My Financial Planner-bymaninconn|
I have a successful teaching career, a decent home in the NYC suburbs, a decent car in the driveway, along with one for my wife and an old "should have traded it years ago" model that my two oldest kids take turns borrowing. I have an excellent retirement plan, plus contribute heavily to an annuity. My wife is also a teacher, with an identical pension plan.
My problem is that I had no spending discipline when younger, I've had to pay ridiculous medical bills for my youngest son who has special needs and significant health issues, and we are struggling to pay college bills for the older kids. I'm 49 years old, and have a good 10-16 years left to teach. A colleague at school recommended you as a whiz who could help me plan my last steps to retirement. Is there hope for me?
Of course there is hope for you! You have taken important steps already by ensuring retirement security. Let's meet as soon as possible so I can get some specifics. Most of my clients who are teachers prefer to meet for lunch. Give me a call so we can set something up.
So it began. It was as innocent as it could be. Who could suspect that this simple e-mail exchange could put such strong and passionate forces on convergent paths? Who could suspect that a simple meeting of a prospective client with a financial planner could set in motion a chain of events that would turn our world on end?
I had the proverbial good life totally in hand. Two kids were grown and in colleges, already exploring prospective careers. My youngest was a tough one, but he too was moving towards independence. I had a loving wife, lived in a great town, and even had a white picket fence. What more could a guy want?
Well, there was Ann.
I first met her that Friday for lunch. My waitress showed me to the table, where Ann was waiting. She was dressed very conservatively, as a good financial professional should be. She had a smartly tailored suit, in banker's blue, with a just-over-the knee skirt and sensible pumps. Her suit jacket was worn over a silky white shell, which though being constructed of a very sexy "touch me" fabric covered her chest in a "remember why we're here" way. This was all tied together by a simple necklace built around a rather heavy stone that held the fabric securely in place on her chest. She was all buttoned down and ready for business.
So why did I find Ann sexy? You couldn't really see her figure through the camouflage of the suit, which also means she certainly didn't catch my eye with her flair for fashion. Her hair was smartly done, but again nothing was so stylish to catch the eye. She was confident and outgoing, which is certainly attractive, and may even contribute to a person's overall "sexy" quotient, but on its own doesn't exactly stir the soup. Her face was pretty, but enough to be the first woman to grab my attention that way? No.
I guess it was something in her eyes. They were truly beautiful, and combined with her confident attitude she used them to hold my attention. At time I felt they were even holding me captive.
I passed her the envelope I had brought containing all of our financial information. There were copies of everything from life insurance policies and tax returns to pension plans and savings account balances. She perused our situation as we ate lunch, speaking intermittently as she quickly became familiar with my financial state.
I became aware that I was staring at her. Each time her head came up from the paperwork and she turned to speak, it jolted me from deep thought. I don't believe she noticed how distracted I was because she was so intent on exploring my money world as full as possible in this brief encounter. When we stood to go, I realized that I had become slightly aroused during the meeting, and found myself having to pause while paying the check, to let the effects of that arousal soften a bit before walking to the cars.
We stopped beside her car, and she looked at me. Her eyes stuck on mine for a moment. Had I said something or done something to warrant this? Or had she somehow noticed why I was walking "stiffly" when we left our table. No, it was all business. She told me that she would look over my numbers in depth, and asked if we could meet again Monday at the same time and place.
I couldn't shake the image of her eyes from my mind. All afternoon, my students caught me in various states of distraction. I left school as soon possible. Friday afternoon traffic was usually the most miserable encounter of my week, but today it afforded me plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts, alone with that image of Ann's eyes burned into my memory.
I envisioned meeting her again Monday. In my mind her skirt was a bit shorter. Well, more than a bit. Her suit was considerably tighter, and that shell beneath was considerably more low-cut, so now her necklace dangled between the two luscious breasts forming that amazing cleavage….DAMN!
