I'd like to explore a tale where a a dirty old man with an open mind explores a relationship with a much younger CD-TG. The intro follows
It was always the little things that stymied Will, as he sat staring at his monitor, watching the clock in the corner slowly digitizing towards 4:00, not that he'd be able to leave at 4:00 anyway. The present problem was how to change the page numbering footer to start at the Introduction of his report instead of the Executive Summary, as if any Executive would read his dribble anyway. Things that secretaries used to do, but now with the lean cuisine style of management, there were no secretaries for mature (older) mid-range professionals such as himself, the few that were left were attached to the Executive Office and basically told him to piss off. And Word 2010 wasn't the same as Word 2007, which wasn't the same as Word 2000, all of which were nowhere near as good as WordPerfect which he had liked.
Her scent reached him long before she started down the aisle past his cubicle. Somehow her perfume perfectly captured the essence of frangipani, and like the sphinx moth he was drawn to her lure, his cock twitched every time she walked down the corridor, which wasn’t an appropriate response for a fast track new colleague. Perhaps not an inappropriate choice of scent, he chucked to himself as he stared intently at his screen waiting for her to pass. If the gossip was to be believed, s/he was one of those CD/TV whatever types, which might even qualify her for special treatment and fast tracking as a ‘minority.’ And like the moth reaching the fragrant but like the nectarless flower, there might be a different fluid between her petals. Not that he was prejudiced, curious was more like - a walk on the wild side and all that, but he knew such was not for the likes of him.
He was totally flummoxed when she stopped at his cubicle, and by the sounds of it put a pile in his in box. Startled he turned, but she was already leaving, without a word. He caught only a glimpse of the mynx as she walked away, a brief profile of her taut pert bosom and then the delightful vista of her tight bubble butt as she sashayed back down the corridor, leaving only her scent and his willy tenting his trousers. He turned back to his computer, his screensaver, Moon River Falls, was on - how long had his trance lasted?
He grunted with satisfaction as his screensaver faded and the document appeared; the last fidget had worked, the pagination was right. He pressed print and emailed the file to himself. It was now 4:30 and he’d collect the hard copy and edit it at home that evening. As packed he remembered the pile of papers in his inbox. Picking up the pile he was puzzled, it wasn’t another insufferable task only a copy of the notice for next week’s departmental meeting, several sheets of blank paper and on the last page a 10 digit phone number, a hand smiley and two words “Call me.” He stuffed the pile into his briefcase, picked up his printout and just made the Go train, thinking to himself “I wish I had the gumption.”
Arriving home, he found the house deserted and was momentarily at a loss until he remembered that Maggie had taken Carl to the camp where he was a counselor for the summer and was staying at her parent’s cottage for the week. He was to join her Friday evening. He poured himself a drink, single malt, why not, and savoured his aloneness, then turned to pull out his report – may as well look it over before figuring out what to have for supper. The sheet with the phone number fell out and lay on the table. He sat for several minute, sipping his drink, staring at the sheet of paper before him, a frission running up and down his spine.
He hated to admit it but she excited him, and it would be even better if she was a he. He walked over to the hall and looked at himself in the mirror, not to bad for mid-fifties, 6’ and a solid 210, still had all his hair with a just little grey showing. He realized that some younger women were attracted to him, they had let him know it too, at the office Christmas party and other less formal occasions, saying they just loved mature Daddy types. But he’d politely declined he was too close to his magic pension date to chance it. Yet he still needed sex, although with Mags and her hot flashes, it was just a little over once a month. So like a lot of mature men, he’d ventured on to the internet. Watching porn and stroking his very average cock, he became a bit of a connoisseur, and although he’d never learned that way gay porn, especially dominant Amazon chicks with dicks was his favourite. .Finally he picked up the phone and dialed the number, Feeling another frission as her heard her breathy alto and slight French accent, “Ello?” Steeling all his courage, eh replied “Hi Miriam, its George, you left your number this afternoon and I was wondering how I might be of service?”