Sometimes my parents ask what I do. I say consulting. If I were to say, “well ya know, you only live once and I intend to live it up by not working in an office, rather I have an older boyfriend who pays my way in life so long as I please him in everyway possible,” they might think I’m crazy. I think their crazy for working their whole lives for a measly paycheck.
So it’s best not to say anything and if bullied into responding what I simply say is, “consulting/PR/ assist” and change the subject pronto. I don’t like lying but it saves fighting. The next subject is why I never bring any boyfriends home and well, I think anyone can guess why I don’t. Perhaps I need to say I am indeed a lesbian and confirm what they might be thinking.
Hmmm at times I really do miss having a boyfriend my own age, their youth, their bodies, the recovery time. Too many girls I see with older men get caught cheating with younger men, not worth the risk I say. You get blackballed out of the courtesan club and then your no better then a common mistress. Besides, who will pay for my Champagne and lingerie habit? I did slip once.
I was on vaca with my first older man charting a yacht to god knows where, south of France/ Greece/ Caribbean/ whatever. The deck hands looked like they were plucked right out of high school. One I noticed right away, very tall, thin with ropy, toned arms and beautiful grey eyes. I smiled at him as he passed me sun bathing naked on deck. I had him in the supply room, every night for the rest of the trip. Sometimes twice if I came back to the boat early from whatever event we had that night. We never spoke, except the, ‘meet me in the supply closet in 10 minutes.’ I was never into big talkers anyways.
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