tagMatureHelp Wanted: Young Male Assistant

Help Wanted: Young Male Assistant

byVon Hauffen©

Note to the readers: My wife wrote the first few passages of this as my present for Christmas 2013, very much surprising me since she has not told me a story in years. Then she gave me poetic license so to speak. After all, this was a present for me. She wanted me to get excited about writing again. And it seems to have worked, at least for the time being.

Maybe everyone will be able to tell where she leaves off and I begin... But either way, I certainly hope others enjoy this present as much as I did. - VonHauffen


This story is dedicated to my former assistant. If only you knew how much I wanted you. - Mrs. Von H.


HELP WANTED: Seeking Young Male Assistant

My name is Julie Boshaunt. I am divorced and just turned 49. I am in charge of a large clothing line; live and breathe work. I live alone with only my animals: 2 dogs and 3 cats. It keeps me occupied when the nights become lonely and long. Everyone gathers on the bed at night but it doesn't take the place of a real human body or the touch of a man.

I need to make some changes in my life, so I have decided to start looking for an assistant for work; to make things a little easier and give me more time to focus on the more important things. Like having a healthy, active sex life with a much younger man. That would work wonders on a woman that is for sure.

So I decide to work late one night, putting together an advertisement for my new assistant. Certain criteria just has to be met:

* No older than 30/preferrably younger is a given, recent college grad a plus

* Not married nor engaged

* His job is his life: all consuming and at my beck and call - 24/7

* Has to be at least 5'9, athletically built and must have great taste in clothes

* Have his own car and own place

* Must be able to travel for extended periods without notice

* Assist Ms. Boshaunt in all things concerning the daily running of Internationally renown clothing and design firm: Manage office. Screen all calls. Requires very independent thinker.

* Escort Ms. Boshaunt to personal and society functions outside of office.

* Must love pets.

Now all I have to do is sit and wait. Hopefully this will be like a walk in the park.


It has been several busy weeks, interviewing men for this new position. They all seem to be distracted when some of the models need to stop by and chat. So I have learned to schedule these little meetings in another part of the building. Less of a challenge the guys totally focused on me.

Today is the final day to make the big decision on who the assistant will be. I have two contenders, two sexy men but yet so different from each other. Interesting to say the least. I am meeting these two finalist for dinner; on separate nights. Think I will start off with "Sean," who is my favorite. Very sexy in all ways that matter. Bedroom eyes and smart as a whip. He has very kissable lips too. Can't wait to taste them. Yummy! Having him meet at my place for cocktails then head over to my favorite restaurant.

For this very important meeting I need to look my sexiest. Black sheath dress, pearl necklace and earrings to match. Black silk stockings and sling back heels. Bought some sexy undies for the occasion, just in case things should go in the right direction (I can only hope). Wear my hair back, that should do the trick; not overly bossy or prissy, at least I hope not.

Sean is a tad early but that works in his favor. Wearing causal chic, very sexy if I do say so. At my insistence he goes to the bar and fixes us both tequila shooters and we go sit outside to talk and get to know one another. He is an only child (like myself), head of his graduating class (not like me in that department). Seems to be very ambitious which is a very good thing for this cutthroat business we're in.

We finally head over to the restaurant, order dinner and continue our conversation on becoming more familiar with each other. He is quick on his feet, extremely focused and very eager to learn from the best, so I ask him how comfortable he would be if our relationship were not just boss/employee but actually boss/lover/employee? I see from his expression that he is certainly interested, so I decide to discuss this subject more behind closed doors, I just want him to know there will be ample opportunities down the road for advancement if he was willing.

Its getting late I suggest that we head back to my house for a cocktail and discuss salaries and duties and what he might expect from me.

I can tell that he is very attracted to me, that if anything my age and demeanor excite him even more, so I make it no secret that he is everything I have been looking for, both in the office and the bedroom. To give him his due, he doesn't let any of this conversation phase him in the least. I can see that honesty and forthcoming will always play an integral part in this relationship. So I decide to just put it all on the line so to speak.

