Susan looked back over the numbers as she sipped her coffee. In the background, chatty morning talk radio spoke of sports and sex positions and someone laughed. There is always laughter on morning talk radio. Something is always funny. But Susan couldn't enjoy it, because there was no time to laugh. She was crunching her businesses' numbers.
Yesterday, seven shipments had made it around the Midwest, but one of her truckers was stuck in Akron, Ohio because of a snowstorm. He wouldn't return for at least three days. She needed to be able to make up for his loss. She accounted for fuel and maintenance schedules. She feared it would take nothing for her business to go belly-up if she didn't look at the accounting numbers herself every morning.
She heard a door squeak and Eric walked into the office down from the loading dock, surprising Susan because of the time of the morning. It was 7:04. She was usually the only one at work until at least 7:50.
But here was her favorite boytoy. Her current fantasy. Eric. He was young and cute and a strong kid. He was 23 and getting a divorce from his high school sweetheart. At the same time, he was back in college.
"Morning," he said. Susan smiled back at him.
"Good morning," she said. She was also getting a divorce from her high school sweetheart, but the difference was the graduating year. She graduated in the time of arena rock, disco and one-night stands in the late 1970s. He graduated in the time of grunge punk, techno beats and one-night stands in the late 1990s.
"I heard Ralph was stuck in Ohio. I was wondering if you were going to need help because of that?" he said.
"I was just thinking about that myself, Eric. Are you reading my mind, now?" she responded.
"Yes, but I'm dyslexic, so it was really confused. It looked like you were thinking Ohio was stuck in Ralph. That would be a very uncomfortable state to have stuck in a person."
Susan laughed at Eric's wit. If she had heard right, he was going to study business at the local community college. He did have that leadership quality needed for someone who wants to be in charge, and she appreciated that. Most of her workers did their 9-to-5 job and went home. That was understandable to Susan, she knew if she had a husband or kids, she'd want to dedicate less time to her job. However, the only things awaiting her were three cats. Two of them didn't even pay attention to her.
Eric poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the break table in the plush office space. He looked at a day old newspaper as she crunched the last of her numbers. It was midwinter, and still dark outside. There was a prediction of a big snowfall for the area in a few days, and the chill seemed ready for it.
There was a silence in the room, broken only by the sips of coffee and the sexual innuendoes via the radio.
"...now if I could have a 21-year-old man again, I'd keep him around," a female comedian bantered on the FM dial.
"I hear you, sister," Susan said unconsciously, then blushed as she realized the 23-year-old was laughing.
"Is that what you want?" he said. "Sorry. I should be more respectful," Eric apologized.
"Oh, Eric. It's okay. It's no big deal. Yes, I'd very much want a 21-year-old. For just an hour or seven. I don't know what I'd do with him once he started talking to me about sports or music, but I know what we could do in the meantime." Eric remained quiet. But Susan decided not to worry about it. She liked flirting with him. And the radio personality backed her up.
"...it's all about recovery time. When guys are young, they recover quickly. Nowadays, if my husband has sex with me, it takes a round of golf and an agreed upon United Nations resolution before he can get it up again..."
"Preach on, sister," Susan laughed.
"...thank god for vibrators..."
"Amen." Susan smiled at Eric. He grinned back at her. Eric stretched and yawned, he strong torso expanding as he inhaled. He turned his head from side-to-side and laughed.
"You work too hard. You need to get a boyfriend. Relieve some stress."
She stood up. This day, she'd worn a navy blue business suit, matching knee-length skirt and white blouse. She stood 5'7 with her two-inch blue heel's assistance. Her hair was cropped short and professional. Her face had the shine of youth, even if some lines tried to admit her age. Her breasts were constricted under her blouse and bra. Something had happened inside her. She had decided that she wanted Eric ... and if he didn't object, they had about 40 minutes before anyone else arrived at her business.
"Too bad I don't know any 21-year-olds who are single, mature and fantasies of mine," she spoke, looking at Eric's outfit. He had worn a blue flannel, gray t-shirt and new blue jeans.
"Yeah. Sorry I can't help you out there," he said as he pushed his chair back.
Susan walked to him, her heels clicking as she came around the table. He sat comfortable. He looked up at her, and a bulge began emerging from his jeans. She stepped her thighs over his legs, and reached down to his hardening member, massing his body through his denim.
"Know anybody who might be a better option for me?" she asked, her fingers rubbing.
"Yeah. I know this one guy ..." he cut himself off by rising and kissing Susan. His boss. His boss who was literally twice his age. She was 46. He was 23. He settled his hands to his her hips as she stopped grinding away with her hand, and started grinding down on him as she lifted her business dress.
"...that's right, ladies. You find some young man with endurance and you use him like a baseball bat at a softball game. Use him to hit it with distance. Then throw him toward the dugout and enjoy your home run..." the radio comedian, who had just been identified as Joanne the Comedian said.
Eric groped at Susan's body, opening three of her dresses seven buttons, and breathing against her breasts. He tried to licked her nipples, but was cut off by the curve of her beige bra.
His other hand played with her thighs, rubbing her ass, and then moving to her panties. He cautiously rubbed the fabric protecting her womanhood and listened to her moan in his ear.
"Yes, Eric. Please..." she whispered.
"I don't know that what we're doing is completely appropriate," he said as he looked at her skin. He giggled in his own humor.
