Tag Archives: maritial affair

One step forward….two steps back…

3 Sep

but with greater awareness.

The more that we hide behind the stark reality of who we are the more these aspects are buried but at some stage they will arise and with greater intensity.

All these aspects require a defence to ease the anxiety. For me, I have a few defences – smoking, affairs and being a submissive. All an addiction and did I mention sex, the sweet joyful sex – erotic enough to have you savour the moment for all your tomorrows.

Although these defences served me purpose in the past they have become unhealthy.

Wipe away my cool exterior, the make-up, the perfect outfit and here I sit vulnerable. The shame comes in sweeps, not a tame current but a tidal wave drowning my existence.

That same shame hit me last night in the throws of spending another evening with Simon. We stayed in an apartment – hotel, it was perfect. We chatted intensely over dinner, if you are to ask me what we chatted about – I can’t recall but there wasn’t any silences. Three bottles of wine later we were soaking in a bath, lit only by candles (to melt on my body) and everything felt so right. My defence was letting me forget “me” and all that comes with being me, there I was being admired by this man…

We had sex in the bath to then continue in the bedroom. It was purest to the sense I have ever known for vanilla sex but that didn’t last long…he spanked me, whipped me with a crop, a paddle….

And there we had sex again…maybe several times and though it fulfilled me in every manner I still wanted more…something in me wasn’t satisfied. The sex was my defence last night….

To the outside world a perfect evening…the windows were ajar and in the heat of the moment I heard passer-by’s and was strangely aroused by this concept of someone hearing us..this seemed to turn me on more and I thought of others watching us….

But there in the middle of the night, my body sprawled naked around Simon the real me “Lucy” and all her anxieties hit. And I cried…I cried with guilt and shame of what I was doing to my husband. I saw a vivid image of my husband in my thoughts, being at home alone and finally realised he is worth much more than what I have to give.

I don’t know how Simon felt about my upset. We both didn’t sign up to an affair that would have his married lover crying with guilt about her husband. I don’t know how men usually respond to this as I have never experienced this upset with any of them before.

Simon held me, cuddled and gave me tissues. Within a few minutes I had composed myself and back to kindered spirit that Simon thinks of me. On reflection I wondered if I felt safe to open up to him….I don’t know.

As for today, the drive to work was awful. Even the radio couldn’t drown out my actions or the thoughts I had. I wanted to cry but the “ice-queen” in me had returned, the emotions were buried and was to be dealt with another time.

To think that once upon a time I was thrilled with the concept of being the other women, disregarding the wife as if I owed her nothing, to not think of her life or the life of others, treating them all like puppets so I can ease my anxiety and here I am now….wanting to erase it all and not having a clue how or what I should do.

It is a lonely place to carry this secret alone and have others to think of you as “special” when you see your reflection it was only one of disgust.

Then again…I will arise from this place and carry on like I have done before but this time I can see through the clouds and know the path I am wishing to take.

I just hope I don’t continue this affair with Simon and somewhere in him or me we finish it before I spiral into depths that I can’t return from.


Writing to My Sensei

30 Aug

To: Sensei

From: Lucy

12th August

There she was finally knelt before him. Vulnerability cursed her soul, the only way she knew excitement. The body longed for his complete control and he was willing to provide it.

His order came fast. The heart quickened eager to please, the hand in her hair raised her head to look into his eyes. This was the part she disliked most, her eyes were the only part of her that showed desire, need, pleasure and fear; only those truly connected could tell her emotions.

She wished she was blindfolded.

He saw her pleasure and longing for him as he rubbed his dick gently over her lips. Her tongue crept to the edge for just one lick and he allowed her that; twirling around the thickness. She was ready to suck him but he ordered for her to sit up and spread her legs wider ” so I can see all“.

There she was, exposed to him – to be looked at while he tied her up, arms behind her back in the favourite position she knew so well.

In that gleeful moment the tingling hot sensation crept through her veins flowing to her skin her mind free to allow her body to accept his orders, touch and whatever was to be. his touch unfamiliar curved her stomach teasing her inner thigh with his fingers and the feeling of his breath upon her.

She opened her legs further inviting him to join, her eyes focusing on his dick. The cool hands pushed her head down she was not to look, only at the floor.

The fingers of his hands opened to grip the pressure points of her neck. He was now behind her, his dick rubbing against the small of her back his left hand covering her mouth and the right moving in circling movements until he reached her clit, his head bent so he could graze his teeth over her neck. All they had been waiting for had begun…….