I stopped just short of the car in front of me. If I wasn't careful, I could wind up fired for daydreaming in class, or worse in the hospital after rear ending someone in traffic. And then there was this problem that was increasingly cropping up between my legs. I felt like I was a sixteen year old again, with an erection building at the mere sight of a cute girl. But Ann was more than a cute high school girl, and I was more than a drooling, hormone driven sixteen year old.
Apparently I was a drooling, hormone driven forty-nine year old. A drooling forty nine year old that was now home, with a wife and kids inside, and an entire weekend ahead. A weekend I would spend distracted, thinking lustfully of Ann.
It was a pleasure to meet you today. I am glad you feel I have some options in my finances as I approach the late part of my career. I am anxiously looking forward to meeting you again on Monday to see the wonderful possibilities you have to offer me.
Thanks for considering me when choosing the very important services I offer. I realize there are many professionals in my field that can put your mind at rest about what are very intimate matters, but I guarantee you will be satisfied with how I am able to take care of you. I am really looking forward to sharing my ideas wit you Monday. See you then!
It wasn't a particularly noteworthy e-mail exchange, unless you had been dreaming of this woman the way I had. Reading it over and over had me practically vibrating with the excitement of seeing her again on Monday.
She wasn't that different than my wife Nancy. She was a little shorter, but built similarly with nice curves where a woman should have them, a pretty face, and gorgeous eyes hiding behind those "school ma'rm" glasses.
Nancy and I had slowed down a bit sexually, but after all we were both 49. We still made love a couple of times a week. Yet now, as I was pondering Ann's effect on my mind, I couldn't keep my hands off Nancy. We made love every night that weekend, and again early Sunday morning while Jack, my youngest slept. While I probably should have been pleased that there was a new spark at home, the fact that images of Ann continually came to mind every time Nancy or I came while making love was troubling.
Monday morning, I managed to keep my mind on my job, but when lunch time came I could feel the rush of adrenaline hit me again and again. It was the last week of school and the kids had finals, so we were on half days. I raced to my car at lunch, free for the entire afternoon. There would be no reason to run away from this creature this time.
When I entered the restaurant, Ann rose from her table and strode to meet me. The suit she wore today, while still conservative, brought back eerie resemblances to what I had envisioned her wearing in my daydreams. Her skirt was shorter, revealing a beautiful set of long luscious legs. She was again wearing a silk shell beneath her jacket, and though still with a conservative high neck-line, it was considerably more form fitting, and he jacket was unbuttoned. I could see the outline of a beautiful chest stretching the material of the blouse, and the unbuttoned jacket would open up enough to give me occasional glimpses of her nipples poking at the thin weave.
She stopped me as I entered the dining room to tell me her husband had joined her for drinks and lunch, and ask if I minded that he was present. She offered to send him to the bar while we talked. Suddenly, I felt like the intruder and offered to reschedule. When she said she really wanted to show me what she'd come up with, agreed to stay., but wouldn't hear of her dismissing her spouse.
As we arrived at the table, the waiter was delivering a second martini to Ann's husband, Mike. I assumed it was the second drink because the waiter was removing an empty glass from his place. As Mike rose he appeared somewhat shaky making me think the couple may have started well before I arrived. When Ann introduced us, his actions and speech made me suspect he was three to four martinis into lunch.
I sat on the outside edge of the booth On Ann's right, with them both on the inside with their backs to the wall. Ann began to show me what she had found, clearing space on the corner of the table for her paperwork. As we ate, she ran through several options and strategies she thought were appropriate for my situation.
As I leaned to my right to grab a bite of my lunch, I noticed her fidgeting in my peripheral vision. She stopped as she continued on her presentation, but she began, even more aggressively as I looked to my plate again. This time I noticed Mike wince as I focused my attention back to my left. Ann was fidgeting with her skirt. I asked if they were ok, and she blushed deeply while Mike seemed to snicker. I stole a look down at her fidgeting to see that her skirt had been pulled up a significant amount while I was looking away.
