Mature Wife Novels & Stories

I knew that sometimes they didn’t even have time to rest. So it seemed like they only lived for themselves. And Mother had gone through an arranged marriage—a transactional relationship—yet she had remained in this house until now. Perhaps, in a way, she had come to see this place as part of herself. “I’m happy… because we have you and Miles. Thank you.” Maybe happiness is like a puzzle that finally becomes complete—after going through hardships, it eventually becomes truly fulfilling…

Their daughter, Lila, had grown up laughing, her eyes bright, her smile untouched by the darkness that once stalked their family. From the outside, the Reeds were untouchable. Successful. Respected. A power couple draped in triumph. But behind the photographs and the speeches, their marriage had changed. Their love had once been wild, desperate, like fire in a storm. Every kiss had been stolen, every touch had carried the risk of being their last. Now their love was softer, safer. And Bella, though she would never dare say it out loud, sometimes missed the spark. She missed the sharp edge of passion that once made her heart stop.

Someone he made sure was his stay at home wife and nanny for ten whole years. Anytime the thought crossed my mind, I realized that if I hadn’t overheard him that day, I would never have found out. He would never have told me until his Diane, wife, was ready to come home and settle. And judging by the type of woman she was, Diane would only return when she was finally retired. They were both willing to gamble on my life, and make me waste years tending to their needs, raising their child only to be discarded like trash whenever they were ready.

“Are the two of you having problems?” He looked toward the city skyline beyond his office windows. “Yes.” “Serious problems?” His answer came quietly. “Yes.” The silence that followed felt different this time. Heavier. More thoughtful. Finally his mother spoke. “I wondered when this day would come.” He straightened slightly. “You too?” A soft sigh came through the speaker. “Adrian, your wife spent years making life easier for everyone around her.” Her voice softened. “Eventually people become tired of being appreciated only when they stop.”

I lifted it and tapped the side. "Young lady?" the woman said, color blushing her cheeks. She was what my son would call a MILF. She was my age, a mature woman with a great figure and a gorgeous face. Her black hair fell to her shoulders, and the t-shirt she wore cupped her ample bosom. She had on a pair of yoga pants that hugged her sleek thighs, and I bet it made her ass look amazing. "Me?" "You," I said. "As young as my wife and just as pretty."

She burst into laughter. "Mom, I see you have this dark side to you too." "Can't I vent my emotions?" "Of course, you can. Go, Mom. You can terminate your marriage!" Gale responded. Mary nodded. "Yes, after being his wife for so many years, I can finally be myself again. I've done so much. I gave him my family name, and managed the home for him…" Men always follow their mistresses. "Mom, you have me." Mary touched her head. "With you and my grandchildren, I am already content. God has been kind to me."

She looked pained as she recalled the past. It all happened more than 50 years ago. Back then, Old Master Shaw was in his 30s, high-spirited and vigorous, his military career was also rising day by day. Old Master Shaw and his wife were childhood friends, playmates; the two families were equally wealthy, both coming from prestigious and well-respected families. Naturally they got married, and later, had a son together. Happy times did not last, Old Master Shaw did not have much time to spend at home with his wife and son. Soon, he returned to work.

He had an average job in banking, average build, and an average 5-inch cock that had never quite satisfied her. They'd been married three years, and the fantasy had started as pillow talk. "What if a real man fucked me while you watched?" she'd teased one night after he'd cum too quickly again. It escalated to new fantasies and wishes every njght, but one thing Cindy noticed was thst anytime she talked about her hotwife fantasy Mark's cums freehand like a broken facuet. Cindy kept her fantasy to herself, always masturbating to her lewd thoughts, but never acting on them. She wanted to remain a prim and proper wife to her husband…..keeping their bed undefiled.

“Ma’am?” “My mother . . . and grandmother drilled into me that a good wife has to be a lady in the living room, a chef in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom. I see you can be a lady in the living room. According to Jeffrey, you’re a great cook. How do you think you do in the bedroom?” If Patty was standing up, she would have staggered backwards. She was flabbergasted. This old woman did not just ask me that. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. I wasn’t always old. Ha, I’m not that old now. Now that we are empty nesters, Wayne and I act like a couple of teenagers in the house.”