So, I had sex with Carter the day after I met him. And it was fucking incredible. It was never my intention to have a sexual relationship with him at all. I had forgotten how great sex was, but when you’ve found someone you connect with on so many levels, the intensity, the passion, it’s off the charts. For the first few months of our arrangement, we had sex everywhere. We were like two teenagers having a forbidden romance all over the city.

When I’d gone back to work, he brought me lunch one day, and fucked me against the window in my office on his lunch break. Anyone could have seen us, and I didn’t care. What they would have seen was a forty-year-old woman getting pleasured by a thirty-year-old man who knew every which way to please her. Another time, we were out shopping together, and he bent me over in a dressing room, taking me from behind. He had a fascination with my ass, and it wasn’t until he convinced me to let him move in with me that we started to play even more. We were sexually adventurous, something I thought was a long-lost fantasy for me.

It turned out that he loved dominating me, and after being the boss all day, I loved being told what to do in the bedroom.

“Elise, can you come here, please?” he called out from the bedroom when I’d gotten home that evening.

“Just a minute!” I yelled back. We’d become a fairly typical couple, living together and doing almost everything together in just a few short months.

“I need you now!” he demanded.

It had been a long day, but I went straight to the bedroom to see what was going on. “What’s up?”

“It’s been twenty-four hours since I had my cock inside you. I need you now.” He grabbed me by the waist, pulling me to him.

After we’d kissed passionately like teenagers, as we always did, I teased him. “Twenty-four whole hours? What on earth will we do?” I ran my hand over his cock, which was pressing against his jeans. I loved his big beautiful dick.

“Don’t start something you don’t want to finish, baby.” He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my neck back, and sucking just below my ear. It drove me absolutely wild.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied while unzipping his jeans.

Many of our evenings started that way, even if we had dinner plans. We’d begun to get photographed together fairly regularly, and I’d started to introduce him as my boyfriend, which always felt juvenile, at events at the six-month mark. We really were, for all intents and purposes, a real couple. I didn’t think that would happen, even though Karen at Infidelity told me it would. There was always a tiny nagging in the back of my mind that the only reason he was with me was because he was paid to do so.

I never wanted him to move in; until he did, of course. From the very first time we shared my bed, he insisted that he should move in. I pushed back on it for months until finally I agreed, pretending that it was the convenient thing to do, but deep down, it was because I loved having him around. We talked about everything. He shared his work with me, I shared much of mine. His only request, well, his only formal request pertaining to our arrangement was that he keep his job. He enjoyed his work and he didn’t want to surrender his opportunities, and it never interfered with anything I wanted him to do with me anyway.

We were each independent in our own ways, and some nights before we went to bed, we’d both sit reading quietly, together. It was quite wonderful, and as the time went on, we grew closer. We’d text and send messages throughout the day. He’d plan dates and fun adventures for us to go on all over the city. When I was cleared to run again, he’d found a running club that did scavenger hunts in the city, and we were a killer team. In fact, I’m fairly certain the other teams hated us, because we won the races most of the time. I never would have thought to do something like that, but Carter, he was always finding new ways to make me smile. I’d never felt lighter, or more fulfilled in my life.

As the expiration of our contract loomed, I became nervous about the future. I didn’t want our year to end, and while we had the option to extend it, or to part ways, we hadn’t discussed it at all. Not once did we talk about the money that was transferred behind the scenes, what he was doing with it, or what was to become of us after the contract expired. Afraid that the answer would break my heart, I never brought it up until that fateful day.