Upon his request and much to my reluctance my dearest Sensei requested for me to write  about our first night (as above). Prior to this he had shared via e-mail on what he would think our first night would be like. His writing tantalised my senses, senses I didn’t even know I had. Through the course of several days and three e-mails later he had imprinted vivid thoughts on what it would be like to be alone with him.

Our first night together, over two weeks ago was somewhat different from both of our fantasies but still invigorating enough to have us meet again last week for a brief afternoon encounter. Unfortunately with my work schedule and home life we were unable to meet this week but our souls will be intertwined again on Monday.



The e-mail

23 Aug

The e-mail

While deleting e-mails last night I came across one from Mr M that I hadn’t previously deleted. It was sent in the midst of winter, January to be exact. I can remember the coldness, the closeness we shared but they are merely far away thoughts.

The subject was: What animal would you be?

I remember him phoning me in the midst of returning his e-mail for him to provide the answer to what I would be.

A wild horse.

A wild horse?

I wanted to be a “nice” kitten, an animal to be held, looked after, caressed and cherished. Deep within me this desire must exist on a human level.

Instead, I project this image to the outside world….

* Dressed in pencil skirts & shirts mid-week then the relaxed look at week-end. I will be the one wearing the dress on the Saturday night, holding hands with my husband usually within a group. I’m the friendly one, making everyone laugh – hugging & kissing friends and family on both cheeks as they arrive and leave. Everyone will feel desired and loved, I’m still waiting for that feeling to arrive with me but nobody seems to notice as I’m the…..

* impermeable one to who meets me.

* Fiercely independent, the quality they most admire but if someone took their time, to really uncover this pretence they will see the fears that drive the independence, keeping me “alone” with no real attachment and constantly running from the outside world and the thoughts I have within me.

* The charming female, there is an actress within me. I’m always listening, responding with the right words. I get to know you like no other, telling me fears and dreams, I carry everyone’s secrets well. While the real me is hidden, I carry my secrets upon my back in a heavy sack.

In secret….

* I cry alone, the sadness getting too much. My eyes become swollen and I look like I have hay-fever.

* I daydream of being a princess for a day 😉

* I watch myself in the mirror, disliking the parts of me that many love…my eyes “Lucy, the windows to your soul”. If you saw my soul and the things I do, would you be my friend. “Your smile lights up the room”….it covers my breaking heart….”You have perfect legs”…would you still like them if you saw them wrapped around a strangers body last night?

* I have sex with married men. Entering an affair to escape the reality. I play them like a violin, enticing them to leave them without a good-bye.

* I spend nights with these men but leave during the middle of the night or early morning (5/6am). Unfortunately with Simon I stayed till morning (note to self: don’t do this again).

And to the animal, what would I be….the wild horse. Mr M was right. Unfortunately I’m too scared to be that kitten, to be rejected and left alone.

Until the wild horse meets the kitten within, I continue…it’s another day, the pencil skirt is waiting to mask this body of mine, the smile is ready to come and there I will walk. This body of mine will carry me, fending off the demons in my head…I’m a strong and independent women longing to be the submissive that’s in my head.


Come away with me….

21 Aug

Wait, before you answer. This is what I promise.

You will feel wanted and desired, something you are missing from home. She is too busy for you at the moment but I am only busy for wishing to be with you.

My eyes will only be for you. She once had eyes for you but she is now too busy with life to notice you.

The body I have is for you to touch. I will not reject you like she does when you touch her, I will beg for your touch.

Your words is all I wish to hear, I will listen about your day and ask questions she does not wish to ask.

What will happen afterwards?
We will go our separate ways, she will be waiting for you at home.

Will you keep in contact with me?
Of course my dear, a text, e-mail and telephone calls. Does she contact you like this?

Will I see you again?
In those stolen moments, I will invite you to leave your world behind again. We will meet somewhere in between. She will not know, your secret (me) is safe

Come away with me…..


Dancing with the wolves…

13 Aug

Dancing with the wolves...

Regardless of what position we play within the affair, the cheater, the mistress or the betrayed spouse we all dance with the wolves; changing our positions.

Karpman’s Relationship Triangle is an excellent demonstration on how a couple may dance when they meet (not always the case though), taking on a role from the following, possibly changing over time:


Then a third party is invited to the triangle in the form of an affair. The betrayed had no choice in the dance not inviting the other to join the unified sanction of the marriage. Only when the affair is found out the betrayed may take the unwilling victim role who is persecuted by her/his partner. The betrayed will change step slowly and may want to rescue the marriage from the unknown angst of this horrid affair. The role will change and in time they will position themselves as the persecutor in turn feeling wrongly done in turn gets angry and resentful for being made to dance with the wolves.

