I'm going to give you an insight into the world of rich successful women in need of younger men. Being an intern to these women usually comes with chores. You are not getting paid good money just to sit their and look cute. You will be expected keep them company on their business trips. Sometimes they are just meetings in the city but other times you fly to another country. For the occasions that your company is not needed you are expected to stay home and keep the house tidy for them. Have dinner on for them if they haven't eaten yet. One thing I can tell you about these women are they are always horny and dont fuck like regular girls so you have to be optimistic for sex at pretty much all times, even unexpected times. The last girl I was with would wake me up in the middle of the night to satisfy her needs. Even when you dont feel like it you just have to put a smile on and get to work.
I got into this trade about 5 years ago. I was a broke budding entrepreneur trying to launch a career. I had nothing to put in but the sweat on my back. To fund my ideas I started working part time in a bakery store for cream cakes to earn a little money to help fund my ideas.
The owner was a dark haired brunette in her mid 40s. She would dress in a white shirt with a sensible black vest and skirt over black tights and we would work side by side everyday, baking cakes, serving tea and seeing customers.
[To be continued] If there seems to be an interest in my story on how I became a richer older woman's "intern", I'll tell. Its pretty lucrative. Its takes a little time to adjust to when you are used to dating girls your own age and being the one "in charge". Powerful women know what they want and when they want it. They have very structured lives on a fixed schedule which makes the relationship seems a little superficial but I think that's just how successful women are wired. They like to keep things organised and planned ahead in advance and they are very career motivated.
It was a small store so our forearms would often lightly brush against each others as we kneaded dough with our sleeves rolled up. For a women in her 40s she had really nice skin. It was soft and welcoming. Anyway as the days went by it started to feel as if our arms were bumping more often. With a little more pressure, lingering for a little longer, just bumping a little more frequently. I would pretend not to notice and continue with my work but I enjoyed these moments. It always felt like there was a spark of energy whenever we touched. I've never been overly successful with women and this small insignificant amount of interaction was enough to brighten my entire day. At the start of every working day I would find myself looking forward to the prospect of having our forearms brush against each others..Pretty pathetic, I know..
Well, it was now the end of the week and the last day before the I was off for the weekend and it was that time of the day where we had to kneed the dough side by side. My heart rate jolted a little at the sight of my boss walking through the service door, looking sensibly beautiful, as always, as she made confident strides toward me by the cake window. The bottom of her shoes making a click as she approached. With a nonchalant tone of voice she says "Hey, user its time to need the dough". We rolled our sleeves up and begin flouring the table. She handed me a slab and took one for her own and we began...
