From Rachel's Husband, To Her Father's Wife
by Emma Kate
I sat at the very back of the church on the bridegroom's side and watched as Rachel was escorted down the aisle by her father, with David, beaming from ear to ear, greeting her when they reached the front. It was a wonderful wedding, and she looked beautiful in her long flowing silk gown and delicate lace veil. She was also wearing a very expensive pair of ivory silk and lace panties that I had lent her – the something borrowed. As the pair were pronounced man and wife I felt a pang of sadness come over me as I thought of all the might-have-beens. I also felt a pang of envy because there was nothing I wanted more in all the world than to be a bride. Tears dribbled down my cheeks.
The wedding over, David and Rachel came sailing down the aisle together grinning at their friends and family gathered for the event, many of whom I knew, but thankfully none of whom either noticed or recognized me, the woman in the pink brushed silk suit in the last pew. However, as Rachel's father, Lex, came down the aisle with David's mother on his arm, he glanced in my direction and I knew that he had seen me. That was when I knew I had to escape.
The congregation crowded toward the main door of the church, but I decided to avoid the reception and slip out of the side door by which Rachel and I used often to come in when we went together to this church as members: goodness that seemed so long ago. I finished dabbing my eyes for tears, slipped my hanky into my handbag, crept out and down the stairs to where my car was waiting. I was glad to be free of what had been a claustrophobic atmosphere and I knew that when I got home I would have a good long cry.
My heels clicked on the hard surface as I walked quickly toward my car, unnoticed by the wedding party and guests who were all gathered at the front of the building. I reached into my bag for my keys, and then pressed the little unlock button on the fob so that the vehicle winked at me in a friendly manner. I was just opening the door when I heard a voice some distance behind me, "Caroline, wait a minute. Caroline…"
I felt my heart drop into my stomach and turned to see Lex running toward me in all the sartorial splendor of his morning suit. I smiled gingerly and whispered softly, "Hello, Lex," as he reached the car, panting a little.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Home… It wouldn't be wise for me to hang around too long. This afternoon has made me upset enough already, and besides, I don't want to detract from Rachel and David's big day. Rachel doesn't need me to be there in the background like a bloody ghost from the days of yore."
He looked me up and down, dressed as I was in my pretty silk suit bought specially for this occasion. "Well, you hardly look like a bloody ghost, more like an elegant lady. Pink suits you, you know."
I smiled despite myself, "I know, and I am glad that I can now wear it to my heart's content."
"Come to the reception," he said softly, reaching out a hand.
I shook my head, "No, Lex, don't force me." I could feel tears trying to erupt and swallowed hard to prevent them from coming.
He grinned benignly. "OK, point taken." Then he turned round and headed back to the wedding party. I got in the car, kicked off my shoes, started the engine and headed for the exit only to find Lex standing in my way as I rounded a little wooded bend. I lowered the window and looked up at him looking down at me. My skirt had ridden up my thighs a little and it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he had taken them in. "Will you let me take you to lunch tomorrow?" he asked. "I won't be leaving until late tomorrow night and I would much appreciate your company over a mimosa and some eggs benedict."
I grinned, swallowed back the tears again, and said, "Lex, I would love it."
"I know where you live," he then replied, "Rachel drove me past your apartment a couple of days ago. Eleven o'clock?"
"Eleven would be fine," I answered, feeling my cheeks redden.
I managed to get home before allowing the tears to come, and threw myself on my stomach across my bed, grabbed a handful of Kleenex, and allowed the emotions to come bubbling out. All my friends joked how incapable I now was of controlling my tears, and they were right. The last time I had talked to Rachel I had cried twice and she had laughed that I would need to give her lessons because she had found that the best way to get around David was to turn on the waterworks!
I must have spent two hours getting myself ready for Lex the following morning. I wondered how many women in the world have ever found themselves in the same position as me, going out to lunch with my former father-in-law. Should I wear skirt or pants? I had seen the way his eyes had looked at my legs yesterday afternoon, did I want that to happen again? I admitted to myself as I stood there in cream-colored bra and panties that honestly, yes, I did, but concluded that on this occasion it might not be wise. However, he had complimented me on how good I looked in pink, so should I wear pink again?
