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Lonely Housewife Stories

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Claire took the day off work. Her husband away on business for the week. See had booked a plumber to fix her taps. Claire a 55 yr old business woman, she was tall, long dark hair green eyes, slim and athletic, tanned curvy 14c bust. She was a attractive sexy woman. She longed for and craved the touch of another man.

Name: Dinah
My age: 44
I love: Man
My favourite drink: Absinthe
I have tattoo: None

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After he left for work, I drove the kids to school, already dreading the emptiness I would feel once at home again, alone. This story is part of a series called Craigslist Confessional. Editions Quartz.

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Discover Membership. I packed lunch for my children and helped my husband steam his shirt. Each story is written as it was told to her. We agreed to meet later that afternoon, and in spite of having more than three hours to get ready, I decided to start right away.

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There was nothing in our conversation that came off as flirtatious, but I was curiously looking forward to the appointment with Steve. These are some of our most ambitious editorial projects.

I wondered what my husband would think, and then I pushed the thought from my mind as quickly as it had entered. I poured a glass of chamomile, and sat back down on our couch.

There was a tired shadow behind his eyes, and his demeanor was slightly prickly. Follow Quartz. I carefully edged the car into the garage and snapped the visor mirror open, checking for running mascara. Rita, 30s I woke up that morning with the conviction that the day would be different—better.

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Now I found myself wondering who I was once my family was stripped away. I started crying and was thankful that nothing had happened, but ashamed because had Steve made a first move, I probably would have started an affair with him. To my own shame, I found that I was comparing myself to her and was about to snap my computer shut when I noticed that I had a message notification.

He warmed up to me and there were moments when I caught a glimpse of flirtation. I ran my ring fingers under my puffy eyes, pinched my cheeks red, and straightened up. I showered, shaved, put on lotion, and then I poured myself a glass of red wine.

Determined not to waste my efforts, I overlooked his initial coldness and carried the conversation easily.

More from Quartz About Quartz. I curled my hair and did my makeup, and I stared at myself in the mirror with fresh eyes—seeing for the first time in a long while not just the perfunctory and tired body of a mother, but the beautiful and full body of a woman. here.

But the scars were hard to see from this side of the screen. When I got home, I took off my clothes and threw them in the wash, hoping to clean away any evidence of my afternoon—not from my husband and kids, but from myself. By sharing them, she hopes to facilitate acceptance and understanding of issues that are seldom publicly discussed, at the risk of fear, stigma, and ostracism. I got through two s before I was distracted by my thoughts.

Published March 19, Last updated on April 27, This article is more than 2 years old.

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Update your browser for the best experience. I felt immediately guilty about having spent my afternoon so selfishly, and decided to tidy up around the house before leaving for the appointment. I woke up that morning with the conviction that the day would be different—better.

Behind the makeup and filters, I was certain that they, too, had their own problems and fought their own battles. My friend—the same friend who had recommended Steve—had given me a book to read.

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Our s are made to shine in your inbox, with something fresh every morning, afternoon, and weekend. These are the core obsessions that drive our newsroom—defining topics of seismic importance to the global economy. Although my husband had a steady job, having two kids in a one-income family was getting expensive, so I had reached out to Steve in hopes that he could help us with our savings.

Steve talked about finances and family life, and an hour after we first met, he walked me out of his office as we said our goodbyes.

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I started scrolling through the countless photos posted by people I once knew. Writer Helena Bala has been meeting people via Craigslist and documenting their stories for nearly two years.

My heart raced immediately as I registered the opportunity to have a day outside of the ordinary—perhaps to talk to an old friend or former flame. For some reason, I felt nervous.

This was an innocent meeting. I sat down on the couch and debated what to do for the rest of the day, eventually defaulting to my social media. me up.

By Helena Bala Writer, listener, recovering lawyer. On my drive back home, I felt an overwhelming chill in my gut, a sense of emptiness and shame. But when I clicked on the link, I saw it was a message from the financial planner one of my friends had recommended months ago.