I feigned looking towards my plate, but could see Mike move to reach his hand towards her leg again. Without looking back to broadcast my intentions, I reached my left hand under the table as he lifted her skirt again. He brought his hand down from exposing her to find my hand hovering above his wife's thighs, between her legs and his teasing touch. He stopped for a moment, letting his hand rest on mine.
"One of us has serious business here today Mike." I said in a low voice, "Perhaps the other should leave until a time when Ann can give him her full attentions."
I pulled my hand back stood, folded my napkin, and left the room. As I stopped at the front desk to pay my bill, I could see Ann furiously scolding Mike. As they rose to leave, I headed to the parking lot. I unlocked my car and was about to get in when Mike came stumbling after me.
"Jon, wait." He stammered. "I'm sorry, I was stupid. Please don't take it out on Ann. I got here too early and had a few drinks before either of you arrived. She just looked so good I couldn't keep my hands away. I should have stopped playing with her when you got here. Her manager won't tolerate a mistake like this, and she could lose her job if this gets back to him."
Ann came scurrying out of the restaurant, calling to Mike not to make things worse. As he turned to look at her, he stumbled on his own drunken feet, and fell, knocking his head on the car next to me in the process.
"Damn it Mike," Ann exclaimed. "You can't drive home, and you can't leave your car here overnight. It'll be towed!"
I helped Ann get Mike up and into her car. I also offered to drive his car to their house on the condition she bring me back to get my car. She agreed reluctantly, not wanting to involve a client in her personal life. I reminded her that her husband had involved me in her life in a very intimate way just minutes ago, causing another deep blush. She gave me Mike's keys, and I followed her to their home.
When we got to their home, I helped her get Mike out of he car and up to their bedroom. He was really feeling the effects of the martinis from lunch, and I was worried the alcohol might be masking injuries from his parking lot stumble.
"I wouldn't worry too much," Ann assured me, "he always gets this way from the alcohol. I'd be worried if he were acting any other way."
We got Mike situated and it was time to take me back to my car. She stopped me by the bedroom door.
"Listen Jon," she began, "I feel very awkward about what went on at the restaurant. I put you in an awkward position because of Mike, and we never got to really get anything accomplished with your financial plan. I have tomorrow off, and will probably be here nursing Mike's head. Could you come over and give me another chance to treat you like a client should be treated?"
"Sure," I answered. "I really have no objections to how you acted. Actually, I should apologize to you."
"Well, I probably could have handled that in a little more gentlemanly manner," I replied. "If I didn't cross a boundary there, I was very close."
"Well, It was as close as any other man has come to that part of my body since Mike and I married. Mike had me nervous enough, for a second I was afraid you intended to join him, but you were actually defending me! It was really kind of touching, Jon."
I thought for a second, then asked her "Does he pull stunts like this often?"
She sighed. "Mike is usually quite gentle and loving, but sometimes he can be pretty perverted, especially when he drinks. He seems to be drinking more lately, and it makes him less inhibited. We were supposed to have a nice afternoon together after I met with you, but when I got to the restaurant, he was already well on his way. Every time we get a chance for a romantic time lately, he drinks and winds up pulling some sexually…"
She stopped talking because I had leaned over and kissed her. I couldn't stop myself. Here we were essentially alone in her house, with her husband passed on the bed. I had been daydreaming about her so much, seeing her get worked up about a lost romantic encounter with her husband struck a chord somewhere deep inside me. As she talked those eyes of hers just lit me up further inside, and I had to kiss her.
She wasn't kissing back, but she wasn't pushing me away either. I wrapped an arm around her back to pull her close. She didn't resist, but she also didn't exactly melt into me either. I could feel she wasn't wearing a bra as I rubbed my hand across her upper back. It all came clear to me. The more shapely suit, the leggier look of the shorter skirt, her husband at a business lunch and his "impatient" act of sliding her skirt up under the table. Ann's meeting with me was only a footnote on a day that meant something important between her and Mike.
I broke the kiss, to find myself looking right into those big brown eyes. I looked in them for what seemed like hours trying to read what she felt. It was actually probably just a couple seconds that I was caught in her gaze. That was all she would have needed to pullback her hand in enough of a windup to…..