I sat down on the bed and thought for a few minutes about what I wanted Lex to think of me and decided that I wanted him to see a feminine creature, but not someone who was playing up to him. I finally decided on a beautiful orange cropped jacket, a white top and white pants and delicate little white mules. As I admired the end product I decided that I looked pretty acceptable, feminine without being flirty, dressed up but looking casual. I guess I had decided that I wanted to look as if I had earned a PhD since we had last talked seriously.
Lex had always been a punctilious timekeeper, and bang on eleven the doorbell rang. I opened the door and there he was standing there in khaki pants, white shirt, and blue blazer, bearing a dozen roses which he thrust into my arms as he leaned over to kiss my cheek. "Pink became you yesterday," he oozed, "Today you look delicious in orange and white. And by the look of things, that isn't some cheap outfit."
I felt myself pouting then broke into a smile, "No, it wasn't, that's why I put it on especially for you – I know you like quality. You shouldn't have brought flowers, you know," I said, ushering him in.
As I put the roses in a vase he wandered around my little home. "Rachel told me that you are soaking yourself in your femininity these days, and I can see from that from your apartment as well as your clothes. This is a lovely home, Caroline," he said, sitting down on the sofa as I arranged the flowers on top of a low bookcase. "And it is inhabited by a lovely woman."
I sat down in the easy chair opposite him, crossed my legs, and said quietly, "The last time you and I were together alone you shouted at me and called me all sorts of dreadful things."
"That was nearly five years ago, and a lot has happened since then."
"It certainly has," I answered, suddenly feeling very self-conscious because I could see that he was staring at my crossed legs. "What are you thinking?" I asked after this momentary lapse in the conversation.
He smiled, cleared his throat and responded, "Just how extraordinarily womanly you are. I wouldn't have believed it was you in church if Rachel had not pointed you out to me as we came in. When I saw you sitting there at the back in that fabulous pink suit I was amazed."
"Why, what were you expecting?" he was making me curious as I asked that. He shrugged and seemed lost for words. "Let me answer that for you," I said, "You were looking for a man dressed as a woman."
He colored a little and nodded. "I suppose something like that. I had no idea you would clean up so well. Caroline, I want you to know that I think you are a very beautiful and elegant looking woman. I couldn't think of anything but you after I had given Rachel away."
"Thank you, kind sir," I grinned back at him, beginning to recover my composure. A few weeks earlier Rachel and I had had some coffee together and she had been full of compliments. She felt that looking like me I had now become the sort of girl that older men might be attracted to, now if I was not mistaken there was something going on with her very own father.
"What surprises me is how well my daughter has taken all that has happened," he continued.
"Rachel is darling," I came back, "My bestest friend in all the world."
"Is that how you think of her?" I nodded. "How is that possible after all you have been through together?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Once Rachel realized what was going on inside me I think she wanted to do her very best to make sure that I lived a happy and fulfilling life, and that she did as well."
"And are you?"
I shrugged again and smiled softly. "That's a hard one to answer. Let's put it this way, I am more at home in my skin now than I have ever been in my life. My parents are appalled but that's their problem." I paused. "I don't think you can ever understand what it was like having to pretend all the time. Most people when they get out of bed in the morning don't think about how unsuited they are to their gender, they are men or they are women, and they live with the consequences of that. When I woke up in the morning I would wonder why my prayers had not been answered and I had not become a woman overnight."
"Even when you were married?"
"Especially when I was married. Perhaps more so when I was married because living with someone as wonderful as Rachel, who was so completely and fabulously feminine, made me envy the lot of women even more than I might have done. When we kissed, I wished it was me on the receiving end. When we undressed each other, I wished that her body was mine. When we made love, I wished that she was the one with the penis, not me… Does any of that make any sense?"
"Some, but a lot of it is beyond me. I am a man and I am attracted to women, I can't think what it would be like to want to be a woman."
