In my teens, the only time that I routinely saw Ellen Thomas was racing through her house to her son’s room, usually to play video games. I didn’t go out of my way to see his mom or talk to her, but I usually got a cheery ‘Hello’ from her if I paused long enough for that short conversation. Occasionally, I ate over and saw a little more of her and she’d politely ask me about school or sports or something current.

Jake and I had known each other since sixth grade when he moved into our neighborhood with his single mom. I never knew what happened to his dad; he just wasn’t there and never had been, as far as I could tell.

Jake was shorter than me, and had an outgoing personality. I was more introspective, but stood well over six feet. I filled out and got muscular in high school. He bulked up a little too much. He liked a wide variety of girls. I dated only a few girls in my class without any great enthusiasm. I felt glad to be in his circle of friends, and he told me that he liked having a ‘brainiac’ as a best friend. Of course, we both liked video games and spent hours each week in front of his large TV set battling trolls, aliens, or some other game. After he went to college out west, our get togethers became rarer since he wasn’t home, but we did keep in touch electronically and even gamed some. I was a serious student; Jake wasn’t.

The rare and casual contacts with Mrs. Thomas changed at the end of my junior year at the local university. At the beginning of that summer, she suggested that I get a summer job at the country club where she worked as the Social Director. I did. She informed me that everyone that worked there did so on a first name basis; thus, she became Ellen and I was known as Josh.

My summer job was to be a ‘General Utility Outfielder’. I was a ‘gofer’ and anything else the club managers wanted me to be. Officially, by title, I was an Aide. One morning or day or week, I’d be assigned to the pro shop and be herding golf carts around, cleaning them, and recharging them. Another time, I’d be a bus boy in the restaurant, particularly on Tuesdays, when the Ladies Club met. I had tried for internships or jobs more relevant to my college major, but there were none to be had that year, at least nearby.

I was a few months from being able to serve alcoholic drinks, but I could clean the bar area and restaurant. I was put in charge of the ‘Club Rooms’ where mostly card games and Mah-jong took place during the day, and poker games at night. I washed the bathrooms. I stocked supplies all over the club. I checked the pool chemicals. I even watched over some young kids as their mothers played tennis.

I got assigned to the Social Director to help decorate and conduct the bi-weekly Saturday evening social events. I think Ellen was pleasantly pleased; I certainly was. She, because I had a good reputation as a mature and follow-through kind of guy, and I’d been a good student, which she said showed merit. She always thought I was a good influence on her son.

I was pleased to help her because I’d be working for someone that I knew and liked. Moreover, although I’d never framed the thought before, I’d be helping a ‘looker’. Ellen was a beautiful older woman, and I’d just woken up to that fact after frequently seeing her for years when she was ‘just’ Jake’s mom.

The first afternoon I worked with her we were in the main dining room doing set up. I got my first chance to seriously watch and interact with her. Why hadn’t I paid more attention to her growing up and being at my best friend’s home. My eyes opened wide as we worked.

Ellen was sexy, hot, beautiful, and vivacious. She had a bounce to her step and was infectiously happy, animated, active, and optimistic about life. More to that, she was beautiful with a capital ‘B’. God had graced her with perfect proportions of every curve, every line, every swell, and every crevice, as far as I could tell. A model with her looks would want for nothing, but she chose to work in the club almost out of the public eye. Her looks were a natural gift, but she seemed immune to it all and I never saw an instant of conceit or haughtiness. She was pure delight and open to everyone.

The country club was a new scene for me. My family didn’t belong, and I was sure that was a money thing based on some of the numbers regarding membership costs that I learned. These folks were on the rich side of life. Thus, the whole experience was new for me. Ellen knew this and would give me short instructions or observations that helped me get used to the scene, fit in, and be more useful. She knew that I was a newbie.

That first social event that I worked on with Ellen was a Father’s Day Dance in mid-June. Ellen discovered that the nearby schools no longer did daddy-daughter dances. Thus, the club would host one for the members. Based on sign-ups, the idea was popular. Early afternoon of the event, I laid out the temporary dance floor in the main dining room – large six-foot square sections of polished wood flooring that locked together atop the plush carpeting into a smooth thirty-by-third-six-foot dance area.

