My New Career

It must be said that I have had better times than the last twelve months have been. The trend started when the firm I worked for collapsed just before Christmas, and it got worse shortly afterwards when my wife ran away with her lover. It seems that my unexpectedly being at home so much got in the way of her sex life. Strange that, because it didn't make any difference to mine at all. There were other minor setbacks too, like when my car decided to take early retirement and when I twisted my ankle badly on my doorstep, but the two major ones were my job and my marriage.

I suppose to be fair I should qualify things a bit. I can't say I liked my job very much because I had a dickhead for a boss, so that had its bright side. As for my marriage, well it hadn't always been that bad. In fact we'd been married for nearly ten years and the first few years were magical. We couldn't have kids, and that was my fault rather than hers, but we shagged like rabbits anyway. Perhaps knowing we were doing it for pure pleasure allowed us to be more experimental and adventurous, and we did pretty much everything a couple can do both to and with each other, so long as it didn't involve either other people or anything illegal. But our adventures slowly got less and less common and less and less adventurous, until finally a token fuck on alternate Saturday nights was about it. Neither of us was happy with that, but by then our relationship had deteriorated to the point where neither of us could be bothered to do anything about it.

I suppose things stopped altogether when Jake came on the scene, but I didn't know anything about him at the time. Strange, isn't it? You live with someone for the best part of a decade, but still don't see the signs. Her departure for mattresses new caught me completely by surprise, I really didn't see it coming and I never even suspected her of playing around, so when it happened I was devastated.

After that and after my ankle had healed I stayed at home most of the time, both because I was broke and because I was sure the neighbours were laughing at my misfortunes, although living on the edge of town I didn't have many neighbours anyway. Apart from the older couple living in the up-market bungalow opposite, the few I had were out at work all day in any case - lucky sods. I was reduced to gazing out of my window and feeling sorry for myself. What I didn't know was that my fortunes were about to change, and not in a way I could ever have expected.

I was at my usual post staring out of the window one morning when a strange car pulled up outside. I was instantly alert, wondering if it was someone chasing me for some unpaid bill or other, and so perhaps I paid more attention than I usually might. I couldn't see who was in it, so I'd no idea if they looked official or not, and therefore I just kept an eye on it. But the driver didn't get out and fifteen minutes later still nothing had happened. Now I began to wonder if it was someone casing the area for a later burglary, not that I'd notice too much if he turned my place over because my ex had already turned me over pretty well. In any case a more obvious target would be the place over the road. But nonetheless I was getting a bit jumpy. Then Mrs Shaw, the lady who lived there, came home from wherever she'd been, hastily parked her car and stared rather furtively at the other car before hurrying down her path. My curiosity antennae instantly went on full alert.

The Shaws are a retired couple, though she is quite a bit younger than her husband. Mr Shaw is well into his seventies, I think, and suffering from the after effects of a severe stroke. He's wheelchair bound and needs constant attention, and so every Tuesday and Thursday, and this particular day was a Tuesday, he goes to a day centre to give his wife a rest and some time to herself. I'd put her probably somewhere around the second half of her fifties, maybe just about into her sixties, although to look at her you would doubt even that. For all her years and the pressure she must live under she is still quite a good-looking woman. Grey haired and maybe a bit on the thin side, but nevertheless still attractive enough to warrant a second glance.

Anyway, after seeing that anxious look on her face I paid even more attention to the stranger parked outside my window, wondering if he had been waiting for her to get home. Sure enough, a few minutes after she had gone in a rather scruffy young man got out of the car and followed her down the path. I could see at once that he was nothing official, he had more the look of a down at heel salesman, the sort you might expect to be selling vacuum cleaners from door to door, especially when he headed straight for the back door. Now I was both curious and very concerned.

When he hadn't reappeared after a while I began to wrestle with my conscience, wondering if I should go and make sure she was all right. For all I knew this man had realised she would be alone and was busy burgling the house and murdering her. But then, it might just be someone she knew who had waited for her to return and they were now sitting chatting and drinking tea together. But somehow I doubted that, given that she hadn't acknowledged him directly when she got home, and so I gave it another few minutes and when the man had still not reappeared I plucked up the little courage I possessed and set out to check.

