Mature Wife Novels & Stories

His round and chubby face were all smiles and standing next to him was a young woman with ash blond hair tied up into a ponytail. She must be his young wife. The bad part of my mind wondered how she fucked such an old man. She didn't look older than thirty. I'd have figured her for younger if it weren't for the conservative dress she wore which made her look much more mature than her actual age. “Ah, Son, welcome.Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. Sharon hasn't given me a breathing space to rest and rained fire and brimstone if I dead to postpone the product launching” he said jovially

I sighed and tried to ignore the urge to punch something and shoot someone in the head. Preferably the selfish asshole she had been calling her husband for two decades now. "Don't bother looking for him." Mamma closed her eyes and wiped off a tear that ran down her cheek. Her face looked puffy, her eye bags especially—obviously not just from oversleeping. "He ran off with his new whore." Whore? Shit. Of course. So he's got a new mistress. Wow. Unbelievable.

They didn't want her to think as a selfish girl anymore. She will not trouble them anymore like she used to behave. She will prove them that she can also be mature and be a good wife just like they deserve not that old immature girl behind whom they used to run for every small little thing. The brothers also sat on their respective chairs and started having their breakfast gazing at her for the whole time.

The chef nodded, and they started preparing breakfast for their favourite little boss. "Ahh! I feel neglected here." Jessica looked at her husband and smiled. "Don't be like that; there will be times when we miss this time of trouble. Trust me, when the kids grow up, we'll miss them crying and whining like this." Morgan held his wife, who was getting prettier and more mature by the day. Even his wife now looks more assertive than before. "Don't ever change. Continue to act maturely in front of everyone but not in front of me. I don't want your spoiltness to go away. I still want my spoilt wife!"

I replied indifferently, "If she's sick, she should see a doctor." My blunt response only fueled his anger. Without warning, he flipped my plate. The hot broth splashed across my lap, and I let out a sharp scream. William snarled, "Why are you walking around looking like a corpse every day? We've been tolerant enough. How much longer are you going to keep up this drama?" I gripped my knife and fork tightly, ready to lash out. However, my mother-in-law, Helen Murphy, stepped in before I could. "That's enough, leave her alone. After all, she's only like this because she lost her husband..."

Aldric sighed, pulling me to face him, “You don't need to apologize, love.” “She sure does. She was supposed to make dinner.” Aldric's mother yelled. “And she did. All I did was assist her.” Aldric said clearly annoyed, I placed my hands on his chest. He faced me and I shook my head so he wouldn't argue with his mother. “Elara, I'm very disappointed in you. Why are you doing everything wrong? I've been patient but you're not getting anything right.” “Mother, I will try my best….” She cuts me off, “Try your best? Try your best, are you kidding me? You've been married for three months and you still don't know the little things about marriage. You can't make proper dinner and you won't give me

She reached out and touched Vivian's arm with genuine affection, then looked between her and Adrian. "You know, I have said it before and I will keep saying it — I look at the two of you and I think, now there is a pair that makes sense. There is something right about it." She sighed, long and theatrical. "How I wish things had turned out the way they should have. How I wish the woman standing at my son's side tonight was someone like Vivian — a woman of real substance, a woman who built herself into something worth admiring instead of engineering her circumstances to suit her own agenda." Her eyes moved to me then, "Some women understand that a man's love and respect must be earned. That a

It felt like a place meant to impress, not live in. Lucas tossed his jacket onto a chair and finally turned to face her. “This marriage is an arrangement,” he said bluntly. “Nothing more.” Amara swallowed. “I understand.” “No, you don’t.” His gaze hardened. “So I’ll make it clear.” He walked toward her slowly, stopping just close enough to be intimidating. “You will live here. You will attend public events when necessary. You will behave as my wife in public and remain invisible in private.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of her gown. “And what about—”

Marius The coffee is too hot. I drink it anyway. It burns, but I find it almost pleasant. It's the only thing that makes me feel alive this morning. Seated at the kitchen table, I look at them without really seeing them. My mother is there, sovereign, draped in her silk robe like an empress in exile. Her face is perfectly made up, already. You'd think she slept in makeup. She hates being seen as weak. Inès, for her part, reigns on her chair like a queen of another kind: legs crossed, transparent negligee, cruel smile on her lips, and that way she has of licking her fingers while eating a strawberry, as if everything around her were sexual.