I married a man who screwed me in lieu of the rent
Back in the early 90s I was a single mom struggling to get by in the city. I had a one bed-sit to share with my baby, and life was a struggle as you can imagine. My landlord was a guy in his late 30s, a bit of a belly but otherwise not bad looking, and he was often giving me the eye. He owned the building, and a few others in the area.
One day he just offered to let me live there rent free if I would have s** with him. I was a bit nauseated, but I began thinking about it. Money was short (I was on benefits) and there was so much more I could do for my baby. After about a couple of months of thinking about it, I said yes.
The first time, he took me pretty roughly. His c*** was thick, and yes I did get off on it, especially when he pushed me over the table and took me from behind. Soon he was coming by not just monthly, but 2 or 3 times a week.
I lived like this for 3 years.
Then I was able to get a proper job, put my baby in a creche and spend the day working. I quickly moved out (guessing that no notice was due when you weren't paying any money) and set up elsewhere like an honest girl. Another 6 years passed.
Then I suddenly met the guy again when he came into the bank I was working at at the time. I was embarrassed, but he was winking and smirking at me. The same day he pestered me for s**, and kept pestering me almost every day now he knew where I was. He got my phone number and texted me dirty messages. Finally, to keep him quiet, I had s** with him in my car one day.
The s** was good, and he wanted more. I was in a relationship at that time, but I kept meeting him secretly. When my boyfriend found out, he hit the roof and walked out. The day he walked out, my old landlord came to my house and we had s** on the bed I had till the day before shared with my boyfriend.
We ended up having an affair like this for another 4 years. He was generous and wealthy, and helped my child with many things. My baby grew used to him too, and soon he was a fixture at our house. I felt guilty, we were kind of like his secret second family.
Then his wife found out. You can imagine the drama and tears that followed. Ultimately they divorced. Only a little while after that, he asked me to marry him. I was a bit shocked, never having imagined that something that started off shamefully for me could take this route, but I said yes. He adopted my child so we could share a surname.
We were married for just over 10 years when he died of pancreatitis, leaving me wealthy. Our relationship was never conventional, and most of all could not really be called a partnership of equals, but we had an understanding and treated each other honestly. I miss him, and I wonder what strange turn life has for me next.