My age gap relationship with Sam, who was 22 years my senior, was very sexually charged. The relationship was also fraught with possessiveness and resentment—Sam would make sure I was satisfied in the bedroom, just so that I wouldn’t stray. The sex was so good, in fact, that it was also the reason I kept taking him back after an explosive argument.
One of the things we argued about a lot was his devotion to his pre-teen daughter. While there was no question that he needed to be a good dad for her, he put a lot of effort into keeping me and her apart. This obviously resulted in a lot of nights with me being left alone, when instead we could have all been together. She and I did eventually become friends, but this only came after several years of my pushing for a relationship.
One night while he was driving me home after dinner, we got into such a heated argument on the matter that I forced him to stop the car half a mile from my apartment. I slammed the car door shut, yelling, “Goodbye, Sam. I’m tired of trying. Let your daughter keep you warm at night from now on.” I walked the rest of the way home as he drove away.
After several days of not speaking, I was in bed half asleep when I heard my apartment door open—I knew it was him. He quietly undressed, got into bed next to me, and proceeded to give me just what he knew I loved. And that was it, fight resolved.
Another contentious issue was Sam’s overarching possessiveness over me—he was constantly worried about losing me to a younger man. It got to the point where I was afraid to let my eyes even wander in a public place, because according to him, I was just scoping out other men.
The restaurant we frequented had a new employee named Ted, an attractive man around my age. I was sitting at the bar waiting for Sam one night, and Ted, not yet knowing about my age gap relationship with Sam, started talking to me from behind the bar. The conversation started with pleasantries and eventually got a little more personal, like what movies I liked, and what I did on the weekends. I could tell that Ted was interested.
We must have looked quite engrossed in our conversation, because when Sam finally showed up, he came over and exclaimed loudly that it appeared as though I was having a good time, and that he wasn’t needed there. He then stormed out of the restaurant. I called him later that night, saying that he had acted like a child and that I couldn’t stand the jealousy any longer—I told him that I wanted out.
Again, for several days, we didn’t see or speak to each other. A few mornings later, as I was getting ready for work, he came through the door of my apartment. Instead of firmly sticking with my convictions and telling him to get out, I let him approach me, and we ended up making love with half our clothes still on. Then he dropped me off at work.
The extra 22 years Sam had on me had certainly honed his lovemaking skills. And he knew exactly how to use those fine-tuned skills to get me right where he wanted me.