I didn't have the nerve to simply walk in through the front door in case he turned out to be her washing machine engineer or something and I looked a complete fool, and so I figured the best thing to do was to work my way around outside and take a cautious look through each window as I came to it. Easier said than done. Why do people, especially older people, always plant rosebushes, big thorny rosebushes, right in front of each window? But I'd made up my mind and now I was determined, and apart from that I was born nosy.

The large kitchen was empty, and so was the dining room, so that was fine. Then the lounge was also empty, and that wasn't so fine. That was where I'd expected to find them. I worked my way to the next window. A bedroom, also empty. Then another. The next window was the main bathroom and that was frosted, but I couldn't see any sign of figures through the glass. The dining room was also unoccupied, and so was the study. There was really only the main bedroom left and now I was getting really worried. Had he tied her up and slung her on the bed while he ransacked the house or did unspeakable things to her? I had to find out.

I crept up to that window and very carefully peered around the edge of it. And stopped dead. They were both there on the bed, completely naked and going at it like a pair of rabbits. That was something I hadn't been prepared for, not with a woman her age and a so much younger man. There was no way she wasn't willing either, because she was on her back with her legs wide and her arms wrapped around his back holding him tight on top of her. She was looking directly at me with one of those shocked 'oh no, how embarrassing' looks on her face. I ducked back out of sight, which was a little bit pointless as she'd obviously already seen me, and wondered what the hell to make of it all, and then I very carefully risked another peek through the window. I wasn't dreaming, Mrs Shaw was on the bed, legs apart, being energetically fucked by the young stranger, her bright blue eyes fixed on me as I peered in at them, and making no attempt to push him away. For his part, he wasn't even aware of his spectator and was enthusiastically banging away at his older lover. I ducked back and leaned against the wall, trying to take in what I had seen. It would never have occurred to me that a woman of her age should want a young stud in bed, but she obviously did. Eventually I came to the conclusion that it was none of my business and I quietly made my way back home. At least I could rest happy that she wasn't being raped.

For the next couple of hours or so I couldn't get the sight out of my mind. Never ever did I expect the aging and well-bred Mrs Shaw to have a lover of any sort, and especially not one so much younger and so obviously unsuitable. It wasn't as if she was ugly, I mean, yes she was getting on a bit, but from what bits I could see she hadn't gone completely to seed. I was sure she could have done better than him, probably with someone nearer her own age and standing. But then I supposed there was no accounting for taste. I still couldn't get it out of my mind though, and there was also the thought that I ought to apologise to her the next time I saw her for creeping around like some disreputable voyeur. And then my doorbell rang.

'Can I come in?'

Mrs Shaw did not look as angry as I expected her to be, nor did she look as terribly discomfited as I would have been. In fact I probably looked more shamefaced and embarrassed than she did. We sat opposite each other in the lounge and after a couple of minute's awkward silence she looked across at me.

'I can count on you not to speak to anyone about what you saw earlier, can't I?'

'Of course, I shan't say anything.' I told her, feeling guilty for spying on them.

'Good, because your discretion is important. I didn't expect anyone to see us and I certainly don't want Jonathan to find out.'

'I ought to explain.' I began. 'I saw your friend waiting outside for ages before you came home and when he followed you in I thought he might be up to no good. I didn't mean to spy on you, honestly.'

She didn't comment on my excuses. Instead she said 'I think I need to clarify things a little.'

'You don't need to. I mean it's none of my business who calls on you and what for.'

'Even so...' She seemed to run out of steam a bit. 'Maybe you could make us each a coffee while I work out how to explain?'

I did as I was asked and placed a cup of coffee, in one of my best cups, in front of her before sitting back down and waiting for her to begin again.

'You won't see that man again.' She began. 'He wasn't at all what I wanted.'

Seemed a strange thing to say, but then it was a strange situation.

