Straight Female / 37
I'm a 37 year old Caucasian single mom living in the Pacific Northwest, born and raised. I received my Bachelor's degree from a prestigious, small liberal arts college in the mid-west, but moved back home immediately after graduation (4 Michigan winters were enough for me, thankyouverymuch!) I have a respectable professional job but make just barely enough to support myself and my 8 year old son. I divorced his father about 3 and a half years ago after he chose drugs over his family, and have struggled financially ever since.
In all honesty, even though I am in my late 30's I am told by everyone that I could still pass for late 20's,and I admit I get looks from men pretty much everywhere I go. I'm 5'7 and 125 lbs with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes. I bounced back from pregnancy and still have a flat, defined stomach, long legs, and a great ass. Despite a life-long struggle with depression and anxiety, I am quick to smile and have a warm, bubbly, witty personality.
I was married to my ex for over 8 years and was 100% faithful to him, despite the fact that I was never sexually attracted to him and he had one of the smallest penises I have ever seen. The only way he ever gave me an occasional orgasm was through oral sex. In fact, before 3 years ago I had never experienced an orgasm from intercourse alone--I figured I was just one of those women who couldn't.
My confessionas it were, is that for the past three years I have been involved in a passionate affair with a married anesthesiologist who is 17 years older than me.
We first met about 10 months before my ex husband and I split. After 4 years as a stay at home mom, I took a job in the billing office of a local Anesthesiologist group made up of about 25 providers. One of my tasks was as basically the "gofer" for the docs, bringing their mail,procedure tickets, random paperwork that needed their signatures, etc. to one of the hospitals where they were on duty. As a result I enjoyed a friendly relationship with several of the docs--nothing inappropriate though.
After working there for about 9 months my relationship with my ex was in a frightening state. He was virtually always high (snorting pain pills was by then his primary activity),had been fired from at least two excellent jobs, and was rapidly spiraling out of control. He would pass out in mid sentence, would disappear for days,and exhausted all of our finances to support his habit. I was frightened to leave our son alone with him. Once when I confronted him about it he pushed me into our son's room, slammed me down on the bed and hit me in the face, all in view of our son,then locked himself in our room and fired a handgun--wanting me to think he may have killed himself.
I couldn't handle it anymore, and finally worked up the courage to tell him I wanted a divorce (after having my most recent paycheck deposited into a new, solo account.) To say he did not take it well was an understatement. He, his slime ball druggie friends, and his family basically waged war on me, trashing my porch, stealing my car that was in both our names, literally leaving me with no vehicle so I had to rent one just to get to work, stalking me, trying to frame me into appearing that I was doing illegal activity so he could hopefully get me arrested (that didn't work, luckily),doing. everything he could possibly think of for daring to leave him. It e was hell. I was beyond overwhelmed, and so incredibly lonely.
One day I was browsing Facebook and came across the profile of one of the doctors in our group that I was friendly with. He was 52,Jewish,(I've always had a thing for Jewish guys even though I had never been with one) and married for over 20 years to a woman he had met in medical school, also a doctor. They had three kids, the youngest of which was in his senior year of high school. He was pretty much universally liked: extremely funny and witty (he can tell a joke better than anyone I've ever met),a top-notch and respected physician,confident but not cocky, easygoing but not a pushover, and athletic (he is a fabulous tennis player and was active in Cross fit at the time.) I browsed his Facebook profile and, on a whim, sent him a friend request and a message. I suppose the message was slightly flirtatious, but not overtly. I just kept it light but also made brief mention of my nightmarish cicumstances with my ex.
A couple of days later he accepted my request and messaged me back,and we started a friendly, online rapport. I was inexplicably able to open up to him about my situation and feelings of loneliness and isolation, and he mentioned that he was happy to talk with me any time as an impartial sounding board, and friend.
After about a week of back and forth in which he also opened up about some of his own personal issues, including his marriage, we decided to meet at a local pub one afternoon that we both had free so that we could talk face to face about the serious issues we had touched on in our messages.