We have settled on the couch in my spacious sitting room that overlooks the bay. At his request I have introduced him to the babies and very surprising (to me at least), my boys, who are normally very standoffish and protective of me took an instant liking to him. My Pom curls up in his lap and my Frenchie falls right to sleep between us. Even the kitties are lounging throughout the place without a care in the world. As if he belongs here already.

"Seems they've all taking a liking to you," I say softly. The vodka tonics and sexual tension make me warm all over.

He just smiles that adorable grin of his and keeps scratching the little one behind the ears, as if to say that he is very aware that all of us have taken a liking to each other so far.

I have my shoes off and my legs curled beneath me; my dress hiked up to upper-thigh; my arm draped on the back of the couch as I delicately trace my fingers from his shoulder to his ear and then as he turns, down the tip of his nose. For some odd reason I just love his nose. I shudder to think of where I'd like to see that nose right at that very moment.

But other things first.

"I'm just going to say it now: I have been on my absolute best behavior this evening. And you will probably never again see me this calm, controlled or - well - sickeningly sweet." I mean it humorously but it comes out slightly bitter even to me. He turns his body so it almost mirrors mine, eliciting only slight grunts from the babies on the couch with us. I can't keep the tips of my teasing fingers away from him it seems: his hand, his knee, trying to avoid touching his...

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a second: Miss Boshaunt. Fortunately I'm always this calm, controlled and... 'sweet.'"

This time that grin turns into a playful little smirk. His eyes have not left mine, not even when I slide my thighs together or lean forward suggestively. That makes my chest tighten just a bit. It isn't usual for me to have anyone hold my gaze, much less bore into my very soul the way he does. Everyone I know is so exasperating with their constant pandering and downcast eyes.

"I'm a bitch," I suddenly blurt, surprising myself. "Some days even worse. As you can see, I am very assertive and abrupt." He starts to say something but I dig my nails into his arm and narrow my eyes. "I always get my way. I also loathe incompetence and despise excuses. In my world - in my life - everything is done the right way the first time. There are no second chances. I need everything yesterday because my clients need everything last week. And on top of that, apologies will get you nowhere. There is nothing I hate more than 'sorry.' I never say it and I expect my people to be the same. Your reputation is my reputation, hence you will be an extension of me - both professionally and privately - at all times."

"Sounds reasonable to me." He tentatively tries to touch my hand but I shoo it away impatiently.

"Then you're obviously not as smart as your resume. And don't interrupt: I'm not through." I scoot an inch closer to him leaving only a fat little French bulldog squished firmly between us. "I will only have this discussion this once. I don't have time to dicker. I don't have time for pussy-footing around someone's emotions since that is all I do with every god damned client, designer and model that enters my sphere. Therefore, being bitchy to my associates is just business to me. It gets things done the way I want them done, when I want them done.

"I can guarantee I will be the most hateful, arrogant, condescending witch all day long and then be able to turn a 180 as soon as the pressure - and the client - goes away. The job part of this is going to be a beast every fucking day; that is a guarantee. My personal assistant being able to handle of all that is a given. But what I really need - and I refuse to settle for anything less - is someone that can also step in and take advantage of those few calm moments between the storms. Reign me in and reset me so to speak. When the stress gets to be too much I want someone who can take it all away. And without me needing to spell it out for them."

I pause to make sure he is getting my entire meaning and see him glance at my lips for the first time. If that had been a client or someone at the office I would have slapped him or blown my top for not taking me seriously, but the fact that he knows everything this position entails already makes my body respond oddly in just the opposite. I know right then, that I instinctively trust him already.

I loosen my tight grip on his arm but don't let him go completely; I can't bear to do that just yet; loving the feel of my palm against his skin. "Should I continue or have I thoroughly made my point yet?"

He looks abashed for a few moments and I think maybe I've overestimated him and gone too far, until he nonchalantly looks at my legs folded beneath me and opens his mouth to speak. All I can focus on are those plump lips waiting to be kissed. Men aren't supposed to have lips as kissable as that.