I put up some garlands, banners, and small signs with famous quotes about fatherhood and how nice their ‘princesses’ were. There was also a photo gallery Ellen had assembled of many of the father-daughter pairs in the club, some with mother’s and others in the pics. Another highlight in the seating area was an area that contained many ‘Dad Toys’ – things most dad’s liked when they were younger: some sports paraphernalia, a model railroad with a four-car train running in a loop, someone’s stamp collection, an X-Box, some books, a guitar, some LPs, cassettes, and CDs, and more; Dad hobbies. In another corner, were more girlish hobbies and a wide-selection of dolls and a large and elaborate doll house.

I unfolded the bandstand from the wall where it was usually stored, since there’d be a live band playing – a five-piece combo that did the usual gigs at the club, I learned. We finished at five o’clock, just as a few of the band members showed up to set up their electronics and instruments. The start time for the cocktails and dinner event was six o’clock.

I had worked in jeans and a t-shirt, but Ellen had me bring in some ‘nice’ clothes to change into for the evening event. I was to be there through the event and then help close up. I worked long hours that day, but I earned a day off with pay. I showered, shaved, and dressed in the men’s locker room. I was ready before six.

Ellen had also changed at the club into sexy spike heels and a beautiful maroon cocktail dress that displayed some cleavage as well as a sexy pair of legs. – more delicious curves. Suddenly, I found myself really checking out my buddy’s mother and she registered high on the MILF scale, and also like an older version of the proverbial ‘girl next door’.

I was smitten.

She put me at a table by the door, being a ‘cheerful greeter’ and checking in the daddy-daughter couples as they arrived. I was surprised that I knew some of the ‘daughters’ from school and the university. I tried to exude joy and welcoming vibes, and, as I was supposed to do, aimed people at the open bar. A piano player was entertaining in that club area before the band would start during dinner. Soon, there were over a fifty couples signed in, with a few more still scheduled to arrive. The place was a happy buzz of activity.

I did a hundred little things to help make the event a success, often at Ellen’s suggestion: help at the bar, help serve the tables, and more. The two of us sat together off to the side briefly for dinner so I wasn’t hungry. She was so thoughtful and so nice to talk to. The dinner was a great taste sensation. By nine, the place was sorted out, tables bussed, and a lot of clean up done. The party pretty much devolved into drinking and dancing from there on. My duties slowed.

Ellen came up close to me and said, “Josh, please dance with me?” We were standing watching the band play. I balked but not so she could see. Yes, I knew how to dance, but with my buddy’s ‘hot’ mother? This seemed beyond strange, but I bowed and smiled and off we went.

I took her into my arms in the formal dance position, and we started in on one corner of the dance floor. We danced on and off the rest of the party, which ended at eleven o’clock. Most of the couples had left by then anyway. By the time the band played the final number, a slow song again, Ellen and I were dancing quite close together. I was behaving myself, but I was having a major fantasy every other second about Ellen, and they were all romantic in some way. She smelled delicious. I loved holding her. I did keep trying to forget that she was my friend’s mother. The closer we danced; the happier Ellen seemed to be, and, well, me, too.

When everyone had left, I did a quick change back into jeans and my tee, and quickly folded up things to prepare for the morning crew. The club didn’t do breakfast, thank heavens. Fold-up took about an hour. At least the heavy stuff was done, and the trash put away. Ellen had also been racing around returning things to ‘club normal’.

Ellen came and gave me a side squeeze as we surveyed the club room. She thanked me for all the help. She briefly put her head on my shoulder. I detected that the move was also a sign of affection. I headed home.

We had other events over the summer that played out almost the same: July Fourth, a barbecue dance, ice cream party dance, Hawaiian Statehood Day Dance, and then a Labor Day Dance. There were roughly two weeks between events. I danced now and then with Ellen at each of them, I think to our mutual delight. We were comfortable dancing close with each other.

