All Golpo Are Fake And Dream Of Writer, Do Not Try It In Your Life

Uneventful life Desperate Housewife

My name is Shabana Khan and I’m forty-two years old. I’m married to Javed Khan, a fifty-year-old account executive for a large advertising agency in the city. We have two children…Sajeed, our eighteen-year old son and Aasifa, our sixteen-year old daughter. Aasifa is attending a college preparatory school upstate and comes home for the weekends when she is able. She has a car and it’s only an hour’s drive home and she does have her cell phone just in case. Sajeed is preparing to go off to college in the fall…on a full athletic scholarship. He’s a talented kid when it comes to sports…you name it…he excels at it. To earn extra money for college, Sajeed is working as a lifeguard down at the municipal pool during the summer. We live in a converted century old farmhouse on a five-acre piece of land in the country.
Uneventful life Desperate Housewife
Uneventful life Desperate Housewife
I work full time as an illustrator for pre-teen and children’s books and have my studio just off the kitchen and next to the laundry room. I make a good living and with the salary Javed brings home, we live a comfortable upscale life. But money isn’t my problem…the lack of romance and passion from my husband is. Javed just doesn’t seem sexually interested in me any more and on top of that, he’s become more cold and aloof towards me lately. It’s almost as if he’s shutting me out of his life. At first, our marriage started out like a fairy tale…full of romance and passion, travel and experiences. After a three week whirlwind courtship we got married, but everything seemed to change three years ago…when my husband turned forty-seven and I was thirty-nine. Now I live in the real world, that of a sexually neglected and unloved wife, but it wasn’t what I expected…I expected the happy ever after.

It’s not that I’m unattractive, because I’m not…I’m a very attractive woman. I’m a tall and lanky 5’8″, 36-26-36 with nice, round 36DD breasts and I tip my scale at 132 lbs…if that. I have long blonde hair and big blue eyes and any man worth his salt would love to have me in their bed. I’m just your typical soccer mom…my family and a sound home life comes first while my needs…well, they come a far second. As women, we are givers and the heart of the family unit and like every wife and mother, I knew this when I got married…that’s just the way it is.

I just don’t know why Javed is so cold to me because I didn’t do anything that would cause him to be that way. At first, I assumed he was going through a mid life crises and he would eventually snap out of it…but he didn’t, even though I made many intimate advances. We now sleep in separate beds…how’s that for spurning me sexually? Then I thought Javed was involved in a sordid love affair because of all the gorgeous young women he comes into contact with every day. You know the types…fashion models…female ad execs…creative flat chested gals and those horny artistic types…not to mention the many available and so willing college interns with their perky tits and slender legs. My husband has plenty of opportunities to have an affair because he is very handsome and down right charming…when he wants to be. I mean, if I were a gold digging bitch without any scruples, I would be after him too.

Then I thought, “Maybe Javed’s a latten gay?” There are many attractive gay men working for him. Now, I was grabbing at any theory that would explain his cooling off romantically and sexually. However, what was also confusing to me about his behavior was his jealous nature towards me. He would go out of his way to confront me at some party we were attending and accuse me of flirting with male guests…in front of everyone. My God, I couldn’t even talk to anyone, knowing that he was watching me, which made me very uncomfortable. I felt our friends must have thought I was a snob…because I’m not. Given the chance, I’m a warm and caring woman when I’m around people and away from my husband’s influence. So, all these red flags were signaling me, telling me that something wasn’t right with our so called happy marriage. I didn’t know what to do…to be honest. We even went to marriage therapist for a few months to resolve our problems, but that went nowhere. However, I knew this situation couldn’t continue for much longer…a drastic change was needed and I’m going to be the one that has to change it.