I remember that day so vividly. It had been one of the worst mornings of my life after one particularly vicious attack from my ex, and I had been crying. I arrived first, and a few minutes later daw him walk through the door. Our eyes met, and he smiled warmly at me. We got a somewhat secluded table upstairs. He got a margaritas (his fave) and got me a glass of wine. The conversation started out innocently enough, and we remarked on how strange it was that we had found it so easy to confide in one another about some very personal things after only really knowing each other (beyond the usual office pleasantries) for such a short time. As we continued talking and looking at each other across the tiny table between us you could feel the shift in tone;there was an electricity there that was impossible to ignore. It was overwhelming. I got up to use the restroom at one point and looked at my flushed face in the mirror. What was going to happen next??
I returned to the table, both of us a drink in and feeling it. I could feel his eyes on me, and I know he could feel the tension.
"What are you thinking?", I asked him.
"I'm thinking", he said, "that I'd like to do a tequila shot...off the small of your back."
My heart started pounding,and I could feel my pussy getting wet instantly.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm hmm."
My mind was racing. I was so nervous, so exhilarated. This was uncharted territory. It was make or break time. I have always been the "good girl."
Fuck it. I want this man, so badly.
"I can beat that," I said.
"Oh really?" he asked?
"Yup."
I went for it.
"I'm thinking about the fact that a couple of nights ago, lying in my bed, I masterbated imagining you forcing my head down on your cock." I revealed truthfully to him.
His mouth dropped open.
"Oh my God," he said.
It went from there. Over the course of the next hour and a half, we proceeded to have the most sexually explicit conversation I've ever had in my life. He talked about how he wanted to take me from behind, pulling my hair and spanking my ass. I was practically writhing with desire right there at the table. He told me he knew I was so wet at that moment that he could just slide right in (and it was true.) We talked about all the things we wanted to do to each other. I rubbed his hard cock over his jeans with my foot; he pulled me to him over the table and kissed me passionately, right there in the restaurant. I have never been so aroused in my life.
When we finally had to leave he walked me to my (rental) car parked on a side street. Wrapping me up in his arms and giving me the hottest kiss of my life, I reached my hand down inside his pants, inside his underwear, and wrapped my hand around his throbbing, rock hard cock. Right there on the sidewalk, still in daylight. He gasped,and moaned. I couldn't help myself.
We made plans for after work the following Monday, exchanging the hottest messages over the weekend. He booked us a room at a nice hotel,brought dinner and a bottle of wine, and we proceeded to fuck wildly in multiple positions for hours. His age certainly has not hindered him sexually in any way; sex with him is by far the best and hottest I have ever had with anyone.
That was over three years ago. It hasn't been an easy road. My ex husband broke into my apartment a couple of months after that one night while I was sleeping and stole my phone, reading my texts. When he discovered our relationship he began stalking my lover, slashed his tires, keyed his car, once actually hit him in the face after lurking outside my place. There have been times when we have tried valiantly to end our affair because of those instances for example. But we simply cannot stay away from each other.
We marvel at how our sexual and emotional connection has just grown stronger and stronger over the years. We have had the hottest sex: in hospital call rooms (probably over 100 times), in the car, outside, at my place, at his place. We've had phone sex while he was at work, speaking discreetly into the phone to me in a corner of the O.R. while in a long case; at my place, at his place. We have the hottest, most electric sexual connection I could ever imagine--each time. No one comes close to making me feel the way he does, and he says it's the same way for him.
He is genuinely torn at times because he genuinely cares for his wife and the history they share, but he is not in love with her and almost cares for her like a sister at this point. He daydreams to me abour wanting to be with me all the time,to take me away, and not have to hide our love, but I know he is afraid his kids would hate him forever if he left her.
He is not a bad person, nor am I. We have grown to share a closeness and love that most people go their whole lives without experiencing. He has been there for me in my lowest of times, helping to support me emotionally and financially. I can talk to him about anything, and vice versa.
The night before last he came over, and we had the most electrifying sex. I slowly sucked his cock the way he loves (I have been told by every man I've ever been with that I am a truly gifted cocksucker); he pulled me up and laid me down on the bed teasing my pussy with his tongue until I was writhing underneath him, begging for his cock inside me. Finally he pulled my legs up on his shoulders and slammed his thick, gorgeous cock deep inside me again and again, making me cry out in ecstasy and come again and again like he always does, before he came inside me,moaning loudly and collapsing next to me. He turned and took my face in his hands.
