I Was Always Destined To Belong To A Real Man

My mother decided that she was really a lesbian when I was four and she left my father for a woman at work. She went to law school and became a lawyer for the down and out, working to sue anyone with money. Her partner became a partner in the firm she worked for and we lived in the better part of town. I wasn't raised to be a lesbian, but I was raised to be a lesbian. The only men I knew were girls inside.

I went to college at a private liberal arts college in the North East surrounded by lesbians and men who were girls inside. I got my degree in Art History and got an internship at a top five Fine Arts museum. I lived in a garage apartment in the gay quarter and the landlord got me one night and showed me what men can do with you when they set their mind to it. I won't say it was pleasant, it wasn't. I won't say it was wanted, it wasn't. Up to that night I had never had a cock in my face, much less had a cock in my vagina. All the men I knew up to then were girls inside. I tried to cover myself up but he tore the sheet away. I called him names but that didn't do any good. His cock got hard again and this time I submitted. What's the use in fighting, I laid back and let him do what he wanted. I wasn't going to give him that pleasure or resisting, but he took what he wanted anyway.

I submitted to him after that and when I was with him in a social situation I learned from the other women that just because you were in the conversation didn't mean you didn't attend to the man who brought you. I had to learn to cook, he liked watching me cook for him. He liked watching me do housework. Sometimes in a shirt without pants or panties. He liked me paying attention to his cock, slobbering on his cock while he watched television. Getting on his cock and riding it down until it was all in me. He liked kisses and liked having me run my breasts over his face and feeding him my nipples to suck.

I finished my internship and registered for my masters degree in town. I moved in with him and cooked and cleaned and submitted to him sexually and in every other way. I called myself the little Mrs. because the real Mrs. was still around. In one conversation she told me that there wasn't ever going to be a divorce. I was destined to be the concubine.

When my mother came to visit and she saw who I lived with and how I lived she told me she had raised me better. I told her she had raised me never to meet a man. I went to visit my father for his 50th birthday, he wasn't the ogre my mother made him out to be. He was a man, like the man I lived with, no nonsense, took what he wanted, and you can either learn to like it or keep your mouth shut. I liked him immediately, maybe there is something about blood. But I also resented my mother for not letting me grow up with him. But it didn't mater, I was with a man and he kept me in my place and I learned to love every minute.

I can't say that being a lesbian is good or bad, but being a lesbian just wasn't ever going to be me. I need a man in my life, a man who isn't afraid to use a switch if I get out of line. I'm a concubine, the little Mrs. The real Mrs. came along when she was young and I can't really blame her, I don't think I could walk away either.