About six months ago, I began seriously “sizing” up other men…unbeknownst to Javed of course. If he knew I was doing this…he would beat the shit out of me or worse. Wherever I went, I was looking at men, young and old, age really didn’t matter and rating them on my unofficial “Yuk” scale. From 1 to 10…a village idiot even rated a 1…while a sexy well-hung jock rated a resounding 10. One handsome stud caught my eye down at the supermarket…he was definitely a 10. I was doing the weekly grocery shopping when I backed into the guy with my back. I was backing up so I wouldn’t have to go down an aisle I already been down. I turned and said,

“Oh…sorry. I didn’t see you standing there. Please forgive me?” He smiled and said,

“You’re forgiven. Better here than out on the highway?”

I cracked a smile and agreed. I don’t know why I was flushed in the face and my heart was suddenly beating faster. “I just bumped into the guy…that’s all.” I told myself as if I was suddenly caught in an illicit love affair. However, he smiled and introduced himself,

“I’m Aniket…Aniket Joshi…and you are…?

“Shabana…Shabana Khan…pleased to meet you. Soooo, you shop here much? I don’t think I ever seen you in here before?”

“No…this is my first time. I just got back from the west coast and I’m in the process of moving in and restocking my pantry.”

“Are you a salesman?” A salesman? Why would I assume this gorgeous male animal was a salesman? My usually levelheaded brain was shooting out sentences that didn’t make sense. Aniket smiled and revealed,

“No…I’m a freelance writer. I just bought the old Higgins place out on ******** road.” I nodded and had to admit,

“We live on *** *** Road…not far from you. My family and I live on a five acre land that used to be the farm that was subdivided for development.” Aniket smiled, obviously making small talk…asked,

“Have you lived there long?”

“Yes, just about ten years. Um, I’m a children’s book illustrator and working in the city was to distracting for me, so we bought the farm and lived there ever since.” Aniket looked at his watch and said,

“Well…it was nice bumping into you…Shabana, but I must be on my way. Have a nice day.”

I smiled and went the other way to continue my shopping. Soon I was done and loading the groceries into my Navigator. On my way home, but couldn’t get Aniket out on my thoughts. He was very attractive…thirty-something I guess, but oh how he was put together. Aniket was a definite 10 on my unofficial “Yuk” scale. Sandy brown hair…soft brown eyes and a body…oh my God…like a freakin Greek statue. To think my husband and Aniket are both males…there’s no comparison. However, I have to be fair…Javed is still a good-looking, distinguished man…a 7 or an 8 maybe? But then again, Javed is fifty to Aniket’s thirty-something. Somewhere along the way, Javed went from passionate lover to being a passionless man in less than five years. I was jolted from my deep thoughts by the sound of the garage opener and Sajeed, my son knocking on my window. I smiled and rolled down the window and said,

“Hi Sajeed…home from school so soon?” My son rolled his eyes and said,

“Hi mom, but school’s been over for two months now. I just got home from my summer job down at the municipal pool? Helloooo?”

I guess a Little background concerning my son is in order. Since graduating from high school, my son has been living on his own with our blessing at our lakeside cottage for the past two months and loving it. No mom to hound him I guess. Sajeed and we agreed that he should experience living on his own as a way to prepare him for college life. However, Sajeed has been our “house guest” for the past week because the cottage was being fumigated and it would take almost a month to fumigate it properly. We bought a sixty-year-old cottage that apparently unknown to us at the time was full of termites, carpenter ants, wasps and bees…the price we pay for living at the lake. If I knew it was so infested…I would have never spent so many weekends there because I hate bugs. Anyway, we had planned to have this pest control job done during August and then take a two-week Caribbean cruise to coincide with our eighteenth wedding anniversary. Sajeed wanted to stay behind and work at his summer job to help pay for college, but he was going to leave for college before Labor Day while Javed and I were still on our cruise. Soooo, we told Sajeed he could stay for the remainder of August at our house as long as he didn’t have any wide parties. At first I was cool to the idea, but my son is a good boy. However, plans do change and we had to cancel our eighteenth wedding anniversary Caribbean cruise because Javed was in the middle of a major advertising campaign and couldn’t risk being away for two weeks…with me I guess. Talk about a blow to my self-esteem. I snapped out of my thoughts and apologized,

“Forgive me Sajeed. My mind must be a million miles away. Is your father home yet?” Sajeed shook his head and gave me the first of two messages he received,

“Aasifa is going on a class trip to Agra to see a play and said to tell you not to expect her this weekend.”