"I love you",he said as he looked deep into my eyes.
And I love him. There may be no easy answers, and it may not be a relationship that everyone can understand, but he means so much to me, and I would not trade it for anything in the world. I am his, and I love him.
In all honesty, even though I am in my late 30's I am told by everyone that I could still pass for late 20's,and I admit I get looks from men pretty much everywhere I go. I'm 5'7 and 125 lbs with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes. I bounced back from pregnancy and still have a flat, defined stomach, long legs, and a great ass. Despite a life-long struggle with depression and anxiety, I am quick to smile and have a warm, bubbly, witty personality.
I was married to my ex for over 8 years and was 100% faithful to him, despite the fact that I was never sexually attracted to him and he had one of the smallest penises I have ever seen. The only way he ever gave me an occasional orgasm was through oral sex. In fact, before 3 years ago I had never experienced an orgasm from intercourse alone--I figured I was just one of those women who couldn't.
My confessionas it were, is that for the past three years I have been involved in a passionate affair with a married anesthesiologist who is 17 years older than me.
We first met about 10 months before my ex husband and I split. After 4 years as a stay at home mom, I took a job in the billing office of a local Anesthesiologist group made up of about 25 providers. One of my tasks was as basically the "gofer" for the docs, bringing their mail,procedure tickets, random paperwork that needed their signatures, etc. to one of the hospitals where they were on duty. As a result I enjoyed a friendly relationship with several of the docs--nothing inappropriate though.
After working there for about 9 months my relationship with my ex was in a frightening state. He was virtually always high (snorting pain pills was by then his primary activity),had been fired from at least two excellent jobs, and was rapidly spiraling out of control. He would pass out in mid sentence, would disappear for days,and exhausted all of our finances to support his habit. I was frightened to leave our son alone with him. Once when I confronted him about it he pushed me into our son's room, slammed me down on the bed and hit me in the face, all in view of our son,then locked himself in our room and fired a handgun--wanting me to think he may have killed himself.
I couldn't handle it anymore, and finally worked up the courage to tell him I wanted a divorce (after having my most recent paycheck deposited into a new, solo account.) To say he did not take it well was an understatement. He, his slime ball druggie friends, and his family basically waged war on me, trashing my porch, stealing my car that was in both our names, literally leaving me with no vehicle so I had to rent one just to get to work, stalking me, trying to frame me into appearing that I was doing illegal activity so he could hopefully get me arrested (that didn't work, luckily),doing. everything he could possibly think of for daring to leave him. It e was hell. I was beyond overwhelmed, and so incredibly lonely.
One day I was browsing Facebook and came across the profile of one of the doctors in our group that I was friendly with. He was 52,Jewish,(I've always had a thing for Jewish guys even though I had never been with one) and married for over 20 years to a woman he had met in medical school, also a doctor. They had three kids, the youngest of which was in his senior year of high school. He was pretty much universally liked: extremely funny and witty (he can tell a joke better than anyone I've ever met),a top-notch and respected physician,confident but not cocky, easygoing but not a pushover, and athletic (he is a fabulous tennis player and was active in Cross fit at the time.) I browsed his Facebook profile and, on a whim, sent him a friend request and a message. I suppose the message was slightly flirtatious, but not overtly. I just kept it light but also made brief mention of my nightmarish cicumstances with my ex.
A couple of days later he accepted my request and messaged me back,and we started a friendly, online rapport. I was inexplicably able to open up to him about my situation and feelings of loneliness and isolation, and he mentioned that he was happy to talk with me any time as an impartial sounding board, and friend.
After about a week of back and forth in which he also opened up about some of his own personal issues, including his marriage, we decided to meet at a local pub one afternoon that we both had free so that we could talk face to face about the serious issues we had touched on in our messages.
I remember that day so vividly. It had been one of the worst mornings of my life after one particularly vicious attack from my ex, and I had been crying. I arrived first, and a few minutes later daw him walk through the door. Our eyes met, and he smiled warmly at me. We got a somewhat secluded table upstairs. He got a margaritas (his fave) and got me a glass of wine. The conversation started out innocently enough, and we remarked on how strange it was that we had found it so easy to confide in one another about some very personal things after only really knowing each other (beyond the usual office pleasantries) for such a short time. As we continued talking and looking at each other across the tiny table between us you could feel the shift in tone;there was an electricity there that was impossible to ignore. It was overwhelming. I got up to use the restroom at one point and looked at my flushed face in the mirror. What was going to happen next??
