The Job (Volume One) by Dawn Robertson

I never thought my life would come to this. Day-in and day-out I am living a lie. A really big fat fucking lie. Behind my perfectly made up PTA mom face, I hide a deep and dark secret no one would ever guess; not in a million years. The overachieving soccer moms who are so wrapped up in their children’s activities they don’t even realize their lives are crumbling before their eyes… that used to be me.
    I was one of them and didn’t even realize it until it was far too late. I overcommitted across the board and neglected my husband too much. I was the baseball snack mom and the car pool lead for the football team. I was the PTA President at the local elementary school three years in a row and the fundraising chair at our family’s church.
    I was the perfect Stepford Wife and it cost me the life I had so carefully built.
    Why?
    Because I didn’t take care of my husband. I didn’t give him the attention he needed or wanted. I overachieved with my children and the community and I left my husband out to dry… or jerk off. He did what most of the other husbands are doing right this very minute… cheating. He looked elsewhere for someone to fantasize about while I was too busy baking cookies or decoupaging that thrift store table.
    Our husbands are looking for the woman that will bend over their desk for twenty minutes in between conference calls, even if it costs him a couple hundred dollars. They are looking for the twenty something that won’t think twice about sucking dick in a parking garage where they could possibly get caught. They want excitement. They want new. They want the rush of it all. Even if it isn’t from you. Preferably if it isn’t from you, actually. They want that spark of excitement a new relationship or hookup brings.
    The stolen kisses, or the sexy lingerie followed by anal. That’s what they all want. But once children are thrown into the mix, we forget about what they want. Pleasing them isn’t our top priority. This preset notion of what a good mother is in our society takes the front seat. We forget they are men who think with their dicks instead of their heads. It doesn’t change with age; it only gets worse.
    I don’t know how I ended up being the woman that made their fantasies come true; possibly it was my own desperation, but I can tell you that when they take twenty minutes out of their day to put an ad on Craigslist looking to pay for sex… you and your children are not who they are thinking about. Actually, you are the farthest thought from their mind.
    I live a double life. I am the overachieving single mother who fucks men for a living. I didn’t dream of becoming a prostitute as a child. It just kind of happened when my own husband left me for a younger version of myself. It began with the distress to survive and support my children. But now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. The desire these men have for me is a drug that fuels my fire and repairs the ego that my ex-husband smashed to pieces the second he walked out on our family.
    It feels good to finally be desired by someone. Even if it is all for a quick buck.

I did it all right.
    I graduated high school without getting pregnant by some jock on the football team, unlike so many of the other cheerleaders. I went to college and got a degree I could use in real life and managed to not end up date raped or with some nasty STD from a frat party. I got a job. I fell in love and we started a beautiful family.
    Three children I couldn’t imagine my life without even if they drive me absolutely batshit crazy sometimes. I mean, don’t all mothers have that feeling? My oldest son thinks he knows everything, but I guess most teenagers do. In other news, how the hell am I old enough to have a teenager? Trenton just turned thirteen and is going on thirty overnight. Brady is your average ten year old. I virtually have no complaints, which is odd because shouldn’t the middle child have that middle child syndrome? Not him. Then