Straight Female / 42
Alive Again
On my 40th birthday my husband told me he was leaving and moving in with his dental assistant, and no divorce. I would have to fight him, and he would fight back and get custody of my daughters, thanks to some early 20s behavior. He left, the credit cards cancelled, the bank accounts emptied, the mortgage on the house three months overdue and the banks were beginning foreclosure.
Across the street from me lived a 55 year old man, divorced, who told me to pack up my things and move in with him and this time get the wife thing right. On the first day we were there, me and my three girls 18, 15 and 12, he took me into the bedroom and told my daughters he did the fucking. For the following weeks panties were overrated, I didn't know when or where he was going to work me over. After a while it began to feel good, anticipation of the surprise kept me on my toes.
My 18 year old asked me why her father never treated me like that. Whether I liked it. Did I like him. I had to say yes, and let her know her father was no where near this man. What worried me was the rest, the housewife part. The days went on, the sex was a clear and present danger, he housewife job was full time, the getting in bed with him got easier, but the talks with the girls got harder.
Is this what a real husband is like? I didn't want to disappoint them. A man with hunger for you in his eyes was a once in a lifetime experience for me. I had to tell them, no, husbands are like their father, you don't want the sex and you don't want to be the housewife.
He paid for my divorce, and I kept my girls. I never asked them to call him Dad, but they took it upon themselves to do so. I don't get looks from them any more when he hauls me down the hall. It's just Mom getting her brains fucked out again.
Across the street from me lived a 55 year old man, divorced, who told me to pack up my things and move in with him and this time get the wife thing right. On the first day we were there, me and my three girls 18, 15 and 12, he took me into the bedroom and told my daughters he did the fucking. For the following weeks panties were overrated, I didn't know when or where he was going to work me over. After a while it began to feel good, anticipation of the surprise kept me on my toes.
My 18 year old asked me why her father never treated me like that. Whether I liked it. Did I like him. I had to say yes, and let her know her father was no where near this man. What worried me was the rest, the housewife part. The days went on, the sex was a clear and present danger, he housewife job was full time, the getting in bed with him got easier, but the talks with the girls got harder.
Is this what a real husband is like? I didn't want to disappoint them. A man with hunger for you in his eyes was a once in a lifetime experience for me. I had to tell them, no, husbands are like their father, you don't want the sex and you don't want to be the housewife.
He paid for my divorce, and I kept my girls. I never asked them to call him Dad, but they took it upon themselves to do so. I don't get looks from them any more when he hauls me down the hall. It's just Mom getting her brains fucked out again.
- That's Juicy! 43
- Remove It! 2