Ellen was exceptionally thankful for my work, and told me again and again how she wished that I could remain full time, instead of returning to college. The concession I made was a promise to help her with three ‘really special’ events in the coming year, specifically, the Christmas party, New Year’s Eve party, and Valentine’s party. These were the hallmark events at the club.

I was studying computer science and electrical engineering in what was to have been a four-and-a-half-year program. I’d routinely signed up for an overload each semester since I started and fit in some home study courses over the past summers. I was determined to make the whole degree program in four years. Many students went the other way and took it easy, and made it a five-year degree.

I kind of lost touch with Jake. He went to a university out west, spent the summers out there, and seemed to be having a ball based on our rare communications. The place sounded like Partyville instead of an academic institution. I kept reminding him to keep his eye on the ball. At least, I’d see him again at Christmas break this year. Jake wouldn’t be home until the day before Christmas.

I focused on my academics, but did have a few dates with co-eds that I met in some of my courses. Nothing got serious, but that’s not to say that things didn’t get sexual. No girl was all that interesting to forge a long-term relationship with, however.

The Christmas party at the club was a week or so before Christmas on a Saturday night. I called Ellen and told her when I finished semester exams and my break began. She wanted me at the club every second that I could spare. She sounded desperate.

I showed up the day after my last exam, and she put me right to work putting up many holiday and Christmas decorations around the club. She and another volunteer had put up some before I arrived. We decked out six trees with lights and ornaments around the club. Holly and garlands went up everywhere. Mistletoe was placed in strategic locations, and that led to an unusual incident.

I’d just finished putting up some mistletoe over a doorway to the main club room, when Ellen showed up. She looked at what I’d done, smiled, and then pulled me into a comfortable hug. She looked up at me and then gave me a pretty long and sensuous kiss on the lips. I kissed back. This was really nice. Wow, I was having a real ‘hot’ experience with my friend’s mom. My head went into a spin.

As she broke away from our epic kiss, she looked at me kind of in surprise, fanned her face with one hand, and then went off on some errand almost at a run. The rest of the day, we were all business and neither of us spoke of what had happened. More had ensued than I realized and it would take me a long-time to realize that.

I danced with Ellen at the Christmas party. Sweetheart that she was, she invited my parents to the event. This was a special event for them. We all sat together at one of the large tables. I danced with Ellen and my mom, and we had a great time.

At least for the New Year’s Eve party we didn’t have to do much decorating. The Christmas stuff was still up and festive. There were also big signs proclaiming the New Year and reminders to make resolutions. One addition included an immense television set so the whole room could watch the ball drop in Manhattan at Times Square as the club had their own celebration.

Ellen and I danced many numbers together – fast and slow., leading up to midnight. We were together when the New Year arrived and when the din in the room almost hurt my ears. Ellen whirled around in front of me, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me again – not once, but several times. The kisses were almost like she was testing to see whether she still liked it as much on subsequent kisses. She apparently did. The kisses were epic and I didn’t want to stop either. We’d pause, check-in visually with each other, and then have another long kiss. We were off to the side and no one paid us any attention. I think we kissed for five minutes.

After those minutes together, along with the rest of the room, we toasted each other with our champagne, and then got in an awkward conga line dancing around the room and the other dancers. The whole event was a gas with lots of noise, music, and cheering.

Jake had been put on academic probation at his college, meaning his GPA had dropped significantly below 2.00. His school suggested that he take make up classes, preferably someplace else. To put it bluntly, he’d flunked out. He acknowledged to me that he had partied a little too hard and cut too many classes. He signed up for some make up courses at the local university that I attended, but I could tell that he still wanted to party more than study. Rather than live at his mom’s house, he got an apartment with three other guys near campus. He’d also gotten a part-time job at a hot club. I was still saving money living at home. It wasn’t the greatest thing to do at age twenty, but it worked and I owed only a little in student loans relative to many of my classmates.

