He had taken a job as a draughtsman in a firm of architects in Mercersberg, making good money for a summer job. After a week or two he told me, “College is a waste of time. It took me a year to find that out, and one week on this job. This is the best preparation for what I want to do.” Age is just a number on the OnlyFans platform, and sometimes that number is 40, 50 or even older. The MILF category is alive and well on OnlyFans, and there are plenty of amazing mature ladies just waiting for your attention, and your subscriptions.

Well, this house is built as a home, not as a nursery school. I have more rooms than I need, and not enough for the kids. All I really need is an upstairs, and then I can turn the whole downstairs into a nursery school.”

No, I mean it. Your mother’s a fine figure of a woman, but you’re a lot prettier. Seems a funny thing for a young fellow like Les.” Maybe it’s a good thing I never got to be an architect, if this is the way you treat me when I’m working on an important assignment,” he said sulkily. It was so childish of him, so pompous and silly, that I laughed out loud. He stormed out of the house and I saw the car zoom past the window. I cried myself to sleep that night and vowed that I’d control my tongue. Les came home late. He kissed me softly on the forehead.

The story goes like many young love affairs do. I married the boyfriend, we moved from small apartment to a feral cat ridden street just outside of Detroit. We got a dog and a KitchenAid mixer. We made love, we made children, and we made a huge, gigantic mess of our lives. He was silent a long moment, then sat down again. “That—that couldn’t be helped, Beth,” he sighed. “I just wasn’t—man enough, for her. It was better this way. Believe me.” I watched the two of them moving about the house, interrupting each other with ideas, and for the first time in months I saw Les’ eyes sparkle with excitement.Daddy looked at me soberly and I realized I’d known about Mom and her ways. But I deliberately ignored the risks so that Les would have something to do. It’ll take me five years to get my degree,” he told me. “Then there’s a sort of apprenticeship period before an architect is certified. And I thought it’d be fun to go to Europe, and study. I can probably get a fellowship.’” Les hadn’t changed much. The hair was a bit longer, and that was all. Outside of that. he was still the Les I’d known last year; he was even wearing clothes that I recalled.