"I'm sure you've made your point. But since this is the only time we'll be having this conversation, I think you should say your piece now and put it all out there. I certainly don't want any misunderstandings down the road. I need to know what is and what isn't off limits. At the office and... elsewhere."

I feel him slowly sliding his other hand from my knee to the arch of my foot and back again before looking deep into my eyes. I catch myself blinking in surprise and both of us visibly relax. He doesn't take his hand off my leg and I keep my fingers on his arm. We are clearly on the exact same page and I am so ready for this confident, sexy young man to enter my life - in more ways than one.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

I take the next twenty minutes summarizing what my day entails and what his duties will be. Essentially, it is everything and anything I don't have the time to handle, want to handle or just plain didn't think to handle. And catering to the whims of me and every client, no matter how insane. Delegate when possible, but always be responsible. Yes, he better be that good and I let him know it. Seeing he is still unfazed, I skirt around the elephant in the room for as long as possible, which is very unlike me, yet we never stop touching and staring into each other's eyes. I know where this is going and so does he.

In the same direct and controlled tone I use in all things professional, I make it clear that he will need to be at my beck and call at all hours, and that many days and nights we will be inseparable.

"In the days leading up to shows or new releases I will be working you around the clock anyway, so let's just be frank: you will be sleeping at my place or in my suite wherever we happen to be traveling. When an idea strikes me I don't want to have to fumble with some damned phone during the night. Much better to just roll over and fill you in right then. You will of course be responsible for our traveling arrangements and accommodations always. I have sitters that come in three times a day for the babies but there may be occasions that I would prefer you to take care of them - they seem to like you so they should be fine with you in my bed whether I am here or not. There is only one thing left to consider..."

I took his face between both hands and look deep into his eyes to make sure he is ready. And then I cover his mouth with mine.

I had been creeping up to this point the entire evening and now that it was here, it was definitely worth the wait. I felt my mind go completely blank; reeling and spinning from the most breathtaking, mouthwatering kiss of my entire life.

Tongues dueling, jaw aching, lips tender and swollen: mine and his. We tried to breathe through each other, slide into each other's skin. Surprisingly, he was very much the gentleman, so I had to force him to move his hand completely between thighs, where I refused to let it go; all the while raking my nails inside his shirt and groaning from the sheer delight of it all.

Compatible was an understatement. I could have stayed in that lip-lock all night.

In the background the phone was ringing incessantly - for who knew how long - and I blinked and gasped for air as I watched him get up and return with the cordless set from across the room; the most succulent looking bulge in the front of his slacks. I glanced down at a whimper to see two little dogs watching me curiously from the floor.

The next few minutes were a blur. He changed gears and adapted as quickly as I did by producing a legal pad, an iThingy and getting my computer up and running before I could even think about it. He intuitively had whatever I needed on screen and ready to respond without me lifting a finger. I felt myself turning on Bitch Mode as I listened to the high maintenance ninny on the phone, and the worst part was that this delectable young man was going to get the brunt of it the moment I got finished whether he was ready or not. I had planned this "interview" over the Holidays for a reason and now they were bringing me back before its inevitable climax - pun very much intended.

"Well, here's your first and only test. If you don't fuck this up, you may have the job," I told him as I hung up the phone and went to my desk for some files. I explained that I needed him to go to the office where we interviewed last week, pick up a number of critical designs, projections and what not and get back pronto. He had already gotten the gist of what was happening over the phone and was ready to go when I handed him my keys and card to the building.

"We haven't discussed your pay yet, but if you perform to my standards tonight then you should be very pleased with what I have to offer," I said as I ushered him out the door.

Mirroring my raised eyebrow, he smiled with a dimple I'd not seen before and made me flutter - in more places than one.

"Not to worry...I trust you implicitly already, Ms. Boshaunt." He winked and was gone.


