I'm His Rich Bitch Now, I Was Poor And Starving When I Met Him

The saying is from rags to riches. I was in a rag situation, divorced without any real means of supporting myself, working retail sales. A man was looking for a nice g*ft for his secretary and we got to talking. He told me he had a rent house and was looking for a tenant, three two set up. I told him I lived in a sketchy apartment but I could never afford to rent a house. He challenged me as to how much I was paying, I told him six fifty. Just the amount he was asking. Utilities? Yes, electricity, no gas or water or internet. So he says, if I could live with keeping up the yard, mowing and such, he would throw in the utilities. He was looking for someone willing to keep up with the place.

He furnished what I didn't have, and of course appliances, internet and cable included. He had some people he knew move me, and I moved from the sketchiest of sketchy apartment to his mother's house, deceased. Beautiful place, with all the trimmings. So well kept up it was scary.

He told me his mother always invited him to lunch on Thursdays so to make the deal complete he would come over on Thursdays (I would have to arrange my schedule). No touching, just conversation. I fixed easy lunches and he came and helped with the dishes, Thursdays are trash days so he takes down the trash and the recycling. And since he is there, he fixes anything that needs fixing. I had a hard time mowing, pushing that heavy mower and it was hot and sticky, so low and behold he has the teenager who comes and does the mowing, using his mower and tools in the garage.

When I offered to be nice to him he said nice was a dirty word in that context. Lunch on Thursday and look after his mother's house. I was bathing, the house had a very nice bath, and the phone rang. I took the call and he said he was coming over, something about a service technician to look at the air-conditioning. I get out of the tub in a hurry and I'm barely dressed when he shows up. The technician needs access to the attic, and compressor, so we sit in the kitchen with a cup of tea talking, me with a towel around my hair.

How about that offer he says, about being nice? He said I looked ravishing. He was objective, took his time getting me ready for him, all hands no kisses. I told him I couldn't do it unless he kissed me. When he kissed me he thrust in I thought he was going to kill me. I wasn't expecting it, and I went off in an orgasm, something I hadn't had for a very long time. Now settle down he told me, and he continued with his mission, until he came and was satisfied.

Thursday lunch and being nice to him. He wanted it this way, and that way, and upside down. I wasn't used to positions, to me there was only one, but to him it was bent over the kitchen table, or on my hands and knees for him. It was difficult getting used to it, and his damn kissing, Right when he kissed me he thrust into me, a one two punch that set me off uncontrollably. Thirty six years old before I had sex for real. I can't blame myself for waiting on Thursdays, when he comes to lunch and for me to be nice to him.

I married him after a while, I was thirty six and he was sixty. From a sketchy apartment to high living. We found this nice couple for the rental and I keep up with the 'mansion', five bedrooms and four bathrooms, and a half for the company. I have whatever money I need, he never asks what I spend it on. I drive a nice new car he bought me for marrying him. I'm a rich bitch now, one of his favorite positions is having sex with me while I'm on all fours facing the mirror. He wants 'tits' flopping around under me, while he strikes home until I'm unable to hold the position. He kisses me, damn kissing and fucking me at the same time sets me off and I lose it. I haven't worked from the day he put a ring on my finger.