"Whap." Her open palm caught me right side of my face with resonance and pain. My head spun to the left with the force, but snapped back to our eye to eye gaze.
"Always make them say 'No' three times before you give up."
I realize I was walking on thin ice here, and my actions were incredibly presumptious, when that old adage my grandfather had taught me sprung to mind. She hadn't actually said "No" but her intention was certainly clear.
"What the hell are you doing!?"
Mike had sat up in bed. He had apparently been more conscious than we thought, and had noticed the sound of her hand "caressing" my face with such gusto.
"Nothing darling," Ann responded, "We were just going to the restaurant so Jon can get his car."
She continued to glare at me. I remained eye to eye, in a ready to kiss you again posture.
"Actually Mike," I added my answer, "Ann had just told me she had a special romantic day planned for you, and you blew it with a multiple martini lunch. I just thought it might be nice for me to fill in for you so she wouldn't be disappointed,"
I then lowered my voice to address Ann more than Mike "and I never disappoint."
"Well I think I should have a say in that." He tried to stand but staggered, and fell back to sit on the bed looking at us.
"Of course you should," I said, "but you can't stand up. That means that I have one say in it, and Ann has the other."
Our eyes remained six inches apart. I could feel her breath on my face, smell her perfume, feel the heat from her skin. I closed the distance and kissed her again. Even though she maintained her non-committal approach, neither kissing back or pushing me away, this time I gently slipped my tongue through her lips, but not far. My hand crept up her back again, but this time I focused more on the side of her back, lightly brushing the base of her breast on the side.
"Whap." Same resonance, same pain, other cheek. My head spun to the right this time, and once again I returned immediately to an eye to eye gaze.
"Always make them say 'No' three times before you give up."
Thanks Grandpa. I took that as a second "No." But she wasn't backing up either. Though her slap was forceful, maybe her "No" wasn't. Then again maybe she was just being a strong woman exhibiting her strength. Either way, it was very sexy.
"There!" Mike bellowed. "She had her say. Now you can go."
"Hey Mike, did you hear her tell me to go?" I asked. Ann's glare remained level, and I decided to never play poker with this woman. "She slapped me, but she didn't tell me to leave. In fact, she hasn't said anything. Maybe she's waiting for you to make a move you can't make."
Ann's stern face softened a bit at this. There was even a hint of a smile crossing her lips.
"I think she's really pissed at you," I chided. "First you get drunk on a day she feels is very special. I'll bet you forgot to notice her incredible legs, and how they go on forever beneath this rather short hem? Does she dress like this every day for work Mike? Or was it just for someone special? Hey Mike, if you can't handle that, let me know. I'm can."
Ann's eyes began to sparkle. I was making definite progress, but I was down to one remaining "No." I didn't want to push it here.
"Hey Mike," I continued, "what did you have in mind when you were hiking up her skirt in the booth today? Just copping a little feel? Or were you actually thinking you could pull off something more involved in a lunch rushed restaurant while she entertained a client?"
"Well…" he blushed, and obviously had no idea how to answer. I had an upper hand on the situation, and his wife wasn't defending him. She actually seemed interested in his answer, or maybe how he would handle this situation that he had done so much to create.
"Were you trying to embarrass her? A little public humiliation as foreplay?"
She turned her head and cocked an eyebrow in the cutest inquisitive look I can remember.
"Maybe you have a thing for having an exhibitionist wife! Is that it Mike? Do you want to show Ann off in public?
"Well, look at her," he went on "she's hot."
"She is that Mike, and you know what?" I continued to bait him. "She feels pretty hot too. Is sharing her your secret wish Mike? Was that what you had in mind? Having a stranger take your beautiful wife in his arms?" I put both arms around her at this point. Still No objections came from Ann, but still no encouraging signs. I had no cheeks left to slap.
"You wanted to share her all along! Is that it Mike? Would you get off on seeing me make love to your wife on a special day when you couldn't perform?"