The Older Woman’s Tale

The classroom. Source. Pexels.

by Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, RN, CLNC, Contributing Editor

And there he was, staring out of the window from our office. We originally met on the subway. I literally ran into him exiting the subway train. He had spilled his coffee while walking and I offered to buy him another cup. He had the time and agreed. It was over coffee that I learned he had graduated from his master’s program in clinical psychology and was seeking an internship. I was a clinical psychologist and asked him to stop by my office.

 Weeks later we found ourselves working together on a clinical project.  It was intense, spending long hours researching and spending long hours alone, together.  He had a lot to learn, and as my intern I recognized his ambition.  I had 20 years of experience in the clinical setting, he had none. I was patient with him, his questions, screw-ups, his youthful behaviors.

He was fun to work with.  His name was Gianni, I called him “G”, he called me Ma’am, until one day I put my fingers on his lips and said “please call me by my first name.

And that’s how it all began.

That was when I wished he would have kissed my fingers.  He was the first crush I had allowed myself to have in years.  He was so much younger than me, me, at 55 y/o, old enough to be his mother. What was I doing?  This was a mutual emotional and physical attraction, with sparks, unrestricted by outside influences.  A crush I hadn’t forced myself to only fantasize about, like the others over my married years. He didn’t know my background outside of work nor did I know much about his. Should it matter? Some things are best left unsaid. We were drawn to the mystery of each other.

“Later tonight?”

“So, what are we working on tonight?” he questioned as I handed him a file.  There it was, I felt my body tingle, that intoxicating glow of desire, unspoken by either of us.

“So, what are we working on tonight?” he asked as I handed him a file.

” This……..” he replied, as he slid his hand around my waist. “Let’s do this”!

This sexy very much younger man had me……….and in that very moment that undeniable no-no left me breathless.  I really wanted to “do this.”

Why would I want to take such a risk?  Why not?  He was young, he was hot, and for an older woman, what was I waiting for? I was pretty damn sexy.  I purposely wore appropriate yet sexy clothing, I loved my sexy undergarments, minus the panties (didn’t wear any, intentionally), my boobs were perky, and my nipples were hard.  I was on a hunt, and here was my captive, my hidden desire. This was my time.  The time I craved and wanted.

He was energetic, and open, I liked that about him, and I could teach him more than just research. As we nearly tore each other’s clothes off, he lifted me onto the desk.

My sex drive was unusually and surprisingly high. His dick was very hard, as I kicked my high red heels off and wrapped my legs around him. I could not wait to feel him inside of me. I was wet, pulsating…….orgasmic.

This was sex, raw, enticing………fun, with no other preconceived notions other than just passion.

  We older women have a higher sex drive for the most part than men our age.  My libido required this energy. This is what I had been missing.  I wanted to fuck and to be fucked.  No commitments, no drama, and no one’s business.  Our secret.

It was all that simple………