She sat back, fidgeted, sighed and then launched into a fuller explanation. 'You realise, I am sure, that Jonathan is a good bit older than me, and he's not very well either.' I nodded that I did. 'So although nature has put his fire out, mine is still burning.' She paused again to see if I understood, then went on when I nodded again. 'Now I could easily find someone within our social circle to satisfy my needs, and God knows I've had enough offers, but there's not many of them that I would want to take to bed even if I was prepared to risk them letting it slip to Jonathan.' She broke off again to look me in the eye. 'The point is that the man you saw this morning was someone recommended to me by a friend. He is not my lover in the romantic sense, nor ever could be. He was there for one reason and one reason only, to scratch my itch. He charges for his services and so he guarantees discretion. I hope you will be just as discreet about seeing us together?'

So the man was some sort of gigolo, who'd have thought it? Never mind, not my business. 'I'm not the sort of person to go around spreading gossip, Mrs Shaw. I was concerned for your welfare, that's all.'

She smiled. 'And I believe you, and I thank you for it. However, I just wanted to make you aware of the situation and why I need it keeping private.' She suddenly giggled girlishly. 'Mind you, I don't suppose many people would believe that a sixty-six year old woman still needed sex anyway.'

Sixty-six! I really would not have believed that if anyone else had told me.

'If they went by the age you look, then they would.' I spoke without thinking. I was so surprised it just came out.

She smiled and took a sip of her coffee. 'Thank you. It's nice to receive a compliment.' I could almost see the brownie points clocking up.

We sat silently drinking coffee for a few minutes. It seemed our conversation had finished before the coffee, but there was a question I was getting up the courage to ask.

'If you don't mind my asking?' I began. 'What made you pick someone you have to pay? I mean, there are plenty of men who like older women on ordinary dating sites.'

'Because I already have a partner I love.' She told me seriously. 'I don't need any romantic overtones; they would just confuse the issue. I just needed someone to take me to bed, someone who could satisfy my body without playing with my emotions. I know it sounds cold, but I just want someone to turn up, give me what I want and go away again.'

'And the guy today didn't do that?'

'No, he did not.' She sounded quite indignant. 'He was more interested in satisfying himself. I suspect he is just someone with a fetish for older women, and who wants to cash in on his inclinations. He didn't seem bothered about my pleasure at all. But then I suppose I can blame you in part too, because you did put me off my stride by appearing at the window like that.'

'I'm sorry.' I told her, meaning it. 'I didn't know what was happening.'

'It doesn't matter; I don't think it would have made much difference. As soon as he finished he just rolled away. He wasn't interested in if I'd finished or not, and I hadn't. For the amount he charged I did expect him to at least make an effort. But I'll make very sure the next one will do what I want.' I noticed the words 'the next one' and the heavy emphasis on the 'I'. Obviously she hadn't been put off the idea of paying for sex altogether, but then she could afford it.

'Was he expensive?' I asked, again speaking without thinking. I expected her to refuse to answer on the grounds that it was none of my business, but there had been a kind of connection build between us in that very short time and she answered without hesitation. And then, when she told me his hourly rate I was so shocked I'd spoken before I could stop myself.

'Just for an hour?' I exclaimed. 'Bloody hell, you could have me all day for that.'

There was an absolute dead silence as soon as I said it. Both of us were wondering if I meant it. I certainly hadn't said it with any intention of following through, but I immediately wondered if I could. I mean, I could certainly use that sort of money, but if it would mean having sex with a woman almost exactly twice my age I didn't know if I could, especially one from such a different social class and who had already said that her next partner would have to do things her way. Meanwhile Mrs Shaw was eying me up and down critically as if weighing up the possibilities.

'I don't think I could last all day.' She announced finally.

'Nor could I.' I responded. 'Not without a break anyway.'

There was another long thoughtful pause with the pair of us looking at each other, both having a good idea what the other was thinking but unable to make up our own mind. It was the sort of silence that could have gone on and on until the subject was changed out of sheer cowardice. Fortunately Mrs Shaw was not the sort to let things go without trying to breach the wall from a different angle.

