The House Husband - Sex Stories

The House Husband

... only moved here recently, and it's nice to meet people. Are you from the area?" "The next town along. So, your car broken down?" "Husband has it." Graham raised his eyebrows. "Ah." he said. "Permanently. He kept it in the divorce and I haven't had my new one delivered yet." "I'm sorry to hear that. About the divorce, not the car. Well, the car as well I suppose!" They both chuckled. "Well I'm not sorry. My husband was a cunt. Always was, always will be." Hearing her use that kind of language with a cut glass English accent made Graham sit up and look at her. She must have noticed that he was taken aback, as she touched his knee and said, "Sorry, he just always brings out the worst in me. It's left here." He turned left into the drive of a smallholding. He could immediately see a few goats and chickens running around along the side of the property. Funny, she hadn't struck him as the type. "I love a****ls," she said, as if reading his mind. "Richard never did, my ex-husband that is. Hated everything. As soon as I was rid of him I got myself into the Good Life so to speak. I grew up on a farm." "How lovely. I'm a country boy now, but grew up in the city. Always yearned to be in the fresh air though, so we moved here. My wife still works in London though, she can't give up the rat race." "Ah. Fair enough. Would you like to come in? I can make some tea, and I've been baking. Won't say that they're astounding, but I do make a very creamy cupcake!" Graham paused before ...

... accepting. He wanted to go in with her, but strangely didn't trust himself. She was an extremely attractive woman. Early 30's he guessed, not overweight but not a size zero, and she had lovely big breasts, which he had noticed were straining at the white blouse she had on. Fuck it, he thought, it's only a cuppa, She probably needs the company. "Why not?" he replied. They both got out the car and walked up the picture perfect path to the front door. He felt like he was stepping into a tv drama, it was so perfectly laid out. A gorgeous old cottage, decorated in tasteful, heritage colours, with carefully chosen artwork on the walls. Everything had a handcrafted feel to it, and there was an amazing aroma drifting from the kitchen. He discerned that it was a combination of lemon, almond and cinnamon, mixed with the temptation of freshly made bread. This woman was some kind of 1950's angel. She ushered him into the large kitchen. The scent got stronger, and he saw why. The counter tops were filled with delicious treats, cupcakes, eccles cakes, scones, breads. He looked a little amazed. "It's for the church fete tomorrow," she explained, knowing it probably looked a little excessive. "Trying to fit in early. Tea or coffee?" "Coffee please." He sat down at the massive wooden table. It was solid wood, oak or pine, he wasn't sure. But either way it was a statement piece. She placed his coffee in front of him, and sat next to him, at the head of the table. She sipped the hot coffee delicately, ...