What do you do when your older man’s friends want a shot with you, too? I was 24 and my older boyfriend, Sam, was 46. I had a good job at the large company we both worked for, and could afford to buy myself nice clothes and accessories. Looking good for Sam was always important to me—he enjoyed me looking my best, as long as I didn’t pay any attention to the admiring eyes of his friends.
When Sam first started introducing me to his friends, they were all very gracious, and seemed accepting of our May-December relationship. What I didn’t know, however, was that several of them were also forming certain opinions of me. They figured that if Sam was 22 years older than I was, I must be into all older men, or I was into sex and would probably be willing to give it up to another older man too. I realize that there is a certain stigma about younger women who are in relationships with older men—usually it’s that she is after his status, money, or prowess in the bedroom. And if that’s the case, why wouldn’t this younger woman be willing to hook up with another older man?
Sam and I had a favorite bar that we frequented. Most of his friends went there too, so I was around them a lot. I had always felt comfortable going there alone to meet Sam if he was going to be delayed, as all these “nice guys” would be there to have my back—until one of them crossed the line. Sam had a late afternoon meeting that was expected to go past 5 o’clock, so I went on ahead to the bar and sat with one of his friends, George, while I waited for him.
George bought me a drink, and we talked. During the course of our conversation, and another drink, he started moving closer and closer to me, until he was talking right in my ear. He also kept touching my hands and arms. Being quite young and naïve at the time, I didn’t have any idea about how to get him out of my space. I didn’t want to offend the man, especially because it was one of Sam’s friends. I knew that George was married, and he knew that I lived in the same town as him. He suggested that since Sam was going to be late, maybe he could help out by driving me home. He also suggested that perhaps I would be nice enough to offer him a nightcap before he went home.
It was at just about this time when Sam walked through the door. George spotted him first, over my shoulder, and could not move away from me fast enough. Everyone knew about Sam’s no-tolerance policy for hitting on his younger lady, so George was smart to move away as fast as he did.
George was not the only one of Sam’s buddies willing to “help out.” Another one of his friends, Bill, actually asked me once how often Sam and I had sex. He also inquired about whether or not I was satisfied in the bedroom. After that, I stopped going to our bar alone. And even when I was there with Sam, I stuck to his side like glue.