Thank you GA for your wisdom and guidance in developing this story.
*****
I've known Edward since our sophomore year in college. He's a sandy-haired, 6'2" hunk of a man with ice-blue eyes that could see into my soul and a smile that could brighten my heart. A year after we graduated, we were married. Why did we wait four years? Edward said he had to be sure we were life partners. He was only going to wed once and it had to be for life. He wasn't going through his family's drama. All the relationships in his family had ended badly or through a divorce. Why? Money!
And when I say money, I mean money. More than anyone could spend in a lifetime. Edward would never have to work for a living, although he did take over the family business after his father, William Jefferson Middleton (Will), retired.
I'm not saying that Edward's taking over for his father was the best for our relationship. Edward was now required to travel, which took him away from me. I could see how the job tired Edward and the stress that it put upon him. At least he had Mildred, his father's secretary. Mildred knew the business as well as Edward's father and helped Edward transition into his new job. But there was a drawback. Mildred was soon to retire and there wasn't a backup.
William Edward Middleton was brought up in relative isolation, in the big house on the hill with servants at his beck and call. When he was of age, he was sent to boarding schools. He finally rebelled and refused to go to an Ivy League university, attending a public state school instead. That was when a plain Jane girl from a middle-class family from Springfield sat beside him in a sociology class. After our second class, I found him waiting for me outside the door. He asked if he could buy me a Starbucks and we haven't been apart since.
I soon found that Edward was forsaking his male friends to be with me. We hiked, went to ball games, parties and dances. And then there was the laughter. I'd heard someone say that laughter is an expression of being happy. If this is the case, we were truly happy. We couldn't help but tease, joke and laugh with one another. We could talk about anything, and soon found we were each other's best friend.
No one had gotten in my pants quicker than Edward. Yes, I'd previously had sex, quite a bit, not only with males, and including some rather unconventional relationships. But it wasn't just sex with Edward: it was an experience to the point that I couldn't get enough of him nor he of me, in or out of bed. Not that I'm some kind of sex addict, but I like sex, and though Edward has a nearly insatiable libido, I've never had trouble keeping up with him. I'm sure it's partly because of my history.
I lost my virginity at age 15 on the last night of summer church camp. Jimmy Stevens and I had been doing some heavy petting all week. We made a pact to sneak out of our cabins and meet down by the lake at 2:00 am. At 1:45 I grabbed my blanket and quietly snuck out. Jimmy had brought a blanket also, so we put one on the ground and snuggled under the other as we undressed each other. We quickly moved from petting to outright groping. That was the first time I had actually felt a naked erect cock. I had to have it. There wasn't much foreplay before I climbed over him and impaled myself. God, it hurt. It might have been enjoyable if it hadn't hurt so much, and if Jimmy had lasted. I'm just glad he warned me so I was able to get out the way of his geyser of an orgasm.
I was lucky enough to have an opened minded mother. When I got home, I told her that I needed to be on birth control; she went with me to the doctor the next day. That set up a series of talks with my mother on sex, life and boys, mostly sex. In one of our talks, she wanted to know what had happened. I told her about Jimmy and me. I think she got off on knowing the details. That conversation developed into a ritual after my dates. She seemed to be super interested and wanted to know the details of my sexual exploits.
Jimmy was followed by several guys like him that couldn't last and didn't care if they left me hanging. In one of my talks with my mom, she told me what I had to do to hold on to guys and what they expected. I was totally disillusioned, thinking I had to submit to lousy sex to stay in a relationship. I would rather masturbate.
One weekend, I had a girlfriend over for a sleepover. Of course, we started talking about sex and worked ourselves into a frenzy. We started in separate beds but ended up in one. That is when I found out girls could pleasure one another. I think that was the first time I connected affection with sex, and I liked it. After that, I dated boys, but if I wanted affection I had to be with a girl.
And then there was Ricky Young. He was an olive-skinned, chiseled, sculpted football player who restored my faith in boys. When he asked me for a date, I could feel myself getting wet. Mom had warned me about the problem of being thought too easy, so we did a little petting and that was it until the third date. By then I was so horny I went down like a rock. I was embarrassed at how wet I was, but not for long. That date was full of firsts. It was the first time I'd had oral sex and let a guy cum in my mouth. It was the first time a boy went down on me. It was also the first time I had an earth-shattering orgasm, in fact, multiple orgasms, and it was the first time I let a boy cum in me. He took me home that night with me wanting more. I reflected back to the impassioned kisses, his tongue on my clit for my first orgasm, his cock exploding in my mouth and me watching as he gently pushed his cock into me, grinding and banging me to an eye-rolling, toe-curling, second orgasm. I remembered him pulling me to my knees and entering me from behind, pounding me until I felt his warm cum, which drove me to my third orgasm. Sitting there in my room, I could still feel his cum dripping from me as my fingers touched my clit. After that night, Ricky and I were naked at every opportunity. We were together the rest of the school year until he went to college. I can't say I loved Ricky, but I truly loved his cock.