My twenty-first birthday was in late January, but the event passed without much fanfare. My parents took me out to dinner and I had a ‘legal’ glass of wine with the meal. I’d always been able to drink at home, but never felt the urge to indulge much.

I broke away from my studies to help Ellen decorate for the Valentine’s party as I’d promised. Ellen asked me whether I had a girlfriend or dated. I told her that I did date occasionally, but that I’d never had a serious girlfriend. I explained that I’d been too nerdy in high school, and in college I was pushing for grades and an early graduation. I did note that now that I was almost finished, and that I should think about something more serious.

In a reciprocal question, I learned that Ellen divorced her husband when Jake was little because he cheated on her multiple times. She laughed and said it was the best decision that she’d ever made. I learned that Ellen ‘got knocked up’ when she was fifteen and that Jake’s arrival when she was just sixteen was the result. She persisted with her education, however, despite going through with a shotgun wedding. I quickly calculated that Ellen was thirty-six or so. Her marriage had lasted four years.

Ellen asked about my plans post-graduation. I explained to Ellen that I had a job lined up at Avitron Electronics, an avionics manufacturer one town over from ours. The pay would be exceptional, and I planned to finally moving out of my parents’ home to some apartment.

The theme of the Valentine’s party was, of course, romance. Besides all the red hearts, red flowers and garlands, there were pictures of kissing couples everywhere in the room and at the dinner tables. Red centerpieces with flowers adorned all the tables.

Ellen and I sat at a table in the back of the room when we weren’t dancing or policing the room in some way. She was wearing a hot red dress and red shoes that carried the night. I thought that she was the prettiest woman there and complimented her. We had a lively conversation about our lives and values, too. I found myself hanging on every word she said, and she seemed to suffer a similar fate with me. We liked each other and knew it. Later, I realized that I might have been interviewed for a new position – boyfriend.

We did kiss a few times during the party, plus we held hands and at one point she pulled my arm around her at leaned into me. Romance was in the air at the event, plus we were in the shadows so no one especially noticed us. Besides that, we were part of the hired help so were invisible to many in this rich crowd.

After the event ended, we both did our thing about cleaning up so the burden was eased for those that picked up from us the next morning. Ellen surprised me in a big way when she floated back into my arms, put her arms around my neck and started to make out with me, big time. No one else was around, so there seemed to be no stopping us.

I remember somewhere around the fifty-eighth kiss, with tongue, briefing recalling that Ellen was my best buddy’s mother. I pushed that concept away and went back for more hot kisses.

Ellen asked whether I wanted to follow her home. I said, “Yes, more than anything, but a lot has happened between us over that night that I think we both needed to mull over.” Ellen started to look dejected, but I went on, “On that note, however, could we do something together tomorrow? I don’t want to be apart from you.”

Ellen nodded energetically and grinned. She seemed just like somebody my own age. She said, “Yes, please. Casual, and pick me up at noon. I know a cute place to go for lunch.”

Our first ‘official’ date lasted about twelve hours from noon to midnight. I’d never been with a girl that long at one time, and even then I didn’t want it to end. The discussions we had were mindblowing for both of us. Oddly enough, the first thing we talked about over lunch was our philosophy about families and money. I felt that debt was a burden, despite the various tax breaks for mortgages and loans. I said, “If a house costs half-a-million, why pay more than twice that for the privilege of buying it. Why not just do the mortgage, yes, but pay it off as fast as possible. All that interest that you didn’t pay because of what you did ends up in your own bank account or retirement fund or wherever you choose to spend it.”

Ellen agreed and talked about the practicality of paying off some large debt, like a house mortgage or car loan. I pointed at my fifteen-year-old car that was in good condition. I said, “Not new, but I own it outright and have since I bought it used. The money for interest payments that I saved by not buying a newer one helped pay for my college education.” We talked about student loans, too.

We had other lively discussions, too. In the middle of the afternoon, we went and played miniature golf and had ice cream. After that we walked the beach even though the weather was chilly and the water cold. We held hands, and I felt like Ellen was constantly looking at me with affection and joy. I certainly was looking at her that way.

