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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 64
A Persian Princess And A Persian Overlord, That's My Life
I am 64 and an attorney with a private practice in immigration law. I have over time had a law partner, but at this time I am alone, after my partner retired. My weakness from the start, we are talking back in the fourth grade with Stephanie, is for girls who are natural beauties, and are soft.
Over my formative years I tended to go from flower to flower, not taking the girl's emotions into account. It was my needs that came first. I was an alpha wolf preying on lambs. My first and only serious relationship was in college with a foreign student from Iran. Her family had left Iran after the debacle with the Shah and lived in Amsterdam, she was at Stanford doing a graduate program in Chemistry. Persian girls are among the most beautiful women you can ever know, and I fell hard for her. She was a hard pursuit, pushed her far beyond her boundaries, but I was right, she was a woman's woman and I fell madly in love, still am. She too.
It was at that time that her brother came to visit and he was not satisfied with anything other than enforcing his authority over me. I could smell the testosterone on him, an Alpha if there ever was one. It wasn't 'sex', it was the ensuring that the real Alpha was him, not me. Put me down, bit by bit until he had me where I couldn't move and he forced me to get pregnant. Forced may be a harsh word. That is how I ended up with a son at 22. A Persian boy. He, this man from Persia, did not like the idea that his sister was in love with me. It was a battle, he had to prove over and over that in that house he was the man and what he said was the law. It took a lot for me to bend to his law, but Persian men are like that. Nonetheless, pregnant or not, Ariana was my bride. I had to marry her brother so he could stay. A small legal matter. Keeping Ariana was a problem that was solved by finding a willing friend to marry her. NO SEX, he is gay. Not the same with me. It was sex all the time.
In time with all her papers in hand the marriage was quietly dissolved and he was on his way. Ariana was tied to me, she couldn't very well return to Amsterdam and pretend that she was available for marriage. It doesn't work that way. That her brother was the head of the house made it possible for her to live with us. Her brother, he couldn't live with one son, or two or three. The SOB kept pounding away until there was no fight left in me. He won, I admit it. But in my twenties and in love with Ariana anything was worth it, anything to be with her. Even a Persian husband with an iron fist.
With Ariana we raised his sons, he is now a bit too old to force his hand. I have to be pleasant, but he can't do it, his penis won't cooperate, he's 74. Not that at this age I'm complaining. But the wife in me is also aware that an Alpha wolf without his penis is only good for the petting zoo. So I have to pretend. He pretends, and I pretend. I can't believe I'm telling you.
Ariana and I have remained a couple. Her brother, my husband, resigned himself to our reality and as long as he was 'respected' he tolerated us under his roof. What could he do? really. His own sister, he couldn't easily throw her out. At least it was with his wife, and not someone he didn't know. No, he accepted our reality and we have been together for over forty years.
Over my formative years I tended to go from flower to flower, not taking the girl's emotions into account. It was my needs that came first. I was an alpha wolf preying on lambs. My first and only serious relationship was in college with a foreign student from Iran. Her family had left Iran after the debacle with the Shah and lived in Amsterdam, she was at Stanford doing a graduate program in Chemistry. Persian girls are among the most beautiful women you can ever know, and I fell hard for her. She was a hard pursuit, pushed her far beyond her boundaries, but I was right, she was a woman's woman and I fell madly in love, still am. She too.
It was at that time that her brother came to visit and he was not satisfied with anything other than enforcing his authority over me. I could smell the testosterone on him, an Alpha if there ever was one. It wasn't 'sex', it was the ensuring that the real Alpha was him, not me. Put me down, bit by bit until he had me where I couldn't move and he forced me to get pregnant. Forced may be a harsh word. That is how I ended up with a son at 22. A Persian boy. He, this man from Persia, did not like the idea that his sister was in love with me. It was a battle, he had to prove over and over that in that house he was the man and what he said was the law. It took a lot for me to bend to his law, but Persian men are like that. Nonetheless, pregnant or not, Ariana was my bride. I had to marry her brother so he could stay. A small legal matter. Keeping Ariana was a problem that was solved by finding a willing friend to marry her. NO SEX, he is gay. Not the same with me. It was sex all the time.
In time with all her papers in hand the marriage was quietly dissolved and he was on his way. Ariana was tied to me, she couldn't very well return to Amsterdam and pretend that she was available for marriage. It doesn't work that way. That her brother was the head of the house made it possible for her to live with us. Her brother, he couldn't live with one son, or two or three. The SOB kept pounding away until there was no fight left in me. He won, I admit it. But in my twenties and in love with Ariana anything was worth it, anything to be with her. Even a Persian husband with an iron fist.
With Ariana we raised his sons, he is now a bit too old to force his hand. I have to be pleasant, but he can't do it, his penis won't cooperate, he's 74. Not that at this age I'm complaining. But the wife in me is also aware that an Alpha wolf without his penis is only good for the petting zoo. So I have to pretend. He pretends, and I pretend. I can't believe I'm telling you.
Ariana and I have remained a couple. Her brother, my husband, resigned himself to our reality and as long as he was 'respected' he tolerated us under his roof. What could he do? really. His own sister, he couldn't easily throw her out. At least it was with his wife, and not someone he didn't know. No, he accepted our reality and we have been together for over forty years.