He was back within two hours. Outwardly I pretended to be extremely irritated, visibly impatient: I mildly berated him and deliberately interrupted; but inside I was utterly impressed. More so when he proved he had a brain in that pretty little skull of his. He was three steps ahead and had thought of everything I had neglected to mention - even where to find everything in my office. When I saw he'd grabbed the Holy Grail of my trusty black book of contacts and designs I groaned a sigh of relief.

I had removed my jewelry but nothing else, so I led him to my bedroom where photos and papers were strewn all over the king-sized bed. Those and three or four of the babies in various states of excitement when he entered the room.

On the phone with the designer and handling one overblown disaster after another, I purposely ignored his presence for quite some time until he placed another cocktail on the table next to me. I glanced at his cute, tight butt as he walked over to the bed and began tidying up and organizing the mess. It was at least another 10 minutes before the client's high-strung emotions were soothed enough for the conversation to finally wind down just a notch.

I looked over to see the covers turned down and the babies in their beds on the floor, happily chewing on treats he had found when I was occupied elsewhere. He'd pulled out my slippers and laid out my short satin robe that I kept on the bathroom door, neatly on the end of the bed and then lit a number of small incense candles around the room before he came over to sit in the chair opposite mine. Our eyes locked once again, I took a long sip of my perfectly strong tonic and offered it to him, which he accepted serenely.

We sat there close enough for me to place my foot against his leg, which of course I did, while continuing my conversation on the phone. After a minute of feeling my silky toes gliding up and down his skin, he took my foot into his soft but very strong hands and began kneading it expertly. Minutes later, with an air of self-satisfaction I offered him the other and found his crotch with the one I forced him to let go. His hardness made my voice falter. But only for a moment.

I watched as he casually knelt in front of me, hands on my knees, looking up at me sheepishly but with absolute fire in his eyes. This irrationally sexy man, not half my age, so intelligent and resourceful and so very eager to please. What more could a woman ask for?

I leaned back and closed my eyes as I listened to the never-ending, over-emotional chatter on the phone, all the while allowing him to remove my stockings and trail kisses everywhere from knees to toes and back again. The conversation finally came to an end just as his face hid beneath my dress and burrowed purposefully between my legs.

There would have been no stopping him even if I'd wanted to. He had an insatiable hunger for me that I had not thought possible. It didn't matter that I still wore those sexy panties, so recently designed by La Bruna and modeled in Milan by Gisele. He just pushed them aside.

It didn't matter that I'd scarcely acknowledged his presence until five minutes past, or that he hadn't had a moment's rest since I'd sent him to do my bidding hours ago. He just doubled his efforts.

This was precisely what I'd been searching for: a young man that didn't need to ask...just instinctively knew. So I just let myself go. Why hold it back when he knew what I wanted, what I needed, what I had clearly defined as just one more duty for him to fulfill?

His tongue swirled, his lips sucked, he nibbled until I came.

The tension of the past hours drifted away, only to be replaced by an all encompassing bliss. But he gave me just a few short moments to rest before he proceeded to do it all over again, and this despite my few half-hearted attempts to push him away. A couple gently probing but perfectly placed fingers added to the mix, while his tongue continued to perform its cartwheels between my legs and I groaned so loud one of the children barked; but even that was far off in the distance - another time or place it seemed. The now was only that incredible double-climax that he had somehow coaxed expertly and meticulously and with such undeniable flare.

My God, but to have this every fucking day!

With a sigh of contentment I relaxed my legs down his back and ruffled his hair lazily. He grinned - a bit sure of himself - as well he should be after that little performance. I leaned forward and softly captured his perfect nose and trailed the tips of my fingers to its end before touching his lips. He pursed them in order to kiss me but I just smiled evilly and headed to the bathroom with my robe. I left the door partially open as I undressed, leaving him still on the floor by my chair watching me. My Himalayan was demanding his attention now that he was finished with me.

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byVon Hauffen© 14 comments/ 78399 views/ 45 favorites

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