My Wife Is Twice My Age Novels & Stories

He was only two minutes older than his sister, but those two minutes gave him the self-appointed title of big brother. Nora, my wife , stood there with that knowing smile, the same one she always wore when she watched me with our kids. She was four months pregnant again, another set of twins on the way. If someone had told me years ago that I would have four kids before I hit my mid-thirties, I would’ve laughed in their face. And yet, here I was. A father. A husband. A man completely and utterly in love with the woman beside me.

Then, it looked like a wrong thing to do but now it is perfect. I have him, my children, and my friends. They are my family. All these couldn't have been possible if I didn't marry ‘my sister's husband’

"Don't say that. I also think you could give us a hand." Wanda said, "What can I do for you?" Joel replied, "If I remember correctly, you and your husband have just celebrated your golden wedding anniversary not long ago." "If you want to ask me how two people get along after marriage, then perhaps, at my age, I am indeed more experienced than you. Ask whatever you want. I'll tell you my thoughts." Wanda was in her 70s, but she was always in high spirits, so she did not look old. Based on her appearance, she seemed like she was closer to sixty years of age!

The story twenty Years ago: Thirty minutes before the plane was to land in Paris, France, William DuBois opened his eyes after a long nap, noticing his beautiful wife sitting next to him fidgeting. "Baby, did you get any rest at all?" "No, how can I? It’s my first time being away from my baby girl," his wife replied, feeling pathetic. "Honey, Dynasty is six years old, and besides, your mother is babysitting her. Doesn’t that give you comfort? Well, it gives me comfort. I think your mother did an excellent job raising you. I couldn’t ask for a better wife." Her husband says, looking at his wife admiringly.

A week ago, the news broke that I'd filed a lawsuit against my wife of more than 20 years, Hazel Cooper, the woman who had shared my bed and my life for over half my adulthood. From that moment on, I became the neighborhood's favorite villain. Everyone called me the heartless man who had climbed his way to success and abandoned his wife and child without remorse. In their eyes, Hazel was flawless. She'd married me when I was poor and struggling. She never complained, even when life was hard. She cared for my sickly mother until her final days. She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about.

At 5'7" and 128 lbs with dark brown she looks more like a thirty year old hottie than a forty-three year old mother of two. We have enjoyed a great sex life during our marriage. First, there was the passion of being newlyweds and the freedom that exists before the kids are born. Later, it settled into a period of fulfilling but uneventful sex as it seemed the kids always had something going on that left us exhausted at the end of the day. She has only been with two men in her life. Me, of course, and one other man in college that she had a brief fling with while we were fighting over something neither of us can remember now.

I suppose many would have called me a trophy wife. I had been a fashion model, tall, slender, with long blonde hair that turned heads. I met my husband Richard at one of the shows where I was working. He was a buyer for a major department store chain..considerably older, but handsome, charming, and successful. I was utterly smitten. We built a good life together. His promotions brought us a beautiful home and a very comfortable existence. I always knew the age gap..fifteen years..meant I would likely face widowhood one day. That day came.

"Seventy-nine years, actually. And they still defeat me." I fixed his tie. Adjusted his boutonniere. Looked at my husband. Seventy-nine years old. Gray hair. Distinguished lines around his eyes. Still the most handsome man I'd ever seen. "You look good," I said. "For an almost-octogenarian?" "For my husband of twenty-six years." "Twenty-six years. We're old, Bella." "We're experienced." "That's just a nice word for old." --- Luna's suite was controlled chaos.

"I'm carrying his child. Of course he's good to me." "Actually… we had a secret wedding two years ago. He said as soon as he resolves things with his ex-wife, he'll legally marry me. My parents were worried at first that I was getting married too young and would be taken advantage of, but luckily, my life now is both exciting and sweet." Two years ago. That was the year Kevin convinced me to quit my job to "focus on being a wife and mother" at home. I gripped the napkin on my lap so tightly my knuckles turned white. My nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain.

“Even if we have everything in the world in common, it would never work between us.” “Why not?” “It . . . I . . . it just wouldn’t.” “Look, I’m sure you’ve been hurt and disappointed in the past. I know you’ve been married twice.” “And divorced twice by the age of thirty-four, mind you. Plus, I’m not a spring chicken. A good-looking guy like you can get a young thing in her twenties – a woman who can and is willing to give you children. You should have a lady who isn’t past her prime concerning giving birth. I’ve noticed how good you are with kids.”