I sighed and said, "I don't think it is that I felt like a man and wanted to be a woman. The truth was that I knew already that I was female, just that I had the wrong body to go with my true identity."
He sat and thought for a moment, his eyes looking my body up and down. "Then why did you marry Rachel?" he finally asked.
I smiled grimly, "That is a question with which I have wrestled for a long time, especially with my counselor because what I have done hurt Rachel very much, and I grieve that from the depths of my being."
"Do you really?" he interjected.
I nodded vigorously and thought back to the night when it all came tumbling out. We had been married eight or nine months and had gone to bed that night and made love. She had then gone off to sleep and I had just lain there in something akin to shock. By making love to her that night I had realized that I was totally denying my true identity, and I also knew that I was no longer capable of living the lie. Her nightgown was on the floor, soft and beautiful, and I scooped it up and put it on. I then lay there in the dark feeling alienated from the person I really was, which in due course brought on the tears. Soon I was writhing in inner agony and sobbing uncontrollably – which was when Rachel woke up and it all came spilling out.
There is no easy way for a man to tell his wife that when he married her he made a big mistake, that he should instead have sought help to get beyond his persistent, nagging realization that the real person inside was 100% and uncompromisingly female. So, the story came tumbling out in a higgledy-piggledy manner, punctuated by sobs and much inner agony. It was hardly surprising that when it was all over she gathered up some things and moved onto the sofa.
The following morning she came into the bedroom naked and stood at the end of the bed. I was still wearing her nightgown. She asked me if I wanted what I saw, or if I wanted to be what I saw. I had to be honest and tell her that the deep-down-inside-me wanted to be her more than either she or I could grasp. She then burst into tears, sadly shook her head, then shouted abuse at me using words I didn't know were part of her vocabulary.
While I was out that day she moved all my stuff out of our bedroom into the guest room. When I got home she showed me what she had done, and showed me her wedding band and engagement ring sitting on the dresser in my new room. She told me that clearly it had not been an honest marriage and if I wasn't going to pretend to be a man any longer she wasn't going to pretend to be my wife. For the next couple of weeks we lived under the same roof, were polite, but did not talk very much. She was both mad and sad.
Once or twice she went out for dinner with other guys, and on one occasion I came home late from work and saw a feisty little car in the driveway I knew she had a boyfriend visiting. When I looked through a chink in the curtains I saw her legs wide open, her panties and hose on the floor, her skirt hitched up as one of these Lotharios groped her while she played with the shaft of his penis.
The following morning was a Saturday and we sat down and talked for a long, long time. The outcome of this was that we agreed that she and I would continue to live together, but that we would begin to work slowly toward a divorce. I would let her date, have guys sleep over if she wanted, and function generally as a single woman, while she would help me to attain my dream and longing. "You do want to be a woman?" she had asked just to make sure. "More than anything in the whole wide world," had been my reply. So with those words the trajectory of the rest of my life was set.
I looked across at Lex. Softly, and on the edge of tears I whispered, "I love Rachel, she is dear to me, and I know I hurt her terribly. For that I am profoundly, profoundly, profoundly sorry."
He smiled at me and was silent, then he got up, crossed the room to where I was sitting, sat down beside me, put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. Then I realized that the his dam had burst and tears were dribbling from his eyes as he told me how wonderful he thought I was. "I am glad you told me that because I didn't want to think that you hurt Rachel intentionally. But you still haven't answered my question why you married her."
I lay my head against his shoulder, took a deep breath and said, "Because I was desperately grasping for something. I thought that if I could live the sort of life that would be required of me as a man then I would adjust and come to enjoy the body I was born with. Rachel and I had gotten on well together, especially after she broke up with that football jock at college, and marriage was the end product."
"Did you realize you had made a mistake?"
"Yes," I came back, "Within about 48 hours. So watching Rachel get married yesterday was one of the great treats of my life. She has been able to undo some of the damage that I had done to her."
