and athletic. He was so romantic and spontaneous to the point where I would literally have to fight him off of me just to get a good night’s sleep in.
Now, almost thirty years later, he was getting pretty sloppy, but that was only one of the reasons I was looking for attention in other places. All he wanted to talk about was work. After grad school, we both received reputable positions in both our fields of study at UCLA. Soon both our careers began moving, but his was moving a bit faster than mine. At first, I was a little jealous, but I got over it because I knew David worked really hard for his position. Over the years, his priorities shifted heavily toward his career and less on me. Now, he was just so boring at times. I know I wasn’t a beauty pageant queen or anything anymore, but a sister still had it going on.
My Coke-bottle figure was long gone, but I wasn’t anywhere near a two-liter shape either. And if a sister ever got to the gallon-shaped size, I will pay someone to off a bitch and put me out of my misery. I was pleased with my dark chocolate skin and thick sister-girl hips. I stood only at five feet six and toted a healthy 165 pounds. It is said as a woman hits a certain age she hits her sexual peak. I was there now—shit, I was always there—but my husband just couldn’t keep up. It was like we switched positions and I was now the horny toad. The less he satisfied my urges, the more I looked for means of sexual relief. I had brought dildos and porn to try and curb my savage hunger, but it was to no avail. The dildos would burn out and the porn only made me more curious.
In fact, a particular woman-on-woman scene in a porn flick I was watching sent me over the edge. The more I watched it, the more I wanted to see what it was all about. On one particular Friday night, David was asleep in his office, something he does more and more as time went on, I decided that it was then or never. I had looked up lesbian/gay hangout spots on the Internet and one in particular caught my attention.
Liquid Nights was all the way across town and I knew I wouldn’t be spotted by anybody that knew me or what I did for a living. I went in just to be curious, but Ashley spotted me and proceeded to spit her game at me. She had a way with her words and the next thing I knew she had me in the backseat of my car with my ass in the air and my face pressed against my back door, moaning as she made me cum multiple times. The things she did with her tongue and the strength of my orgasms kept me coming back for more. I was now what people called a cougar. More and more I kept doing things irrationally, like sex in my office during breaks in between class and even in bathroom stalls in multiple locations on campus. I loved the thrill until I noticed that Ashley was demanding more and more of me. She would barely come to class, halfway participate when she did show up, and she would leave in the middle of class as if she felt “she had better things to do,” as she said. The more she made me cum, the more control she exerted over me. And I didn’t like to be controlled. Now she had a secret about me that only a few people knew about me, and that few didn‘t include my husband. It was something that could ruin my marriage and my career. I wish I knew she was going to be behaving like this, because I would have never gotten involved with her in the first place. I also wondered how she uncovered my secret. I made sure I paid close attention to keeping my past in the past. Now she was threatening me with it and now she had my back against the wall.
I sat in my chair across from my husband and smiled as I watched him devour two chicken breasts, a heap of rice and potatoes, all while slurping down two large cups of tea. The slurping of his tea and the loud burp that followed had brought me back from my trip down memory lane. Where is the husband that I married? Because the one sitting across from me must be an impostor! I’m
Learning to Kill: Stories