shorts.
"You look...nineteen," I replied.
I thought he'd feel insulted, and for a few seconds, regretted my bold careless words.
Instead, he grinned. "I get that a lot. I'm actually twenty-two," he clarified gently.
Overall, the steak was delicious and the red wine was absolutely amazing! I had probably more glasses than I should have had, since I vaguely remember giggling while being helped up to my room by Miguel and Antonio.
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I started my private lessons with Antonio the next night. He was having trouble in math. He really tried his best with the six sample problems I gave him from my old math textbook, but he got four of them wrong.
Watching him struggle was a bit annoying and sad, but helping him better understand multistep equations made up for my former brief feelings of doubt.
Our first session went on for an hour.
Again, Antonio wasn't very talkative like his father, but he was nice and very polite.
Afterwards, as he ran up to his room, I pulled Miguel aside to let him know how it went.
"You raised a very respectful young man," I commented. Pat him gently on his shoulder.
