I am a forty-three year old office manager, mother, divorced for three years and a man hater well until I met Jerome.
I was having a bad day at the office in the morning settling a dispute between two females that around two in the afternoon the migraine had the best of me.
I went home to hoping to fix it.
As I was headed to my bedroom I had to pass Heather's bedroom. Heather by the way is my only child. Seeing her door closed was nothing new. What was new was hearing, "Yes, yes Jerome, fuck me deep like you do mom. Ohoooo, that feels so wonderful. No wonder she gushes like she does. Your cock is awesome."
I froze, my head began to pound, my heart took off, and my female instincts took over as I charged into the room just to hear and see my daughter orgasm.
My mouth was opening in the process of saying, "You black son off a B....!"
I froze at what I saw. My daughter had her legs spread apart, knees up, masturbating with one hand while shoving a huge black dildo into her vagina with the other hand.
The shock of seeing that, the smell of a female in heat shoving the thick black toy all covered with her juices into her private place, the sounds of her moaning, no man in the room other than imaginary, caused me to faint.
When I recovered I was on the floor, several pillows under my feet, a cold wash cloth on my forehead, with my daughter's head at the bottom of my boobs crying.
I then closed my eyes and was thinking how to handle the situation. Surprisingly my migraine was gone.
I decided I'd better not be mad, that I'd better console her, remembering how she was conceived in the heat of the moment some twenty-two years earlier. As I was laying there I remembered desiring some of the black guys on campus to take me to bed so I could experience their supposedly superior women pleaser.
I patted the back of her head, covered in soft silky smooth blond hair which I had not felt in years.
"Heather I know you are feeling terrible and embarrassed. Relax it's no big deal. I just thought Jerome was in here cheating and two-timing me. What you were doing is normal for many of us. That is how I have pleased myself since your father and I divorced. At least four times a week I make myself feel good either in bed or the shower. I have toys too, but not the size of yours, wow, except for Jerome when he pleases me with his."
"Babe come up her and let me hold you. It's been years since I held you close."
Heather moved, sniffling, whipping the tears as see turned with the saddest look. I stretched out my arm so she could lay on it. When she did I turned into her and help brush the tears. She was in her short pink terry robe.
As I was using the finger tips to wipe the tears she said, "Mom I'm sorry..."
"Shhhh babe, I'm sorry for busting in on you. If I had not heard Jerome's name I might have stood in the hall and masturbated along with you. It must have been feeling really good."
"Oh mom I love you. Thanks for not killing me and understanding."
I began to trace Heather's lips with my finger tip. They looked so soft and succulent calling to be kissed.
Whoops getting ahead of myself. Rewind a few years back.
Mark, my ex was paying less and less attention on taking care of my needs. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt from office pressure, difficult sales, and shrinking commissions until I picked up his shirts from the laundry one morning on my way to work. Attached to the plastic protectors was an envelope. On the outside it read: Found in pocket maybe important.
I opened to find a regular piece of paper and on it were dates.
I then took a closer look and it began: Hi sweetie, Here are the dates of my layovers for the next month. If the flight is delayed I will call and leave you a message. If you do not have a message by 5PM you know my flight is on time. I will be wet and horny for that thing that turns me inside out. Until later Lover, Angie
I sat in the car shocked. When I recovered I laid my head back and thought. Now I know why he did not have any energy to take care of me. I called in to the office and told them I would be in after lunch.
Was he in town with her or out like he said on sales calls? Maybe that is why the commissions are down. He is not selling. He is making her feel good instead of me? What does her pussy have that makes it better than mine?
I decided to screw him. I hired a lawyer and a PI; by the next afternoon we had the dirt I was hoping to find. I gave the PI the car description and plate number. He followed Mark from work that day to the bitches hotel, got photo's of them in the cocktail lounge in lovey-dovey embraces, inside of an elevator as the doors closed, and the in the morning leaving the hotel for work. The photos were stamped time and date. The bitch looked to be early twenties, jeez our daughter's age.
That evening I took Heather to my mother's place and asked them to sit at the kitchen table. I showed them the pictures and told them I had filed for divorce.
I told Heather it would be her decision on how she would deal with her relationship with her father and that I would not interfere being she was old enough to make up her on mind.
Both of them sat around, hugged each other and cried. I heard mom tell Heather that some men let their thing between their legs do the thinking for them.
We stayed at grandmas that night, slept in the same bed and both of us cried. I told Heather that night, "I hate men. All they want is pussy."
By the afternoon then at his office he was given papers showing the dirt with instructions not to contact me and his personal things would be delivered to anywhere he desired by contacting his attorney or mine.
The following day my attorney called, said that a moving company would drop off boxes. I was to fill them with his personal things, and have everything in the garage, in boxes to be picked up the following week.
Heather and I packed his things over the weekend.
Two months later, Heather received a letter from her father saying he did a very stupid thing and understood if she did not want anything to do with him. He left her with contacts.
