I had sex with my ex, after I got married.

We weren't together for a long time, and, heck, I am not even sure he saw us as "being together", but more of a hook up scheme.

I liked him a lot, but a lot. He had a gf at the time, but I was so drawn to him, that I used my cousin, who he knew, to drop him hints how I am interested in him. As soon as he broke up with her, he spared no time, and was all over me, inviting me to go out.

We had sex on the first date, and I guess, since I was young and naive, that I was being opened, modern, hip girl, but I guess he read that as if I am easy, and our "relationship" was nothing more than occasional dates with hook ups afterwards, until he hit on my cousin (the one I used as a hint spreader). She declined him, so I broke it off, realizing what I was for him, what probably any woman is to him.

Many years have passed since then, I never got that crazy "in love", or had such a big crush on anyone after him. I reasoned that I have just "grown up", matured in a way. So I got married, to a nice guy, and life kept going. My marriage was, and still is good, regarding many things, but our sex life was never anything special, and I knew that when marrying him. Some men, just, do not have a high libido, and that was obvious even when we were dating, but again, I have "grown", and realized, that sex isn't everything.

It isn't, but it matters. So, when I came to a conclusion that I am on my own, regarding this, I started playing with myself, doing naughty things, visiting places like this one, all in an effort not to give in, and do something stupid, just for sex.

I didn't think of him, when being playful with myself, but I did think of the kind of sex we had, passionate, raw, spontaneous. So, when I saw his name on the list of invites, to a work event I was hosting, coming in from out of town, I felt nervousness in my stomach.

Casually, like I didn't mean it, I went on a coffee with my cousin, and asked her if she knows anything about him. She blushed, and confessed, since so much time has passed, that after we broke up, she did, in the end, have an affair with him, but lost contact afterwards. She heard that he got married, and that is it.

I applauded myself, how I have, maturely decided back then, pushing away a fuck boy, adamant to present myself in the best way possible, so he will be jealous, when he sees me.

Only, it was the other way around. Twenty years later, he was still radiating charm, all around. When he saw me, across the room, he just nodded, and turned his head. I was fuming!!!

So I came to him, eager to impress, only to end up in his room, on my back.

The next morning, I felt like the stupidest woman that ever lived, and the worst feeling of all was, how great it felt that night. Thankful for him not cumming inside me, since, if he wanted, or even if he asked me, I would say yes, yes to everything.

Some time has passed since then, he never tried to reach out to me, again, my fears of ruining my marriage with this have passed, only thing that's left is a remorse, better yet, two lines of it.

I regret cheating on my husband, and the other is, that I am sad that, I will never have such great sex, again.

But, I keep saying to myself, sex isn't everything.

Skinny charming Lilly

A while ago, my wife left me for another man - our relationship wasn't the best and we both knew it was over. It was a depressing time and it took me a while to get over the divorce. Luckily no kids were involved (even after 15 years of marriage). I coasted through life, turned 50, and really wasn't looking for a serious relationship... until I met this beautiful 24-year-old French girl, who was an art student visiting the USA.
I was a regular to a small dive of a coffee shop, I'd go in there and kick back, read a book and drink some coffee. She was in there a lot too. Eventually she approached me and talked to me.
"You know there's nothing more attractive than a guy reading a book... My name is Reine." She said in broken English with a heavy French accent. (It turns out her name means Queen in French)
I must have blushed, I wasn't used to talking to super attractive women at all - in fact most of the time if I was lonely I'd just find some ugly slut to fuck, or try Tinder which usually resulted in ugly sluts lol.
We talked for a while, got to know each other and she told me she's always had a kink for older men.
We started dating, I told her "You know I'm 26 years older than you so if we're still together when you're 50 I'll be 76 or dead."
She laughed it off, "We'll worry about that if and when we get there. Okay?"
I fell hard for her, I was head over heels in love. She was sweet, charming, and paid attention to me. What more could a guy ask for?
After a few days of getting to know her, we fucked - and let me tell you I've never had any sex that compared to what I've experienced with her. There was energy involved, it was like both of our souls met on a higher level and nothing else mattered.
I warned her that I was getting older, and I got some Cialis to make sure I could stay nice and hard for her.
It was probably about the fifth time we were fucking and she looked into my eyes as I plunged into her and spoke some French, but then translated it into English:
"I don't want you to pull out of me when you cum, I want you inside of me... deep inside of me forever my love."
I paused and all kinds of things flooded into my mind, especially if she was on birth control - and then I leaned forward and kissed her as I began thrusting into her beautiful body. I came deep inside of her, and she held me tight as my cum sprayed into her tight pussy.
It turns out, she had a creampie fetish - a breeding fetish.
This went on for months, and she ended up moving in with me. I'd fuck her almost daily, unless she was on her period. One day she looked a bit concerned and seemed to shut down, and she wouldn't talk to me about what the problem was. I went to work, and when I came back there was a note on the table from her.
"I didn't want to tell you, but I am pregnant and my visa has expired and it needs to be renewed so I need to return to France, I already had a flight booked and I was afraid to tell you. I love you very much and I don't know what to do. You are the most perfect man I have ever met, and I hope one day to be called your wife... but for now, I will return to France and get the visa renewed. I hate leaving you like this, it's stupid of me I know. But if you knew I was pregnant and returning to France, you would have stopped me. I will text you when I land and we will make plans to be together my love.
Always yours,
Reine"
I had a panic attack. I texted her, called her, and nothing. Days passed and depression set in for me.
While I loved this woman with all of my heart, I knew nothing about her family, or where she lived in France. All of her clothing was gone, and she didn't have too many personal items...
Sometimes we would sext each other when I was at work, and that's where the picture came from. I just miss her - and I have even thought about going to France to look for her - but how the hell would I even find her? It's such a big country. I don't even know what city or town she's from.
It all came to a head and I was about to do something stupid and hurt myself (hey depression sucks - and being this in love with someone... well it's like having your guts ripped out)... but I finally heard from her yesterday:
"I'm coming back, but I want you to promise me that we can be married. My father and mother disowned me, they're heavily Catholic. I am sorry I left the way I did, I am sorry for hurting you the way I did, I was just in a bad place - being pregnant, and knowing I have to tell my parents. I will see you soon, I still have a key."
Of course, I texted her back like "WTF WHERE ARE YOU" - hell I don't even know why I'm doing this - maybe out of revenge... but maybe for advice - she's so fucking stunning looking, she's so talented too. I'm broken without her, but I do know that will eventually pass - yet it's so hard to deal with such a loss. Sorry for rambling. Yeah I'll take her back... I might delete this later.

I’m no prince charming but is it just me or does it seem like so many of these beautiful girls in their late teens and early twenties pick these dudes who were doused with the ugly stick.  Looks aren’t everything but really, what gives?  

How would you like to use her charms
Does she look like a pig?