I returned to the table, both of us a drink in and feeling it. I could feel his eyes on me, and I know he could feel the tension.
"What are you thinking?", I asked him.
"I'm thinking", he said, "that I'd like to do a tequila shot...off the small of your back."
My heart started pounding,and I could feel my pussy getting wet instantly.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm hmm."
My mind was racing. I was so nervous, so exhilarated. This was uncharted territory. It was make or break time. I have always been the "good girl."
Fuck it. I want this man, so badly.
"I can beat that," I said.
"Oh really?" he asked?
"Yup."
I went for it.
"I'm thinking about the fact that a couple of nights ago, lying in my bed, I masterbated imagining you forcing my head down on your cock." I revealed truthfully to him.
His mouth dropped open.
"Oh my God," he said.
It went from there. Over the course of the next hour and a half, we proceeded to have the most sexually explicit conversation I've ever had in my life. He talked about how he wanted to take me from behind, pulling my hair and spanking my ass. I was practically writhing with desire right there at the table. He told me he knew I was so wet at that moment that he could just slide right in (and it was true.) We talked about all the things we wanted to do to each other. I rubbed his hard cock over his jeans with my foot; he pulled me to him over the table and kissed me passionately, right there in the restaurant. I have never been so aroused in my life.
When we finally had to leave he walked me to my (rental) car parked on a side street. Wrapping me up in his arms and giving me the hottest kiss of my life, I reached my hand down inside his pants, inside his underwear, and wrapped my hand around his throbbing, rock hard cock. Right there on the sidewalk, still in daylight. He gasped,and moaned. I couldn't help myself.
We made plans for after work the following Monday, exchanging the hottest messages over the weekend. He booked us a room at a nice hotel,brought dinner and a bottle of wine, and we proceeded to fuck wildly in multiple positions for hours. His age certainly has not hindered him sexually in any way; sex with him is by far the best and hottest I have ever had with anyone.
That was over three years ago. It hasn't been an easy road. My ex husband broke into my apartment a couple of months after that one night while I was sleeping and stole my phone, reading my texts. When he discovered our relationship he began stalking my lover, slashed his tires, keyed his car, once actually hit him in the face after lurking outside my place. There have been times when we have tried valiantly to end our affair because of those instances for example. But we simply cannot stay away from each other.
We marvel at how our sexual and emotional connection has just grown stronger and stronger over the years. We have had the hottest sex: in hospital call rooms (probably over 100 times), in the car, outside, at my place, at his place. We've had phone sex while he was at work, speaking discreetly into the phone to me in a corner of the O.R. while in a long case; at my place, at his place. We have the hottest, most electric sexual connection I could ever imagine--each time. No one comes close to making me feel the way he does, and he says it's the same way for him.
He is genuinely torn at times because he genuinely cares for his wife and the history they share, but he is not in love with her and almost cares for her like a sister at this point. He daydreams to me abour wanting to be with me all the time,to take me away, and not have to hide our love, but I know he is afraid his kids would hate him forever if he left her.
He is not a bad person, nor am I. We have grown to share a closeness and love that most people go their whole lives without experiencing. He has been there for me in my lowest of times, helping to support me emotionally and financially. I can talk to him about anything, and vice versa.
The night before last he came over, and we had the most electrifying sex. I slowly sucked his cock the way he loves (I have been told by every man I've ever been with that I am a truly gifted cocksucker); he pulled me up and laid me down on the bed teasing my pussy with his tongue until I was writhing underneath him, begging for his cock inside me. Finally he pulled my legs up on his shoulders and slammed his thick, gorgeous cock deep inside me again and again, making me cry out in ecstasy and come again and again like he always does, before he came inside me,moaning loudly and collapsing next to me. He turned and took my face in his hands.
"I love you",he said as he looked deep into my eyes.
And I love him. There may be no easy answers, and it may not be a relationship that everyone can understand, but he means so much to me, and I would not trade it for anything in the world. I am his, and I love him.