The guys that came after Ricky was paled in comparison as well as in satisfaction. Most merely occupied my time. Then I met Edward. After he and I shared our first time together I knew that I had found my place.
I realized from the beginning that Edward's money drew gold-diggers. Women threw themselves at him, but as far as I knew, even though we hadn't talked about being exclusive, Edward resisted all of their advances.
As for me, I really didn't care about the money, I truly loved Edward. Yes, like everyone, I wanted a comfortable life, but I could do without the frills and drama that money brings. In fact, I'd mentioned to Edward that if we had children, I wanted them to be brought up in a neighborhood with playmates and schooled like other children, not in a mansion with tutors. I think that was another thing that drew Edward to me.
Will, Edward's father, was a five-time loser at marriage and spent a lot of the family's money paying off ex-wives. So, when Edward told him that we were getting married, his father insisted on a pre-nuptial agreement. Given Edward's aversion to cheating and divorce, he resisted, but his father won out. When Edward approached me about the prenup, I think he was surprised when I told him that I would sign it. Then I read it. It stated that if we divorced, I would get a million dollars for each year of the marriage, but next to nothing if I was unfaithful. But if Edward were caught cheating, I would receive a straight payout of five million in addition to the million per year. That was a problem. I told Edward that what was good for the gander was good for the goose. He needed to redraw the prenup to include a provision that if he cheated, our assets would be divided equally. That would be a great deterrent. That didn't go over well with dear ole dad, so we negotiated a $50 million payout in addition to the yearly allotment if Edward should ever stray. Not that I cared about the money, I just didn't want to be expendable. If Edward were to cheat, I wanted him to hurt.
Even the signed prenup didn't stop Will, the old horndog, from putting his hand between my thighs under the table at dinner one night. I'm sure that Edward was concerned about the excruciating look on his father's face. You know the look men get right after they are hit in the balls.
For the last five years, I've loved being Mrs. Julie Middleton. As far as I am concerned, Edward and I have the picture-perfect marriage. We live comfortably in a neighborhood, well, a gated community, but at least it isn't the big house on top of the hill. Edward travels a lot for his work. When he is home we are always together and very feely-touchy. We're the couple everyone tells to go get a room, but they smile as they say it. Nothing, I repeat nothing, has ever been wrong with our sex life. From the second date to today, when we have sex, he rocks my world. Edward has always made sure that I am well satisfied. When he comes home from a trip, the first thing he wants us to do is to go to bed; he tells me how much he missed me and how much he just wants to hold me. If I sway my butt, give him a little flash or pat his cock, he's hard in the blink of an eye and pulling me toward the nearest bed. Edward has a voracious sex drive, as do I. I have never refused him. Whether it is straight sex, blow jobs or anal, I am totally his and he can do as he wishes with me.
As I mentioned, Edward's job required that he travel to the various companies that comprise the family business. After one particular trip, Edward came straight home from the airport and dragged me into the bedroom. It was like he hadn't had any in months. We only got out of bed to eat. When we slept he spooned me. During sex, he whispered how much he loved me and that he couldn't stand being without me. While lying in bed after an extremely satisfying round of sex, Edward asked out of the blue, "Julie do you think it is time we start a family?"
After talking some more about starting a family, I went off birth control the next month. Two months later, I missed my period. The home pregnancy test said 'positive' and two weeks later the doctor confirmed it, I was pregnant. When I showed Edward the home pregnancy test, he went into orbit, laughing, crying and dancing, it was total elation. By the time the doctor confirmed it, Edward was painting the baby's room, buying baby furniture, and dragging me around to every baby store in town. He was with me holding my hand through the sickness, being fat and my pregnancy mask. It was late in the second trimester when I developed a problem. We were told we couldn't have penetrative sex until after the baby was born and then at least two to three months afterward depending on how I progressed. We'll just say I gave a lot of blow jobs. Edward seemed to accept the situation well and was at least as affectionate as ever. Besides, I give a hell of a blow job, if I say it myself.
About the time I became pregnant, Mildred, Edward's and his father's long-time secretary, retired. Edward hired a new secretary. Traci was exceptionally nice, well dressed, well-mannered and seemed extremely efficient. I was glad she seemed so competent: with all of the stress of heading a multi-company empire, Edward needed someone he could rely on. Traci is probably six years younger than we are, petite, blond, single, and somewhat of a looker. With Edward's demonstrated aversion to affairs, I had no concerns. I had seen him blow off prettier gold-diggers back in college.
The first little threads of doubt came up when Traci became far more a part of our daily conversations than Mildred had ever been. Nothing outrageous, just that Traci did this, or Traci did that, and it was always exactly the right thing. Edward had never talked about Mildred like that. Then I picked up his jacket one day when he was about to leave town, and two airline tickets fell out, one for him, one for Traci. I hadn't known she was traveling with him, though I guess it made sense. I called the hotel and I was able to get their room numbers, 3328 and 3330, adjoining rooms.
On the other hand, when Edward was home, he was 100% with me. He was as affectionate as ever. There was no room in his heart or his bed for anyone else and I knew it, even though all I could give him was blow jobs.