I confessed that I was ‘having feelings’ about her. I was seriously understating what was going on in my head. I expected to eventually be rebuffed by Ellen since she was about sixteen years older than me. I was pleased that she let me sustain the fantasy of us being together.

After my confession, we stood at the edge of the surf, Ellen came into my arms and gave me some long and deep kisses in between telling me that she felt the same way. We changed over from holding hands to walking with our arms around each other so that we could be closer. I was sinking fast.

After we’d started to walk I had to address the pressure issue between us before going much further; I asked, “Does our age difference concern you?” I felt sure that it would and my fantasies would implode.

Ellen stopped and kissed me again. She said, “No, but let me explain because I know this will come up again and again in your thinking unless we put it away. I’ve watched my son and you develop since you were twelve. Age does not correlate with maturity, and you are a lot more mature on that basis than Jake. You’re my equal now, at least intellectually. You have life goals and timelines and think ahead, whereas all he thinks about are where his next beer or party is going to come from. You’ve moved on into adulthood, and he’s still living out his teenage years.

“I share almost all the same values that you do, plus I’m a little immature and inexperienced – witness me having a child when I in my mid-teens and then hiding away since then. That wasn’t a terribly smart thing to do although I love him with all my heart.

“My social life happens to revolve around my job at the club. I don’t date. I’ve kept it that way, at least until now. You’ve seen me at the club, but socially I’ve kept people, especially men, at a distance. There’s nothing at the club for me except lots of friends. You fit in so well with everybody there, too. I know we could have the same friends and lifestyle. Moreover, I’m ready to make a commitment again, at least with you. Age does not enter into the equation.”

I kissed her forehead, “So, you’re willing to be my girlfriend?”

Ellen hugged me, “Absolutely. Oh, yes, please.” She pulled away and looked at me to see whether I was sincere.

I think we both wanted to commit for life, but we both held back in the interest of realism. I had about a million more questions, but I needed to get my act together better to ask them. We went to dinner at a place called the Crab Shack. Ellen had never eaten there and loved the place because it was so informal, yet had a great menu, many entrees with freshly caught fish. We had grouper sandwiches.

I asked Ellen some pointed questions starting with, “Why would you date somebody about sixteen years younger than you are?”

Ellen took my hand in hers and said, “Because I like them – a lot – and want to spend time with them. Why do you date at all?”

I nodded and said, “Same reason. What are you doing next weekend?”

She laughed, “Going on a long date with you, I hope. Saturday at noon again, please. I have all weekend from then on. There’s nothing special going on at the club.”

We talked about what she’d like to do, and planned a couple of excursions. One of them involved looking for a place for me to live now that I was a sure thing to graduate and would have a good-paying job.

I took Ellen home after the Crab Shack asked us to leave because they wanted to close. We’d sat and talked for hours even though we finished dinner. We made out as we parked in her driveway, but I kept things prim and proper. I had a longer-term view of this relationship and didn’t want to fuck it up by trying something stupid like making some kind of move on her body.

I was back in classes the next morning, and even more motivated to do well than I had been before adding a ‘girlfriend’ to my life. That said, my head was filled with thoughts of Ellen, and every single one of them was romantic.

I sent some photos and crazy emojis to Ellen every day during the week, mostly to let her know that she was always in my thoughts. She always responded with the same. I realized that I didn’t have any pictures of her, and resolved to fix that over the weekend. Upon request, she did send me at least one nice formal shot of her sitting in her office at the club.

I was at Ellen’s door at noon on Saturday, as planned. Her welcome reminded me that she was my girlfriend and that nothing had changed in the days we’d been apart. I got kissed and hugged like she hadn’t seen her lover for a year. I liked that.

We had lunch at the Cantina, catching up on what our weeks had been like, and then we walked the beach. Our starting topic was about open, honest communications in a relationship. We agreed that if it wasn’t happening naturally, then some kind of routine process needed to be set up to foster opening up to each other. I suggested a weekly time to share feelings and emotions seemed like a good starter idea.

