Dear reader, this is a part incest, and loving wife story.
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What was I going to do? I could see myself losing this battle if I wasn't careful, a battle that had been building and going on for 3 months now.
He has no idea how close he was getting. I do manage to escape him. But if he knew how much my will was creaking at the seams. He would have me, I just know it.
The trouble is he is so good looking, virile, handsome in a mature way. Well over 6ft, 185lbs, and I'm sure there is more maturity there still yet. His hair is short wavy and chestnut. His body is to die for, tight and muscular all over, believe it or not.
He has girlfriends and women, who should know better drooling over him. And I know for certain some females have fought over him too. He is just one of those rare men, that no matter who he meets, just about all of them want to go further with him. One of his married female tutors at a night class he attends left in a cloud of confusion. And I heard he was to blame, because of some extra out of school activities, but I was never sure.
I am Justine Barker, I am 25 years old, I've been divorced two years, and have grown nicely accustomed to being my own boss, not having to ask, and consult anyone. If I make a mistake, which isn't very often, then it's my mistake. I don't have to plead my case, the problem is mine, and mine alone.
I am good looking, 5ft 7" tall, hair that rests on my shoulders, a slightly sloping forehead, and roman kind of nose, nice wide eyes, full lips, and I love my body. I don't flaunt it; I am a bit shy that way, I am not the sort to do that. But when I see some of the women around who do, I know for a fact I would put them to shame if I did!
I've had a couple of boyfriends, and had sex with them, but I like to feel if I do, it's because I want to be in charge of my destiny. The 2 men who I have had in my bed, wanted to see more of me, build a relationship, something I didn't want to, not with them anyway.
My ex husband wants to take up with me again. But as far as I am concerned, he is history. He was the one who started shagging his boss's wife. I found out, he thought I would just forgive him. And he actually even mentioned in a roundabout way, that he could continue. He was out of the house that weekend, and subsequently I divorced him.
Can you believe what he did? He cried foul, said I wasn't being fair. I had a good laugh at that one. Jake our son still loves him of course, and still sees him regularly. I would never try and come between them, he isn't a football, he is a person. But when his dad has mentioned to him, to help him get his feet under our table again, he has apologised, and said, 'mummy says you were naughty daddy, were you?' No answer to that is there?
Anyway back to my story, my problem is one that I don't think will ever go away. (It didn't) I'm almost sure of that. Sometimes I think it is a nice problem, it keeps me on my toes, It makes me realise that I look good, can look good, and make sure I do look good too!
I had been keeping him gently at bay, but finding it harder and harder to do so. A couple of nights ago I had dreamed about him. I dreamed that we were in bed, and he was fingering me. I wouldn't let him make love to me. But he was driving me wild with his middle finger. My orgasm woke me up, I was fingering myself, but in my head it was him doing it. I juiced all over my hand!
I knew that I couldn't get him to stop, It wasn't that he was crude or lewd, no nasty innuendoes. No, it was a soft gentle insinuation into my mind. He would get me sooner or later, nothing was more certain. But I never expected him to get me the way he did.
My best friend Martha was the catalyst; I have known her for years from work. She is a single mum, never married her sons dad. She is as sexy as hell, gorgeous, and has, in her words, taken many prisoners. She always tells me, 'I know my worth girl!' And she led me unknowingly to my downfall, in a most spectacular way.
I had told her about Mathew, how I couldn't always lay a finger of blame on him. I couldn't really even challenge him, we both knew what he was after, and we both knew he was chasing me. I knew he could, even now, hold his hands up, and say in that, oh so innocent way.
'Who? me?'
Martha had said to me. 'Justine if he was after me, he would get me in a heartbeat, I wouldn't even think to try and say no,' she laughed. 'He's a man among men Justine, I don't care who he is, he wants me? He can have me; you want to tell him that?' She fell over laughing!'
'Martha Linton, you are incorrigible, you're nothing but a slut!' I chortled, laughing with her.
'So Martha,' I said, to change the subject. 'Tell me all about this yoga business you have taken up, what does it do for you?' I asked.
'Do for me? Do for me? Can't you see the difference in me?' she said, hurt showing through her smile.
'Well,' I said, 'you seem to have lost a little weight? And you seem a bit more confident. And you have turned into a sex hungry slut!'
'No I haven't, well not yet anyway,' she said indignantly, 'but if he came after me the way he is apparently going after you, I would be the slut of the town, and that's a promise!' she giggled.
'Oh Martha, please don't, I can feel myself giving way sometimes when he's near me, but I shouldn't, I mustn't! I gaped.
'No maybe not,' she admitted.
'Anyway, about this yoga, I can sit in my room, and meditate, simply by getting myself into a sort of Lotus position, but I have to be careful, it's dodgy if you do it wrong.' She told me.
'What do you do?' I asked.
'Come with me and I'll show you okay?' And she led me to her bedroom.
'Get undressed and put this on,' she said, and threw me a leotard.
We undressed and put them on. And for the next hour I was put in all sorts of positions, I was aching all over by the time we had finished. But I felt like it could work, I was stretching muscles I had forgotten about!
For the next 3 or 4 weeks I practised, and I was honestly beginning to feel good. I went on line and found a site that showed other sitting, standing, and lying positions, I tried them all. But my favourite one was. Sat on the floor, intertwined my legs and arms, and leaning forward, I could stare at a spot on the carpet. And I would literally go 'out of it'
One day I was in that way for ¾ of an hour, I was amazed when I came 'to.' But I was stiff too. I was really enjoying myself; it was like an inner freedom. And I knew I was looking better and better, I was feeling a glow. The only trouble was it was making me feel horny too, very horny.
My yoga, or my version of it, was improving all the time, I was winding myself up into contortionist's tangles, it was great. Martha was flabbergasted when she saw some of the angles I was getting myself in. But it gave me a sensation, a satisfaction inside, that I was accomplishing something, all of my own.
Then what I had feared all this time, happened. He got me! And it was my own entire fault, I handed him my body on a plate. He didn't even have to seduce me, convince me, cajole me, blackmail me, force me, nothing, He just took what he wanted, and nothing I could say or do could ever prevent it. My downfall was all totally down to me.
I remember dancing with him at my wedding, he was a phenomenon, all over and around me, I had never ever met a man with such movement on a dance floor, such agility. And I had only met him 2 weeks before it.
I knew then he was a dangerous man. He hooked up with my chief bridesmaid, who was separated, but still married. He moved to our area so I began to see more of him. He would call in at my home, under some always viable pretext. But perfectly legitimately, especially after I gave birth to my son Jake.
It wasn't until I divorced my husband, that he became more amorous, shall I say? More attentive etc.
It put me on my guard, because he did attract me, there's no doubt about that. I think that that was evident. But he knew how to press my buttons, without actually pressing them, confusing or what?
So back to the day, it all went down.
I was doing my yoga, and sat on the carpet in my sitting room. It was around 12:00 mid day. I was doing my staring thing, the room went dark around me, I was 'going'. The next thing I knew I was rolling over, by the time I had gathered my senses, I was tipping onto my back.
