20 Years Later I'm Now In His Shoes, With A Young Woman Living With Me

A bit of background, in my early twenties I moved to Las Vegas as a dancer at a club. I was sufficiently endowed but the club wanted more. I just couldn't put up the money for a boob job and I was going lose my job. I had a regular in those days, a man, an accountant who worked at one of the hotels. He came in every Wednesday, that was his night to come see me. I told him that night that I probably wouldn't be there the following Wednesday because I couldn't afford a boob job.

He said that he thought my tits were perfect and he liked how I smiled and maybe it was best for me. Why not quit before they fire me and come stay with him until I could get another job. I told him that I would but no sex, I didn't do guys.

He gave the guest room with an on suite bath. He worked till late at night so he got home after midnight. His nigh off was Wednesday so that's when he went by to see me. I won't call it a sugar baby sugar daddy thing, as no sex was involved. I did show him my tits, and let him grab my ass, but that was it.

One night he came home and he was pretty worked up. Something had gone wrong and there had to be an investigation. On the other side of wrong there was always an employee and they got fired, or worse depending on the amount. He told me, didn't ask, he told me to get ready he was going to blow off steam and he fucked me like you fuck a whore. No feelings, nothing, just outright fucking.

I couldn't afford to move so the status quo stayed. He paid the bills, I lived with him and he took care of all of my expenses, but he would not pay for a boob job. He wanted my tits as they were, Without a boob job, at that time, I didn't make the cut. It was big tit season.

I lived with him for twenty years. During those twenty years he only fucked me that one time. From time to time I would get together with a girl, but I never 'cheated' on him with a guy. He messed around with a waitress or some clerk, fuck 'em and leave 'em sort of thing. He died unexpectedly from a heart thing, just keeled over one day. He left me his furnished place, and his life insurance and some money, a car, some interesting objects he had collected. All in all, including the house, it was well over a two million.

I didn't dare tell anyone. That he died yes, but not what he had left me. All of a sudden I felt that if some girl knew about what I had she would try to take it from me. I realized that's the way he felt, he should have just married me, I was his wife (without sex) anyway. I chose who I went to bed with very carefully and dumped the next day. I met a girl, she was from Kansas City and she had no business in Las Vegas. She got taken and everything she had was stolen. so I offered to let her stay with me.

I made love to her one night, serious stuff. I told her that we could be together but there wasn't anything formal. I kept the details about the house and the money secret from her. It was mine, and I wasn't going to share it. She still lives with me, in a sort of sugar baby way I supported her, never charge her rent, she has use of my car, and she sleeps at the house. No guests allowed. I am more in need of her than he was of me so she sleeps with me most of the time. I had a prenup of sorts drawn up for her to sign, I've heard of girls who sue for spousal support and stuff like that based upon an informal living together arrangement.

I mean face it, I'm forty five and she's twenty one. I have to protect myself. She is more than welcome to live with me, but what's mine is mine. She can enjoy the dividends.