We then had a silence as we walked through the sand, before Ellen asked, “How much sex have you had? Are you quite experienced?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been with six girls, all in college. Two of them were sort of fuck buddies. We had sex when we went out, but we didn’t go out all that often unless we were horny. The last time I had sex was about six months ago. Other than that, I rely on my right hand and the Internet.” I blushed at my admission, but I’d given it in the interest of honesty.

“So, you admit that you watch porn?” she teased.

I laughed. “Ellen, you’d have a hard time finding someone my age that doesn’t watch porn – male or female.”

I turned the question back on her, “What about you?”

“Oh ... errr ... well, I had Jake when I was sixteen. Big mistake, kind of. I was married for four years, but Tommy was sleeping around and I wasn’t. I tried to be a good wife, but Tom was having none of it. Since our divorce I’ve been with three other men. I thought each of them had potential but rapidly discovered there was no real chemistry in any of those relationships. Two of them lasted over two years, and the last attempt I made ended five years ago.”

“I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you. Did you lower the bar?”

“No, if anything I raised it. I’ve seen some of the men at the club misbehaving, plus more than a few have politely propositioned me in some way. I get hit on almost every week. I guess they figure that a single, divorced woman would be an easy mark. I just shrug and figure that it’s part of the job.”

I chuckled, “You didn’t put enough of a description out there. How about a beautiful, hot, single, divorced woman with a sparkling personality, fabulous fashion sense, empathy, emotional maturity, a great mother, and an even greater girlfriend. Of course, you’re going to get hit on. Are you ever tempted?”

That earned me a passionate kiss. “You say the nicest things, and no, I am never tempted. For one, every man that comes on to me is a bore and almost all are married. I don’t want a one-night stand or a quickie behind the pro shop at night, and certainly not with a married man. I want a stable long-term relationship with somebody that I like and that I love. I also expect a relationship to last for years. You should know that I’m a one-man woman.” She looked at me to see my reaction.

We reached the jetty, and turned around to walk back the mile-plus that we’d come from my car.

“I’m in full agreement with you.”

Ellen stated, “For almost all of our kissing and making out, I’ve been the initiator. I’ve set the scene and led you into it. Here are some key questions I want you to answer. Why haven’t you initiated with me? Why haven’t you tried to feel me up – to paw at my breasts or more? I’ve all but pushed a naked breast into your body.”

I jerked around to look at her. “Ellen, I highly respect you. I feel something great building between us and ... well, I just don’t want to screw it up by being a dumb college kid that thinks the world and women owe him privileges. I’m not skilled in dealing with a lot of women, as I told you. I don’t know your signals that would want me to initiate or to take liberties with you in some way. Worse, I’m not sure I’d know your ‘getting worried about what’s happening’ or your ‘stop’ signals.”

“Thank you. I hadn’t considered most of those things. I thought you were still hung up on the age thing.”

“I saw it as an issue, but after we talked about it last week, it’s no longer at the forefront of my mind. I just think of it as another factor in our adventure in life together. You’ve made me feel older than I am.”

Ellen hugged me to her as we walked, “Then, here’s the way I would like for us to be from this point on. First, either of us can initiate making out. If you haven’t figured it out, I really like doing stuff with you – kissing and I hope more. Second, I am assuring you that you have permission to cross what you think are my boundaries regarding feeling my body – any part. I will tell you forthrightly if we discover some boundary that I don’t know about. Third, I assume you’ll be discreet and not talk about what we do.”

I teased, “Except with you, I assume.”

Ellen rolled her eyes. “I will enjoy talking about it with you. Doing that will turn me on. I want you to turn me on. This conversation is already making me wet, and that has nothing to do with the water splashing around our feet.”

I gently pulled Ellen to me and we stood still and I wrapped her in a hug and pulled her tightly against my body, pushing my groin against her. I swelled and guessed that she’d be able to feel me. After we kissed, I said, “Just so you know, I like those rules and that they apply in both directions.”