So, after working as an escort for a fair few months, I returned home from university and moved back in with my parents. While I was away, they believed I had been working in a pub, and now I explained to them I had an agency job, doing short shifts at bars and pubs that needed it (this explained why I was going out to work at a couple of hours at a time). It was at this time that I met a woman called Jean (I’ve changed her name to protect her anonymity). She was married, had been for 21 years, and had two children, a girl of 13 and a boy of 10. She lived in a tiny cottage which was falling down around them, it must have been over 200 years old, a miners cottage, full of damp. They had no money, in fact the cottage was in such disrepair it could have done with being knocked down. It only had two bedrooms, so jean and her husband has cleared an area in the loft (just imagine your normal loft, boxes, Christmas tree etc) and managed to cram a double bed in that space. There was no carpet, just pieces of MDF nailed to the rafters, the walls were cement and brick as they had never been plastered, and the roof wasn’t insulated, in fact there were holes between the tiles that were so big you could see the sky and I was sure that if it rained you would be able to feel it on your face.
To access the loft, jeans husband has taken a chainsaw to the ceiling of their daughters room and cut a hole, before finding a metal loft ladder and nailing it permanently in position beat enough in the middle of the poor girls room, with no trap door, just a hole.
The downstairs was just as bad, the living room had no carpet, just a dusty floor which was half link and half concrete, the kitchen looked like something out of the 1950’s with an oven that didn’t work, and the bathroom was a small area in the corner of the kitchen, separated by MDF walls, with no windows, no carpet or limo, no shower, a horrendous damp and mould problem and a toilet which smelt like a sewer.
Add to this, not only were the windows not double glazed but some had holes in them, the only source if heating was a wood burning stove in the living too and the house was filled almost top to bottom with crap – rubbish, clothes, shoes, tools, coats – it was not a nice place to be.
So, as time went by, jean and I grew closer and closer. She was 17 years older than me, quite a bit shorter, plump, and having two children had taken its toll on her body. She wasn’t particularly attractive but for some reason I was drawn to her.
After a while, our late night chats became so regular that instead of going home, I would stay on her soda overnight. I don’t know when it started, or why, but jean would come down early in the morning, get into my bed, and cuddle with me. I would hold her as tight as I could and snuggle right in. Although I believe I was viewing her as the missing mother figure in my life and I appreciated the affection more than I realised, there was definately an undertone of something completely different.
Through my teens I had frequently questioned my sexuality, after finding myself attracted to different women. When I was 16, after getting drunk, I had an incident in a hot tub with a friend where we playing around before falling asleep on each other.
So, I believe now that it was inevitable my relationship with jean would develop in this way, especially when she admitted that she her and her husband had previously had a threesome with one of jeans friends.
So, late one night when we were having one of our normal cuddles, I moved my hand a little further than I normally did. You could feel the air noticeably thicken with sexual tension; jean asked me if I really wanted to do it, and I agreed, so I moved my hand between her legs.
After that first incident, our relationship quickly moved on. I thoroughly enjoyed experimenting with my newfound sexuality, we tried strap on’s, double-enders, the infamous ‘feeldoe’, it was all fresh, new and exciting. No-one knew our secret and I liked it.
Take care. X