A Daughter's Mother (Part 2)

A Daughter's Mother (Part 2)[ Dedicated to Julie! In hopes you enjoy this series. Thanks for the suggested theme! ]I met Duane at the coffee shop.I was so nervous as I walked in a saw him smiling over at me, but I was also so very excited. I confess I hadn't felt that excited in a long time, and it felt good to feel my juices flowing that again. My husband, Ronald, and I, had drifted apart (sexually) over the last decade, or so, and except for some furtive, clandestine masturbation on my part, late at night, after Ronald had fallen asleep and was snoring, he and I hadn't had sex in a very long time.As I sat down at the table across from Duane, I liked the way he was watching me. It was like he was undressing me in his mind, that made me wet between the legs---a very enjoyable sensation. One I had had with Ronald in years."Hey!" I said, and I think I blushed slightly as I settled in to the chair."Hey," Duane replied. "I'm glad we could meet," he added, smiling."Yeah," I answered. "Me, too!""You look SO much like Tiffany," Duane observed. "I can see where she get's her looks!"I blushed then. I couldn't help it. I hadn't been complimented for my looks in years. Certainly not by my husband, who I had apparently become somewhat invisible over the years, and I liked Duane's compliment very much."Thanks," I replied.We ordered some lattes, and then sat there sipping on the thick, creamy liquid and chatted about a variety of things; Tiffany; me; my marriage; even Ronald. It didn't seem to both Duane that I brought up my husband, and so I confided in him about our total lack of sexual contact over the years. I surprised myself by how much intimate details came pouring out of me, but it felt good to have kuşadası escort someone to tell it to! Duane just sat an quietly listen to everything I said. Then there came a pause."I probably sound pathetic. Don't I?" I said, looking up into his face, which was still faintly smiling; and his eyes searching my face. It felt naked in front of him, and I liked how that felt."Your not pathetic at all," he replied."Yeah, right," I said, swirling the dregs of my latte."No," he said. "Really. Your not pathetic. Your," and he paused as if searching for the right word, and then added: "lonely. Neglected. Overlooked. Taken for granted. Ignored."We made eye contact. His word choice was exactly right. I truly did feel lonely; neglected; overlooked; taken for granted; and definitely ignored by Ronald! Duane had hit the very center of the target; the focal point of my womanly frustrations as a sexual person! That had been the crux of my daughters earlier admonishment!My pussy was sopping wet by now. I could feel it between my thighs as I sat across from Duane as we'd been chatting. I wanted to be fucked. It was as simple, and as basic, and uncomplicated as that. I wanted to be wanted. I wanted not love, but lust. I wanted to be taken and fucked, and fucked like a whore; hard, without gentleness; I wanted to swept along on a wave of pure, unadulterated, human lust; and here in front of me was this considerably younger (black) man who, I could tell from the way he looked at me, was as eager to do that as I was.Lowering my voice so that only he could hear, I said, looking right into his eyes as I did: "Fuck me. Please?"Duane didn't blink an eye. Instead, he smiled, gümüşhane escort ever so faintly, and said: "Let's go somewhere." And that was that.I paid for a hotel room, and for the better part of the rest of the afternoon, Duane and I fucked each other like a couple of starved a****ls; and I loved every last moment of it!I didn't care that I'd broken my vow of marital fidelity to Ronald. In fact, Ronald didn't factor into my thinking at all during that whole afternoon! Nothing existed but me, and Duane, and that incredibly big black cock of his in my pussy. I'd never in my entire life known such a feeling as that massive cock of his made me feel. Ronald's was such tiny and pathetic little pink thing next to what Duane had to offer a woman.Duane seemed to never loose his erection, either. Unlike Ronald, who seemed only good for a few moments and then was flaccid, and limp as wet rag; and soon asleep. Duane was the very opposite! Not only was Duane a great fuck, but he seemed to greatly enjoy orally pleasing me as well; and I laid there, on my back, my legs spread far apart, as his lips and tongue, and even his fingers, devoted so much time and attention to my decades long neglected pussy. I was in Heaven!Later, as we were dressing to leave (I took a shower first), I suddenly remembered that I'd just fucked my daughter's boyfriend. But, Tiffany was fully aware that I was thinking about it; and she had never voiced an objection to it; and, if anything, she seemed to have approved of it; other wise she wouldn't have given me his phone number! Before we left the room, I kissed Duane, and as our lips eventually parted, I said: "I want to do this hatay escort again." Which meant I want to fuck him again; and he understood that, and smiled."That'd be great," he said, and kissed me as if to reassure me.Going home felt strange at first. Ronald was there. He glanced up at me as I came into the living room. He was watching a football game."Hey," he replied as he went back to watching the game."Hey," was my reply.I stood there a moment, looking at him. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I thought back to having just been with Duane---fucking ourselves into a sweaty lather, while Robert, without knowing it, had been obsessing about the game! My pussy still tingled slightly as I walked on back to our bedroom to change clothes."Hey, what's for dinner?" I heard Ronald saying over the sports announcers yakking.That was so typical of my husband. He wasn't thinking of me, but of his stomach. That was all I seemed good for to him, which was true---but that was fine, because now I had Duane to turn to for those other things in my life that Ronald no longer cared to even try and meet.I didn't answer him.He asked again, but I ignored it yet again. I liked the feeling that gave me. I felt...more independent, more myself, and less my husbands 'wifey.' As I changed clothes, I fingered my recently fucked pussy, and smelling my fingers I thought I could still detect, though faint, the aroma of Duane inside of me; blended together with my juices, and his sperm; and I liked that very much. It made me smile to think that Ronald didn't have a clue about me and Duane. Served him right. Yes, he was my husband in a technical, legal sense, but Duane was my lover---something Robert had abdicated a LONG, LONG time ago; but that was now over, and I was intensely happy about that; and I was also extremely proud of myself for doing something about that!I also had to thank Tiffany, as well, of course. What's the old saying? 'Like mother, like daughter?' Well, I had a better one: 'Like daughter, like mother!'The End (of part 2)