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What my Husband Doesn’t Know…

1289 words | 4 |4.15

We weren’t married at the time, but when I got pregnant, he popped the question, and I said yes!

He was my first, but after I gave him my virginity, I met another boy at a party. I was drunk underage, and he invited me back to one of the bedrooms, where we had sex.

I don’t remember his name, and I never saw him again, but when my daughter was born, I could see it in her eyes. Literally, she had the slightest flecks of green in her brown irises, and I remember her father’s eyes. Even through the drunken haze.

Her real father, on top of me. He looked me right in the eyes, and it was so intimate. The exact same emerald green, while my husband’s are blue. Mine are brown of course, but the green had to come from somewhere, and for the next 10 years, I had that nagging fear in the back of my mind.

How would he feel, knowing that I cheated on him? Lied to him, and made him raise another man’s child as his own? Would he love her any less? Would she feel bad, if she ever found out? I don’t know, but living the lie excited me, too. Knowing that I got away with it, and I could do it again if I wanted to.

I never cheated on him again. As many chances as I got, I felt too guilty to go through with it, but I’ve had plenty of offers. I was young, only 17 when I got pregnant, and barely 18 when I had her. Now, I’m pushing 30, and I have had 2 sons with him. I bounced back from every one, but only with hard work.

Diet, and exercise, but I always loved to run. Even when it became part of my routine, I just love to get out of the house. Rain or shine, it feels freeing, and somehow all my cares go away until I’m reminded of them. I have children to worry about, their grades, and saving up for their futures.

(Not to mention the recurring nightmare of my husband finding out, feeling betrayed, and leaving me for lying to him.)

This morning, it was just beginning to feel like fall. The leaves still on the trees, but starting to change. Adding beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds to the green canopy overhead. It’s a risk, taking the back trails, especially so early in the morning. When it was hot, during the summer I could push myself harder, and run longer without overheating, but now?

I suppose I’m just stuck in a routine, so after getting back. Seeing my family off to work, and school respectively, I took a bath, and dried off. Watched my shows, knocked out all my chores, and checked the weather again before the busses started driving by to drop the children off.

“Why not?” It was warm, but not too hot. So, I put on my tightest layers of lycra, and nothing on over them. “Huh, huh huh!” Setting off, and feeling my sweat glands tingle. It wicking away through my sports bra to cool me drying in the air rushing past. “Whew!” I stopped at the end of the treeline, and held onto a branch.

Checking the GPS on my smart watch, I’d sprinted up to 6.7mph! Setting a more sustainable pace, I could almost break a 4 minute mile in high school, but I never was what you would call a sprinter, and let’s be honest, that’s only a little above average. For an athlete, a sprinter, not an endurance runner, a Marathoner, a miler.

My usual route is only 20 minutes, even when I push myself, but I’m not tired, I’m hot and sweaty, but I stopped off at the store for a cold Gatorade, and thought about taking another lap. I don’t know why I’m reluctant to be home, this afternoon. I love my children, and honestly one of the joys of motherhood. Perhaps even several if you count being there to help them with their homework. Any troubles they may be having at school, like bullies, or teasing.

Emily is starting to show. Not just adolescence, but I started early in the chest department. Even now at. (Checking my watch) 16% body fat, it’s all in my chest. Flattened out by the reinforced lycra layer only makes them rounder, and less bouncy I suppose. I still get looks, not just from the pimplefaced teenager behind the counter at the store, but passing motorists.

I almost caused an accident when one turned to look over his shoulder, driving past. He slammed on the brakes, before rear-ending someone at the stop sign, and Marie leaned on the horn. Marie Campbell, leaving to pick up her kids from school, no doubt. She’s probably just jealous.

He’s given me no reason to cheat. I get plenty of sex at home, and he always makes sure to satisfy me. He does satisfy me so well, it’s not that I even want to cheat. Just knowing that I can I’ve still got it, I’m still young enough to turn heads, and not just the boys next door. On either side, they’re getting old enough to look, and yet still too immature to hide it. The naked lust all over their faces, they’re practically drooling, and panting like dogs for me.

Their fathers both have lusted after me for years, and there’s also some security in knowing that they can’t have me. Of course, if they could catch me. Cutting through the trees to the end of the street. Retracing my route home, for once taking another lap backwards to change things up. The 3rd time today, what’s got into you today?

“Huh, boys?” They were lined up in the side yard. “What are you doing out here?” My boys up on the neighbor’s shoulders, looking in the window.

“Uh, Mrs.”

“I know my name thank you, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my boys, looking in My bedroom window, trying to get a glimpse of Me changing?”

“No, mom.” My eldest son got set down, “Just calm down.”


The older boys ran off, but not before I saw suspicious bulges. My boys picking up their backpacks, and the neighbors running off to their own houses.

“Come on, we better talk inside.” That turned out not to be necessary, because I could hear them as soon as we opened the door.


“Oh, oh Emily!”

“Fuck me daddy, yeah!”

“Boys, go.” To their room? A friends house, where can they go to get away from this. Horrible nightmare, after they just watched their sister, having sex with their father in our bed?

“HOW COULD YOU!?” I grabbed the first thing I could throw, but the chord caught it, so the lamp just swung down to hit the front of the dresser. “You beast, you monster, she’s your daughter for Christ’s sake.”

“No, she’s not.” Emily just ran past me, holding her mouth, and bursting into tears. “Come on, she doesn’t even look like me. She takes after you, and whoever you’re fucking, instead of me.”

“But, she’s only ten!” They couldn’t even close the blinds?

“Mom, is it true?”

“Em?” I looked back, and forth, but at least she grabbed a robe to put on from the bathroom.

“Is it true, that he’s not really my father?”

“Uhn!” It’s even worse than I ever imagined. “I feel faint.” Exhausted, all the adrenaline ran out, and I made it to the bed before I crashed.

“Oh!” She whined, “It was so much hotter when I thought it was incest!”

I couldn’t take any more shock, so finally I fainted, but I’m sure that’s the last thing I heard.

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  • Reply Cappy ID:2pdvucf0v1

    A really good entertaining story. Until the end.
    What kind of hateful asshole tells his daughter, especially in front of her mother, that he is not her dad. He should have is ass kicked. And kicked again for fucking his daughter just to hurt his wife.
    And again for letting the neighbors and his sons watch. What a total asshole.

  • Reply Golden ID:1ec7xyznwlo3

    Goldenbiguy on telegram, so hot

  • Reply Joe mam ID:28arvgwrqj

    Nah he should’ve left when you cheated

    • 6924cm ID:1g69mwn2b0b

      I agree. If he did that out of spite, than he is really shity