"Oh, honey, you didn't do her permanent damage," he croaked, blowing his nose. "Besides, she tells me exactly what you have told me that you are one of her closest friends. She even laughed about how much she enjoyed shopping with you."
I laughed at that comment. "Yes, we were buying lingerie several months ago and she suddenly shrieked out in the middle of the store as we were looking at bras that she must be just about the only ex-wife in the world who has smaller boobs than her former husband."
"How do you feel about her and David?"
"Wonderful," was my short answer, but my mind was spinning. Rachel had met David after a whole succession of men had slept with her and while we were still living together. She had fallen madly in love with him. I had been living as Caroline for three years at that point and within six weeks I would be heading for Montreal to have my final surgery. The excitement was mounting that finally I would be whole and complete.
One morning I had overslept, was late for work, and came rushing out of my room into the bathroom, not thinking about anything else. Rachel's bedroom door was open, and there she was on the bed naked and yielding her body for what was obviously the umpteenth time to this guy I had never met before. I watched for a moment remembering those occasions when I had mounted her, unidentifiable pangs went through me, there was even a twitch of activity from what remained of my manhood, before I hurried on to the bathroom.
This was David, and while I was in Montreal having my body's distortions finally corrected he moved into the apartment Rachel and I shared. I felt weak and sore, but triumphant when I got home. Never again would I have to contend with that organ which was in reality an unwanted growth between my legs, but things had clearly moved on in Rachel's life while I had been away.
Rachel never asked me to leave or anything, but as I lay in bed one night dilating my newly-formed vagina, I was treated to the soundtrack in the next door room of her and David being particularly athletic. I honestly wished his cock were penetrating me and not the stent I was using. At that moment I knew then that the time had come for me to find a place of my own. I had a new body, I had a new identity, I had finished my MBA and begun a new career, now the time had come for me to begin life without Rachel, to begin life as Caroline Susan Hollingsworth. I was thirty years old and could look forward to the rest of my life as the woman that I had always longed to be. Eight weeks later I had moved into this apartment where now, fifteen months later, I sat beside her father on my sofa.
Lex and I chattered away for a little while longer then he said, "Well, Caroline, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, how about lunch?"
I smiled, leaned over and kissed his cheek, then went into the bedroom to find my handbag. I quickly touched up my lipstick while freshening my perfume, then joined him as he waited for me beside the door. He opened the door, put his hand on my shoulder and guided me out, and in that touch I wondered if I felt something I had never felt before – or was I just being a silly woman living on her intuitions?
I had expected the buffet brunch at the Marriott, but instead I found myself sitting beside my former father-in-law in the swankiest restaurant drinking mimosas and, as the meal went on, getting more and more confidential. By the time we were drinking our coffee, he was sharing things with me that I never expected to hear.
"Mine was never a very happy marriage, you know," he finally confessed, "I don't know whether you ever picked up on that?"
I shook my head. Barbara Fielding, my former mother-in-law, had never been particularly close to me. Her daughter didn't understand her, and I definitely had real problems with her personality. It always seemed to me that she was more interested in horses than people. Lex always seemed to me to be a very precise man, fastidious about his clothes, exact when it came to life, successful in business, but Barbara was all over the place. Their house was a constant mess, and she seemed to prefer teeshirts and riding breeches to the pretty, dainty things that the then buried female me craved I had the body to wear.
"It was really quite a blessing to me when she died," I have to confess, "Although, of course, I do miss her," he quickly added.
"Do you really?" I asked, cocking my head on one side and absent-mindedly running my fingers through my hair.
He smiled, "I can't hide anything from you, can I?" I shook my head with a saucy little grin. "I missed her company a little for a while, and I missed having her around the house, but I have not really been sad that she has passed these last couple of years. Her dying was a sudden shock, but I am over it now…"
"And looking for a replacement," I broke in. "I bet you are not short of female company."
He told me no and then admitted that there had been a few women since Barbara had died. Then he looked at me and said, "OK, Caroline, while we are being so frank with one another, what about the men in your life? I am assuming you are into men."
