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The cold sea breeze throws my hair on my face as I exit his apartment, feeling already deliciously sore down below. I wave a quick goodbye and don’t look back.
Later, I sent him a message asking, "How did you go in the morning?" because like a good mother, I am a caretaker and make sure everyone is always okay.
Nothing more to it.
He replies, "I was very tired."
"I could have kept going," I think to myself and smile.
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There and then, I could have been called a MILF; the term so overused these days but still taboo.
As a single mother to a teenager with two jobs, I hardly have the time to enjoy life. Gone are the days of being a housewife and gladly so.
The new life as a single woman, but always a mother first, is like a double-edged sword. I have also become a woman who has found herself and knows what she wants.
In my first MILF experience, we glanced at each other’s eyes at the party and went to have sex for hours.
I knew what I wanted. No games.
It was great, and I didn’t mind sitting on the pillow for a few days after. We met up again, and the same thing happened.