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That might be the end of the story, but two years later Jimmy Frawley graduated and started at the bottom in his family-owned financial investment firm.

Over the next two years, on his own merits, he was promoted. One day his father called him into his office. "Jimmy, the Board of Directors has negotiated the sale of the firm. The new owners, Galehouse, Becker and Solomon have agreed to keep on most of our employees, including you. Your future is bright, son."

Nothing at the firm seem to change until one day he received a message to report to the partners' suite. His mind was churning. His evaluations were excellent. Was he getting a promotion or were the new owners reneging on their promise to keep all the old employees?

When he arrived, "oh yes, come with me, Mrs. Becker will see you immediately."

He didn't make the connection. There was only that weekend with Sandra Becker. In the four years since, there'd been lots of women. Many were one-night stands with nameless women. They were all in his age group. Sandra Becker was barely a distant memory.

"Mrs. Becker, Jim Frawley," the reception said as he led him into the posh office.

Seated behind the big, executive desk was a woman who looked like she was in her mid-forties, but was in fact seventy. "Mr. Frawley, I suspect you don't remember me," she said as she got up from behind her desk.

She was tall, statuesque and carried herself with style.

It suddenly dawned on him. It flashed through his mind, that sweet pussy, the incredible fucking and his first blowjobs. "Ummm, Mrs. Becker, nice to meet you."

"You mean meet me again, Mr. Frawley. Come in, have a seat." She closed the door behind him. "I'm very disappointed that you don't remember me, but then again, a handsome guy like you must have so many girls."

"I-I-I do remember now. Sorry about not calling." He was embarrassed.

"I'm not sure why a sixty-six-year-old woman would expect a boy like you to want to have anything to do with someone like me? How old were you then?"

"Nineteen."

"That means you must be twenty-three now. Are you married Mr. Frawley."

"Yes, twenty-three. No, not married, ma'am."

"In a serious relationship? And cut out the ma'am stuff."

"Nothing serious, Mrs. Becker."

"Now, Mr. Frawley, this will not impact your employment status, but I'd like to have dinner with you tonight."

"Um, Mrs. Becker, it's been too long. I think we have a lot of catching up to do," he smiled, wondering if she had in mind what he was remembering.

"I'll make a reservation at the 2nd City restaurant in the Illini. 7 PM?"

"That sounds good. I'll see you then, and Mrs. Becker, it was nice to see you again."

For the rest of the day, Jim wondered if dinner was all she had in mind. On one hand, she had to be seventy at least. On the other hand, just four years ago, Mrs. Sandra Becker was an incredible fuck. If he had a third hand, he'd note that the last woman he'd slept with was over a month ago, and if he remembered correctly, it wasn't great, but she was

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