I nodded. "You assume correctly… and I am not a virgin woman, either."
"This sounds interesting."
"Not really," I answered, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"Tell me more, I've told you my dirty little secret. Rachel doesn't know I have slept with other women."
I folded my arms around myself and took a breath, "I have only slept with one man, and I have only slept with him one night."
"Didn't like it?"
"Not sure," I said quizzically.
"Who was it?"
"Do you remember Nolan?"
"The ex-pastor now."
"Interesting. You went to bed with him?"
I nodded. "He got thrown out of his church about the time that I went to Montreal to have my body put right. His wife threw him out because she had someone else, and the board fired him. He landed up taking a job in insurance quite close to here. He got in touch and he and I saw something of each other while I was recovering from sexual reassignment. It was then that he offered?"
"I don't understand."
I smiled, "We were having a laugh together one evening and he suddenly he went all serious and asked me if I had been with a man sexually. I said no, and he said if I ever wanted anyone who would help me over that bridge without becoming emotionally entangled, then he was my man."
"About two months later I gave him a call and asked him for a date, hoping it would become a sleep-over. I was in my own apartment by then, of course, and felt ready to see what it was like to be on the distaff side of the bed equation."
I thought for a moment. "There is something incredibly satisfying about being enfolded in a man's arms, and of having his body protecting you. I loved the feel of his penis, how it tasted in my mouth, and then the way it thrust inside me. I was glad I was no longer a virgin, but I have to confess that at the moment I get more pleasure from my dildos. At least I can get an 'O' from them."
"How do you mean?"
I grinned and said, "When I was remade down there I was given these different-sized stents, artificial penises, because it was necessary for me to keep my new organs open. Several times a day I disappeared to somewhere comfortable, lubricated these things up, and slid them in and out. At first it was uncomfortable, then it became a chore, now it's a pleasure. I still do it, but these days… most days… I can have the most delicious climaxes – and a female climax is head and shoulders above anything I ever experienced in my old life."
He put his head back and roared with laughter, "I love it. Masturbation as medical treatment. Wonderful!"
I don't know why but at that point the dam broke and I burst into tears. Lex was at first surprised, then concerned that he had said something or done something to upset me. He put his arm around my shoulder as I ferreted in my bag looking for a tissue or something. I shook it off me after a few seconds, grabbed my purse and held it against my chest as I fled to the ladies room. There I dove into a stall, sat down, and wept my eyes out. The trouble was that I did not have the slightest idea why I was crying. Finally, I the weeping jag ended and I pee-ed, repaired my makeup and returned to the table where Lex was looking justifiably anxious.
"What did I do or say?" he asked as soon as I sat down.
I put my hand on his lower arm, smiled wanly, and answered, "I don't have the slightest idea." I looked at him and taking his hand said, "Lex, do you remember that afternoon when Rachel and I came to see you and Barbara to tell you what was happening in my life."
"Hard to forget it. There is no training for men whose sons-in-law come trotting in, sit down, and calmly tell them that they are in the process of ceasing to be masculine. Are you surprised I was upset?"
I shook my head, "Of course not, but after you and I had talked I ran to the car and sat there crying for ages. At the time you didn't understand it, but the truth is that what was happening was that the hormone cocktail I was taking was kicking in. As estrogen kicked in my emotions became more sensitive, more fragile and tender. That has never changed, and all my friends are used to the fact that 'Caroline's a weeper.' Seldom does a day go by without my tear ducts getting some exercise."
"How can you live with so much raw emotion?"
"No problem at all, most of the time I love it. I always used to feel so cooped up with my feelings when I was living in my old body, but as soon as I was well-hormoned, and especially when I was dressing and living as a woman fulltime, I appreciated the fact that I was now allowed to cry as many buckets of tears as I wanted."
He looked at me, squeezed my hand, and whispered, "That is so sweet and so feminine." Then without giving me any warning he leaned forward and kissed me squarely on the lips.
When he drew back it was my turn to whisper, "Did that kiss mean what I thought it did?"
