Cosexstories Online Sex Stories
Tomorrow would be New Year’s Day. The thought depressed me.
In June, my husband of 22 years Ashoke left me for a friend of our daughter half my age. He left me with two children, Lavanya, 20, and Bharat, 18. The six months since he departed had been almost impossibly hard as I struggled to re-enter the work force and keep my family together while suffering the pains of abandonment and loss.
I had always been a good wife, a loving and caring wife. I worked hard to keep my body in shape to please his eyes and his hands when they chose to wander over me. I strove to keep his house clean, his table larded with the foods he desired, to make his home a happy and peaceful place for him.
I never denied him, never claimed headache or tiredness. Never. Always, I eagerly and happily did anything he wanted. For all those years, I was the type of wife many men find only in their sexual fantasies. That is as it should be.
I, too, enjoyed those activities. My sex life with him had been rich and fully rewarding for me. My husband knew exactly how to please me, how to make me scream in pleasure. He called me his violin.
“I can play you like a master. I can make you sing, Ishani,” he would whisper in my ear as I groaned in joy.
