Jess had just celebrated her thirty-sixth birthday and felt about as old and used up as a woman her age could fee. She was tired and worn out and frustrated and most of all saddened as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was much thinner than it had been in her twenties. Her laugh lines were more pronounced. Her breasts were not as full and perky as they had once been, and her eyes crinkled. Where had the time gone? It seemed that her body had gotten older while her mind was stuck in adolescence.
Jess slipped in to her nightgown then clicked the light off and slid into her single bed. The night was warm and she slept with the window open. She could hear the neighbors' television from the apartment next door. She had Jeffrey on her mind.
Jeffrey was the new IT guy at the high school Jess taught at -- a kid, really. He was only 23, and barely that. But he flirted with her relentlessly. He was a really nice guy so Jess flirted back when no students were around, initially believing they were just teasing.
It was behind the safety of an instant messenger on her home computer, that Jess realized he wasn't teasing.
"I'd love to let you teach me a few things," Jeffrey wrote, including a winking smiley. Jess laughed and told him he should behave.
"I mean it," he continued. "I have a fantasy about being with an older woman. And what guy doesn't fantasize about banging a teacher? And you're hot."
Jess blushed. "There are places in this country where I'd be old enough to be your mother."
"Yes, but you're not my mother," he reminded her.
It was nice to be flirted with and Jess found herself warming to this guy with all his barely 23 confidence.
"Girls my age haven't let go of the bull shit, yet," he told her. "I want a woman who knows how to be fucked without crying about her childhood afterward."
Good lord, has he come to the wrong place, Jess thought to herself. She was quite possibly the most sexually repressed person on the planet.
It wasn't that she didn't like sex. She loved it. But her desires were specific and she couldn't bring herself to give voice to them. Lovers would ask her what she wanted, but she was too embarrassed or shy or who knows what to tell them. As a result, they tended to treat her with kid gloves, afraid of offending her or hurting her. This was exactly the opposite of what Jess desired most.
Jess longed to be manhandled. Nothing was more erotic to her than being held down by a lover, knowing she was at his mercy. She loved to feel teeth on her skin and to feel her hair being pulled. She loved to be spanked.
And it was the comfort of hiding in her room with nothing but her computer monitor that allowed her to reveal these things to Jeffrey, despite her better judgment.
Jeffrey had amazing insight for his age. "I think you're afraid to tell your lovers these things because the element of control is what is most erotic to you," he told her. "You want to relinquish control to someone else, yet telling him to do those things defeats that purpose. You are still in control."
Jess wasn't certain that was the case, but the amount of thought and logic impressed her.
"You know," he continued, "I could make you feel pretty powerless, if that's what you want."
Jess felt her cheeks flushing hot. For a brief moment, she could visualize the experience: his long physique pressing down on her, his thick arms forcing her hands over her head as he sinks his teeth into her shoulder, his knee forcing itself between hers.
"I'm too old for you," she said, banishing the thought for the moment.
"You're only 36," he said, "And besides, I'm not asking you to marry me. I just want to fuck you."
Jess could not help the giggle that escaped her at those words. It sounded really tempting. But she'd never had much luck with casual sex. She found it a challenge to keep from getting her feelings tangled up in things. This was just crazy.
And it was here that Jess excused herself and went to get ready for bed.
And now, as she lay listening to the sound of cars passing on the highway, she imagined what it would be like to meet with someone just to have sex with him. No strings attached. After all, those other one-night things -- those were only confusing because they'd had different expectations going into it. In this case, they'd both know that it was only for this one night.
But only for one night? It seems like it would take many times to get to know each other and please each other. Jess began to imagine the things she'd like to do, to have done.
It was difficult for her to imagine it being mutual. Sex, for her, had always been part of at least the pursuit of something deeper than two people simply pleasing each other. She imagined Jeffrey cold and absent, using her body as if she were not in the room.
And then there was the issue of his age. There were 13 years between them. Wasn't this somehow immoral?
But as the night wore on, Jess began to realize that Jeffrey truly seemed to want to please her. His age would really only matter if they were pursuing something more permanent, but this was just one night. What difference would it make?
And Jess could tell him what she wanted from him, what she needed. She needed to feel safe. If this were simply an exercise in mutual pleasure, Jess felt confident that she could tell Jeffrey what she wanted.
Jess could hardly bear to look at Jeffrey the next day at work. Was he looking at her differently? Leering, perhaps? She couldn't tell. But when he wasn't there, her mind wandered to him. She imagined what he looked like under those Dockers and that Polo shirt -- the coolness of his skin -- the fine blond hair on his legs.
She imagined the stamina of a 23 year old and blushed deeply, hoping with all her strength that no one had noticed that blush.
That night when Jeffrey instant-messaged her, Jess could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She was more than a little disappointed when she read his first message. "Hey," he told her. "I'm sorry if I was a bit aggressive, the other night. I totally respect you, and don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I'll drop it."
"No," Jess answered after some hesitation.
"No?" Jeffrey replied.
"No," Jess repeated. "I've thought about it, and I think that if we talk about it, this could be really great."
"I think it could be," Jeffrey answered. "As long as we both understand that no strings are attached.
"Of course," Jess answered, with some reservation.
They set a date for the following weekend. They would meet at the Holiday Inn, have a couple of drinks, and go from there. They also agreed on a code word, "halt" which meant "stop, I'm not kidding," in case things got out of hand.
Once the plans were finalized, Jess began to feel uneasy. The thought of being with someone who knew what she wanted and really wanted to give it to her was more than thrilling. But she'd never had sex devoid of emotion, before, and feared this would be cold and distant.
Still, despite her reluctance and absolute notoriety for repression, Jess's sense of adventure would not let her back out on this. On Saturday, she arrived at the Holiday Inn and rented a room for them. She left a key at the desk for Jeffrey and proceeded to room 307. She let herself in, dropped her bag by the door and sat down, nervously on the bed. The butterflies in her stomach were on steroids.
Jess tried to find things to do to pass the time until Jeffrey arrived. She flipped through the channels on the television. She checked her hair and makeup a couple of times. She looked at her outfit in the mirror. "Not bad," she thought. And then, with a sick knot, "for a 36 year old."
Jess's heart began to pound when she heard the lock on the door click and Jeffrey entered, carrying a grocery bag and a backpack. "I picked up some wine," he said, smiling.
Jeffrey put down his bags and pulled out a bottle of wine. He sat down on the foot of the bed, pulled off the foil, and unscrewed the cap. Jess supressed a chuckle as she sat down next to him with the two plastic glasses.