He nodded, leaned forward and kissed me again. This time I reached behind his neck and held him there, closing my eyes, soaking in the sensation of his body close to mine, and his attractive musky male smell. My heart was racing, and I didn't want this moment ever to end. Finally I drew away, sat there quietly for a moment with my hands in my lap, then looked into his eyes, felt myself blushing, and murmured, "Oh, Lex."
The next two weeks were agony because I knew that I was falling in love with my ex-wife's father. We talked almost every evening on the phone, sometimes very arousing conversations; and I often found myself unable to sleep nights for want of him. I ran and re-ran through my mind that kiss at the table, the ride home in the car, Lex seeing me to the door, then our lips feeding upon each other for fifteen or twenty minutes while his hands massaged my buns, and the way in which his hands had held me and touched me.
Two Saturday mornings later I was cleaning the apartment when the doorbell rang. I was just wearing bra and panties, so slipped on my long baby blue satin kimono and went to see who it was. As I looked through the security lens in the door I could see a florist with a big bunch of red roses. I opened the door and brought them into the kitchen, finding a card from Lex, "To Caroline, from Lex, with love." Of course, when I saw it I had a little weep, then I picked up my phone and called him to say thank you. All I was able to do was to get his voicemail, so in my little girliest voice I told him how much I appreciated him.
A few minutes later the phone rang and it was Lex. "Did you see the gift that I sent with the flowers?"
"Well," he answered, sounding puzzled, "I sent you a gift too, why not go and look see if the florist left it by your front door?"
"OK, but that's very strange." I walked across to the door and opened it, to find myself face-to-face with Lex, grinning from ear to ear and talking to me on his cell phone. I let out a screech and literally threw myself into his arms.
"I'm your gift," he whispered into my ear as I dragged him into the apartment, with him pushing me to get in. The door closed behind us and we began devouring each other. It was as I pressed against him that I became aware of his hardness against my tummy and then sensed a desire on his part to take control.
I knew what he wanted, and after two weeks of thinking about it, I knew what I wanted, too. I began to relax and let him kiss me how he wanted, his tongue diving in between my lips, and his hands starting to explore my body. I was sexually alive as I had never been before. I loved how I felt with him so close to me, touching me, exploring me.
After time had stood still for a while I pulled away from him and turned round. He grabbed me around the waist, unsashed my kimono, and slid it from my shoulders. "Nice lingerie," he complimented.
"Girls like me have a thing about nice underwear," I answered, looking into his eyes, "But I'm not ready to take it off for you yet, Lex."
He smiled at me, kissed more forehead, and said, "Don't worry, sweetheart, I understand. Maybe I am rushing things too fast, but I have to confess that I find you absolutely fascinating."
I sat down on the sofa and looked up at him. "And I find you fascinating, Lex, but despite the fact that I am very attracted to you, it is hard for me to forget that you are the father of the woman to whom I was married. Does she know you are here?"
He shook his head. "They only got back from their honeymoon last night, but I decided this morning early that the 150 mile drive was worth it just for the chance of seeing you."
"Oh, that is so sweet," I said, smiling amiably. Then, the tears came gushing, and in a moment Lex was beside me, his arms around me and my face was pressed into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," I gasped, "You are just going to have to get used to the fact that crying a part of my daily life, when I put off any pretence at maleness I put on this element of femaleness in earnest." We sat like this until the tears had passed when I whispered in his ear, "But I do love being held."
Lex and I spent a glorious day together. I wore a floaty little cotton sundress I had just bought and we went to the museum and art gallery, then lunch by the river at a little restaurant, back to my apartment for cuddling, and then the evening at the symphony. So began a pattern that went on for several months, with Lex coming to see me on a Saturday or Sunday. We talked endlessly, kissed, cuddled, and enjoyed each other's company.
One Saturday night four months after this relationship had begun he walked me to my door after a delightful day. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, whispering as I did, "Whatever did I do to deserve a man like you?"
