My name is Sherry. I'm 57, my 2 kids are grown and educated, and my husband has been "doing his own thing", in his own world. He doesn't hate me ..... It's worse than that; he's indifferent to me. He and I still do it on Saturday nights, sometimes quite enthusiastically. But half the time he's not thinking of me--he's thinking of women he works with. Don't pity me--I've accepted it.
Am I a MILF? Two parts of me I think qualify. My straight black hair is still its natural color--just single strands of gray, which I pluck out one by one. And it's got nice body. I can tell guys look at it. And my trim body from head to toe has kept its shape, without me being anorexic or even particularly green. I drink regular Pepsi, not Diet and not Coke Zero. I eat my protein in meat form. I'll take rice over quinoa. And yet my body stays thin--108 lbs on my 5'5" frame.
Not so MILF-ish? My tits, never huge, are not so much sagging as just sorta retracting into my body, seemingly, as if I live in Alaska. My legs? I wish I looked better in panty hose and even shorts--I find I just look .... boring ..... down there. And my skin tone is just relentlessly pale .... I don't tan OR burn. I'm just .... white ..... all the time.
So, I play to my strengths. Show guys my hair and my thin-ness. Play with my hair, and let them touch it. Press my upperbody against them, and let them hug it.
It worked one day with a former co-worker, who moved away but still flies into town. His name is Phil. He's married. He and I always had a shy flirty thing going on (shy flirty is my favorite--it means he's thinking about me when he doesn't see me).
We never acted on it from 1993 to 2022. But when he stopped flying into town during the 2 years of pandemic travel restrictions, when he found it he'll be back in town in July 2022, I said to myself, "Fuck it. Life's too short."
I decided to finally have an affair with Phil and fuck him.
Even if it meant a catfight, psychological then physical, with his horrid bitch of a wife, Beth.
Beth and I had shaken hands at work once, in 2002, when she came into work with Phil's now grown infant. The handshake between us was chilly--she had busted him st home one night speaking about me a bit too glowingly. I could tell she was jealous of my hair--hers was boring and frizzy.
When Phil called me tonight and said he was in town and checked into his hotel, I slipped out of my house and drove there. We both swore to each other, "I've never done this before." Which was true.
He was already on the hotel bed, fully clothed except for his shoes and belt. I lay next to him, also fully clothed. But that didn't seem naught enough.
"Let me feel you on me," he said. I climbed on him, twisting our legs together. We tongue kissed, desperately yet lovingly. It felt wonderful.
But our twisting legs--I cpuld already tell it was inevitable that Beth and I would be twisting legs that way real soon.
In a catball catfight.
Good.
I wanted that almost as much as I wanted to fuck Phil.
Perhaps even a little bit more.
To be continued......