'Are you shocked that an older woman should want to get laid?' She asked me.

'I suppose I am a little.' I admitted. 'I sort of imagined the urge retired when you did.' I tried to make a joke of it.

'That's more often true for men rather than for women. That's why so many older women are left frustrated - like me.'

'I guess so.'

'But you've not got a partner right now, have you.' She changed direction just enough 'So doesn't a young man like you get frustrated too.'

'Sometimes, yes.' I told her truthfully. 'But I don't want another romance right now and I can't afford to pay for it.'

When I said that I hadn't realised how neatly I was setting myself up.

'But I can.' She stated bluntly, saying nothing more as the implications slowly sank in.

'Are you suggesting...?' I asked, trailing into silence.

'I think I am.' She smiled again. 'If you're not too fussy about someone older.'

'No, it's not that.' I hastened to assure her. 'I'm just not sure if I can do it to order. But the money would sure be handy.'

I'd pretty much agreed without realising it with that last remark. It was just a question of settling the terms.

'You'd need to earn it.' She informed me. 'I don't want someone to just have sex with me. I want someone to make love to me, properly, and do it the way I want it done. I've made up my mind that next time I'm not just going to let someone get it off at my expense. I want to be completely satisfied. Is that too much to ask?'

'No it isn't and I like the idea.' I told her truthfully as I realised with some surprise that the idea of taking care of someone else's pleasure appealed to me. My problem was that I didn't want to disappoint her and a pensioner for a partner might be a bit too much for my cock to handle. 'I'm just not sure if it will work.'

'We could always give it a try.' She tipped her head to one side to make the statement into a question.

I nodded slowly, still letting the proposition sink in. After all, there would be no relationship problems, I'd get laid and paid, and she wasn't bad looking if you allowed for the years. But I was still hesitant and she could see it.

'What say I come across next Tuesday morning and we'll see how it goes? If it works I'll pay you and we'll make it a regular thing, and if it doesn't then no harm done.'

Put like that, what could I say? 'All right, why not?'

'Two things.' She stated her conditions. 'You mustn't say anything to anyone - anyone at all.' She paused and looked hard at me 'And my pleasure must come first. Can you agree to that?'

'Agreed.'

And that was that. All I had to do now was wait until Tuesday and I had a guaranteed shag. Well, that was the way I had to look at it.

Tuesday seemed to take a hell of a while to come around, and by then another bill meant that I was even more in need of the cash. I was determined to earn it.

'If anyone ever sees me.' She said as she came in. 'I've come for advice on how to use my Smartphone, is that all right?'

'Yes, fine.' I answered as we went through into the lounge, noticing happily that she had already assumed that this wouldn't be her only visit. 'Coffee?'

'Yes please.' She concurred. 'There are a couple of things we need to talk about anyway.'

I wasn't sure I like the sound of that, but I went to make the coffee without comment.

'Now.' She asked when I came back. 'Do you want to wear one of those silly rubber things? Because I'd prefer you didn't, but if you need to, you can. That other man insisted.'

I'd not heard condoms referred to as 'those silly rubber things' before, but I didn't want to wear one either, and I couldn't see her carrying anything nasty, especially if her previous partner had insisted on using one.

'No.' I told her firmly. 'I'd like it bareback.'

'Bareback!' She had obviously not come across the term before. 'Yes, then bareback it will be.'

'I also need to know.' She continued. 'Are you prepared to try different things to find out what works best for us? Because I need to enjoy myself and so you're no good to me if you aren't.'

'Yes, of course. Whatever you like.'

'I ask because I might want a little variety sometimes, not every time but sometimes, and so I need to know where exactly do you draw the line?'

I didn't know. My experimentations with my ex-wife had never reached that point.

'I don't know.' I told her. 'I've never been pressed to find where the line is.'

'Nor have I.' She assured me. 'We'll have to find out for ourselves.'

I looked at her, wondering for just a moment what I might have let myself in for.

'Don't worry.' She must have read my anxiety. 'I'm not kinky, just maybe a little exploratory at times.'