He laughed, "With most women I would reply nothing, but you are not most women, Caroline. What you did was to remove yourself from involvement in the gender to which I belong so that you could be the person you have always been, a gracious, beautiful, loving, caring, perfect woman."
Needless to say tears followed a profession like this and as he held me he said for the first time, and then over and over again, "Caroline, I am hopelessly in love with you."
"And I love you, Lex."
"Will you marry me?"
More tears followed and then, "I can't think anything that would give me more pleasure and delight than being Mrs. Alexander Fielding." We kissed some more and hugged while we allowed this to sink in then I pulled away from him, unlocked the apartment door, and taking him by the hand I led him into the bedroom. "Lex, stay the night," I invited as I began to undress, "I want you to make love to me."
Lex's penis is the finest specimen. The instant I saw it I knew I would never tire of it. We were sitting on the bed mutually undressing one another, and he had just made a meal of my boobs. When I slid my fingers inside his shorts I had found this magnificent organ, put the other hand inside his waistband and pulled the shorts off, then knelt on the floor before him playing with his cock and balls, kissing them, fondling them, licking the shaft with the tip of my tongue then taking it into my mouth. I had sucked several men since beginning to transition, but never had I enjoyed giving a man oral pleasure so much.
Suddenly, Lex groaned, his body tensed, and in several powerful squirts my mouth was filled with the salty, musky creaminess of his juices which then dribbled out of my mouth and down my chin. "Oh, Caroline, darling," he muttered and then relaxed back on the bed.
"Did you enjoy that?" I asked, grinning and wiping myself with a tissue.
"Caroline, I can honestly say that I have never had oral sex like that before…"
Being in bed with Lex was new and wonderful. What I had craved when I had been married to Rachel I now experienced. As Lex held me in his arms and his hairy naked body pressed against the softness of mine, I realized with all my being that I had been right to pursue the course I had. I loved getting to know that potent little creature that I had had in my mouth and which now pressed against my thighs as Lex recovered his sexual energy.
Then my legs were spread and he was on top of me and between them. "Oh, Lex," I murmured, "I so love you."
"And I love you," he whispered as the head of his penis hovered for a moment, pushed against the entrance of my womanhood, and then entered. He came into me, a hard deepness that words will never describe. I felt, for the first time in my entire life, whole and complete. A whole array of emotions tumbled over me, and all I could do was groan and weep and tell him how much I loved and wanted and needed him.
Then he came. I though I had emptied him when I had sucked him, but there was a lot more where that first load had come from. I loved the way that it increased the lubrication of my pussy and then dribbled out. "Oh, darling," I snuggled against him, "Never leave me."
"Why would I? I love you, and you are without doubt the most sexual woman I have ever been to bed with."
"It is my intention to keep you thinking that way for the rest of your life," I giggled as I ran my fingers through the hairs on his chest.
He grinned at me, "Well, I intend to live a very long life then."
"Please do, my man," I whispered, "Don't leave me a widow."
"I promise I won't," he said, his hand sliding over my tummy and his fingers starting to fondle me down there. There followed a lot of kissing, cuddling, fondling, being fondled, and then within an hour he was inside me again, but this time I was on top, riding him. I love the look of erotic concentration on his face.
That was all several years ago, and our sex life is as exciting now as it was then. I love being a woman more than I ever expected, and I love more than anything in the world being Lex's wife. I do a little teaching online, but I am content to be his mistress, his partner, his lover, his homemaker, and to be looked after by him.
We bought a house not too far from Rachel, David, and their two little children, so Rachel and I still see a lot of each other. It is rather unusual being your former wife's mother-in-law, but we have made the relationship work. This morning, for example, we spent several wonderful hours shopping together. Rachel keeps telling me that she has never seen Lex so happy… then she tells me that she has never seen me so happy either. It is only when she wants to tease me that she calls me "Mom," and to her children I am Grandma Caroline. Being a grandmother is the next best thing to having kids of my own.
Well, Lex is taking me out to dinner this evening, so I have to go and get ready – which usually means being naked for him when he gets home so that we can build up an appetite by having sex! I'm a very lucky girl.
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