No Such Thing


Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Drunk/Drugged, Tear Jerker, Cheating, Gang Bang, Anal Sex, 2nd POV, .

Desc: Sex Story: The man I love told me why he doesn't believe in true love

Hi Folks, this is a weird one. And I know that some parts of it are improbable. The stranger thing about it is that those improabable parts are mostly true. It's been said that real life is often stranger than fiction and after writing this one I realize how true that is. You should also look for me to tie up a lose end from a previous story that you guys have been on my back about. I need to mention as always how glad I am to have the incredible Mikothe baby editing my stories and she did her usual excellent job on this one. And this week is extremely special. because two years ago this week, a depressed forty five year old divorced guy who writes stories on the internet met a beautiful twentyfive year old divorce woman at the Woodward dream cruise and blew her off. Luckily for him she stalked him. And one year ago at that same Woodward Dream Cruise they got married. They'll be there again this year to celebrate their one year anniversary. And for those of you who wonder about my stories or why I write the way I do. I still look at things from the perspective of that lonely, depressed, divorced guy. I got lucky, I found a younger, prettier woman who loves me even more and that's what I want for each and every one of you. There are lots or great wome out there, they come in every shape, color and form. You just have to get out there and find yours. For those of you in the midwest. See you at the cruise this weekend!

I don't like running. I hate running at any speed. I truly believe that as a thirty five year old woman, running should be relegated to the past with other things like mud pies and pajamas with feet in them.

And then there's me. I know that I'm pretty. Paul always describes me as beautiful. But I don't exactly have the body for running. I'm 5' 6" and thin but curvy. My boobs are kind of big and since I'm heading for forty, they're starting to hang more than sticking straight out from my chest the way they did five years ago. But Paul loves them so who cares. I still have a tiny waist but my butt is anything but tiny. Again, Paul can't seem to keep his hands off of it. I have a little bit of softness in my thighs now. I guess that's what brought on the interest in running. But I quickly got it out of my system.

As you can tell by the way I'm built that I'm not exactly one of those svelte athletic women. And although I'm not overweight, it's a struggle keeping all of my girl's parts contained and restrained. I think when I ran there was far more bounce than glide in my stride. And to tell you the truth, every step I took when I tried to run, it was taxing, tedious, and boring. I only wanted to run in the first place so I could spend more time with Paul.

Paul, on the other hand, is one of those people who were born to run. Even at forty two, he glides along effortlessly and gazelle-like. I've often wondered, if running is supposed to be so good for you, why do the people who run look so God damned miserable while they're doing it. My Paul, on the other hand, has the biggest smile on his face while he runs. I get the biggest smile on my face too, because I love being around him.

Paul eventually solved our problems though. He bought me a bike. He claimed he did it as an excuse to buy me some of that tight, sexy biker wear so he could stare at me when I wore it. I know that what he said was partially true, he does like looking at me and I love having him do it. But I think the biggest reason was because he likes to run fast and there was simply no way I could keep up with him. But on the bike, we're more than equal. A fast paced run for him is a comfortable pace for me on the bike. An easy run for him is a meandering conversational pace for me on the bike.

I try to spend as much time as I can with Paul. We've been together for almost two years now. The weird thing about it is that I can tell he loves me by the way he looks at me and by the things he says. And all I have to do is mention something and he buys it for me, even if I don't ask for it. Both of us have great jobs. He works as an engineer and I'm an X-ray tech. I spend far more time at Paul's house than I do at my apartment. My parents love him and so do all of my friends.

We do, however, have one huge flaw in our relationship. That flaw is that we don't have a relationship. I love him to death. We kiss and hug and hold hands and have mind blowing sex. My favorite thing in the world is waking up in his arms. But we are not married. We are not engaged. I am not even his girlfriend. Every time I bring it up, he changes the subject.

If I try to pin him down, he asks me, "Are you happy?"

"Very," I tell him.

"Then why mess things up?" he asks.