“I guess that’ll be alright…Aasifa does love the theater. Um, what was the second message?” I asked as I looked through my bag for my cell.

“Dad is still at work, but he did leave a message saying that he might not be home tonight. Some kind of all nighter brain session…that ad campaign he’s been working on.”

I nodded and squeezed the steering wheel tightly, cursing my cold unfeeling workaholic husband under my breath, then drove into the garage and parked. Sajeed was waiting and offered to help with the groceries. I did need help…actually. I opened the rear hatch and handed Sajeed two bags and said,

“You better let me wash your swimming trunks…I’m doing a wash later. That chlorine is bad for clothes and your skin…so take a shower before you get dressed.” My son flashed me a smile and said,

“You sound just like my boss.” I accepted that as a compliment and said,

“Well, as long as you’re living under my roof…I am still your mom…till the end of August and the rest of your life.”

I watched as Sajeed carried our groceries into the house…still wearing his swimming trunks and sweatshirt. For an eighteen year old, he looks so much more mature than other boys his age. He looks more like a man than the tall, gawky boy I raised. For the life of me, I don’t know how these kids get to be so tall and mature looking. Then again, I’m very tall but my husband, Javed isn’t…he’s 5’10” now so perhaps my side of family’s DNA is the deciding culprit. My Sajeed is very tall and gawky 6’2″ and weighs around two hundred pounds and my daughter Aasifa is 5’6″ and she’s just sixteen and still growing. I just hope she doesn’t get any taller. I know when I was in high school…it was tough getting dates who were taller than me. I was four inches shorter than my husband when we got married, but as we aged gracefully, he could no longer claim that he was 6′ even.” I can now look him right in the eyes when I wear my low heel pumps.

I must admit that my son is very handsome young man and any girl would be happy to him as their main squeeze. I guess I’m guilty of fantasying about my son…well incest in my heart anyway. I wonder if most mothers have these feelings about their handsome sons, but I do realize that incest is a taboo subject and would never come up in everyday conversations. By nature, I’m very conservative, but having these secret taboo thoughts did make me a bit uneasy. After all, I was the perfect soccer mom…hauling my son and his friends to their sporting events when he didn’t have a car…going to PTA meetings…helping out at charity bake sales. I was happy in my little protected world for the most part…aside from any romance in my lonely life. But to think about my son sexually and I can honestly say that I very much doubt if I could ever do something so sick and perverted as to make love to my own son. Maybe reading all those erotic romance novels put the idea in my head in the first place?

But yet, here I am in a loveless marriage…a marriage that is headed on a fast track toward self-destruction and nothing I can do about it. No one on my side of the family ever got a divorce…we stuck with our men until one of us dies. My two sisters have happy marriages and I get pretty annoyed at them sometimes. Here I was the one who married a big wheel in the advertising game while they married common tradesmen…but they seem happier. Wealth and living the good life doesn’t always guarantee happiness. Perhaps I’m too hard on myself. My family does not air out their dirty laundry in public as a rule. I never heard my sisters argue with their spouses, but then, I don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. For all I know…they might fight like cats and dogs…but they never show it.

With the groceries put away, I went up to my bedroom to change into my grubbies and relax for the rest of the day. Today was my day off from my illustration job and I was going to take full advantage of it. First on my agenda was run a wash and maybe later, do some cleaning and if there’s time, I’ll do a little gardening. I made the rounds of the clothes hampers in my bedroom and the bathroom and since the door to Sajeed’s bedroom was partly open, I absentmindedly went in without knocking and caught my son lying on his bed…totally naked and in the heated throws of masturbation. He saw me and said while covering up a bath towel

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