I'll bet most people would think that Paul is hiding something. Maybe he's got another girlfriend or a wife hidden somewhere. It's been driving me crazy, so I did what most women do. I know it was a terrible violation of his privacy, but I put a private detective on Paul. I had him followed for a month. Paul had no idea. And since the operative who did the following didn't know me, the report was interesting.

After a month of paying nearly a third of my salary, the background check reported that Paul had been married once and was divorced. I already knew that. I also learned that Paul was seeing an attractive brunette with a body like a brick shipyard. It was flattering hearing another man talk about me.

The thing that pissed me off the most though, was that the operative took video and photos. He was trying to get some sort of dirt on Paul, so he recorded and took pictures of everything he could see. One short video made me angry enough to scream. It was of Paul on one of the rare nights that I stayed at my apartment. We all talk to ourselves or think out loud occasionally, but Paul really pissed me off.

As he got back into his car, a beautiful Grabber Orange 2009 Mustang GT, Paul shouted out, "God I love that woman." I know I should be happy. I'm the only woman in his life. He's not cheating on me and he's not cheating on some other woman with me. He has no type of relationship with his ex. From the report I got, she's tried to contact him several times and he refuses contact.

I guess I should be glad to find out that I'm with a good guy. But if he loves me so much that he can scream it out in the street after he leaves me, why the hell can't he give me some kind of title to acknowledge it?

I have the video of him screaming how much he loves me to God. I would give absolutely anything to have him tell that to me, just once. Believe me, I understand being gun shy after a bad relationship. I know that Paul's first wife stupidly cheated on him and then tried to hose him in the divorce. I know that will make a man want to think twice about getting married again.

My first marriage was worse. I married a man that my mother and father loved. He was a guy that I'd grown up with. His family sat across the aisle from us in church for as long as I can remember. After we both graduated from college, we started dating and I always felt like something was wrong or something was missing. I wrote it off as just being nerves or jitters. He proposed to me and my mom was happier than I was. We had a huge church wedding and it was downhill from there. Over time, John became more controlling and more abusive.

I hid and put up with split lips, black eyes, name calling, you name it. There were a couple of times when we separated and I left him. We went through marriage counseling and even turned to the pastor of our church for help. I listened to everything from, "He's a good guy, he just needs to learn to control his temper," to, "Maybe he has a mental problem and needs some sort of mood altering medication." My personal favorite was, "Lisa, maybe it's you. Maybe you're doing something to trigger it."

My parents loved him. His parents loved him. Every one of our friends swore he was a great guy. Everyone loved him all the way until he put me on the hospital with injuries so severe that I'd never be able to have children. Small town justice swept that under the rug. It was an accident and my sterility was the result of an accident. He spent three days in jail, got three years on probation and was told to get counseling for domestic abuse.

I was in the hospital for three months and ended up thousands of dollars in debt. He was back on the streets of our small town months before I was. He was running around with other women before I could even get out of bed. So as bad as Paul's marriage and divorce were, I doubted that he could match mine.

Paul, on the other hand, was a dream-come true. We met while I was updating my knowledge of Anatomy and Physiology. I'd decided to finally take the test for my registry. I'd been working steadily and had never gotten around to taking the test. Being registered would mean a nice bump in salary and the ability to become the lead tech in a lot of the hospitals I worked in.

Paul, on the other hand, wanted to get into Biomedical engineering. He needed several classes and we happened to draw the same A&P class by random draw. We went from talking in class, to having coffee and chatting, to studying together, to fucking and that's how we got to where we are. I know that Paul has his issues. For one thing, he claims not to be jealous, but he is. And he acts like a child about it. I found out about it the hard way.

Paul went to my brother's wedding with me. At the wedding, I danced with a few guys. One of them got a little bit grabby on the dance floor and since it was my brother's wedding I didn't want to make a scene. The guy spent half of the song with his hands on my ass. Towards the end of the dance, he was actually grinding on me. I couldn't wait to get away from him.

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