The cheater…he/she possibly persecutes the partner for not loving enough, lack of intimacy, communication problems, children coming first, not enough sex; the list is endless or possibly any explanation to enable them to rationalise their wayward behaviour. The cheater is now the victim in the dance and the affair partner is the rescuer from this “horrid lifestyle” but becoming the victim when the excitement of the affair is ended. The cheater will no doubt want to rescue his/her marriage, save their married partner in any way they can.

Dancing with the wolves isn’t fun but it can be one explanation of the dynamics we go through when experiencing an affair; regardless of what dynamic we are in.

Some of us are born rescuers, maybe this is how you have related to your partner from the moment you met. The victim role plays a cruel hand when we are dealt with health conditions or events outside of our control – an affair being one of them. Persecutor; the part we may not like – within us all.

I am the wolf dancing, you can catch me smiling thinking I have it all under control. I watch the dance before me, sometimes at the edge. I listen to the married men before me and more times enough I feel like rescuing their wives and not them. A horrid thing to say but the truth.

Mr M who had two children has never cooked a meal for his wife or cleaned. He played the victim role as she wasn’t interested in sex and the children came first. I tried to rescue the situation for him, explaining she might be tired keeping a house going all the time and looking after the children, the last thing she may want is sex. I gave him a recipe on how to cook an easy meal, to give her a break – he looked at me like I had horns in my head but never did bother.

I have little respect for the married men I have affairs with (except Mr A); they possibly feel the same way for me too. They become emotionally entwined in my life, seemingly wanting a care free affair and then their neediness begin. They want more time from me, more talking then they start to say I like you moving onto I love you, to then ask me …do you ever wonder what if. No, I have never wondered what if. Why would I want to be with a man who cheats, even more disturbing why would a man want to love his beloved wife, the honest one of us all for a female who is clearly a cheater. They are possibly looking for the rescuer in me but I am not here to rescue anyone; only selfish enough to rescue myself.

I leave the dance at this stage, looking for the next wolf. Wherever he may be and my dance with the wolves continue.


Domestic bliss or sex toys…..

10 Aug

I woke this morning to find him (my husband) rubbing my naked back, nipping my ass gently, his lips upon my neck to then grip my arms above my head. I closed my eyes and in one tasteful moment I pretended it to be Simon, on what it would feel like to have him so close. I banished this thought from my head while I gave myself to my husband to have our dogs start barking and the golden moment was broken and we did not return to it. We ate breakfast in the garden like husband and wife, I was slightly confused and frustrated on why couldn’t merely enjoy the moment. Would it have been different with Simon? Would Simon have been able to ignore the whining of dogs and take my body in that blissful moment, forgetting the outside world and being as one?

Our husband and wife and the domestic bliss we live continued, both excitedly booking our holiday for the New Year, sharing a bottle of wine over lunch and then to visit Ann Summers. My wishes to take control over me (about time!). It was only yesterday that I was in a different Ann Summers to be purchasing toys for my night with Simon. I awed in the delight of the shop with my husband beside me this time and I wanted to purchase a ball gag “Lucy, you would never wear that – your not into that and I know you better than anyone. It would be a waste of money”.

I smiled sweetly up to my husband, of course he knows me better – I would wear one at any opportunity and Simon informed me last night he has bought me the ball gag, restraints and has me guessing of the other toys. I guess a stranger knows me better?

And what have I got for Simon. I was sadly disappointed that Ann Summers don’t stock prostate massagers however I will order this for another time. Instead I have chosen a couple toy:


What did I buy with my husband. To avoid the fiasco of this morning I have purchased a stunning vibrator with seven different settings, it will see me through those moments when my dear husband leaves me on the lurch to see to the dogs.


We bought elegant restraints with lace…will possibly stay in the box but my vibrator on the other hand will be my favourite toy for now.


Dear Reader,

7 Aug

Sorry if my words cause you upset for the behaviour I do in secret.

I am not here to pretend to be an angel, quite the contrary. It is my own space where I tell my story like it is, no lies or secrets. I do not seek self-worth of my writing or through the men I encounter. There is an emptiness that none of them can fulfil or if I ever wish for them to do so.

I speak truth to the men I meet. I care not to change my life or change their life. I do not care for love, their money, their compliments but a  chance to escape from the wilderness of this life. Yes, there are many other ways to escape, you possibly have healthier ones than I but I do not judge you for your wrongs or rights.

Likewise, I care not for these men to ever leave their wives, if I get any inkling of this I leave and stop all contact with them. I do not beg these men to have an affair with me, they are open from the start. They treat me as they wish in the boundaries we have placed, this is the only respect we have for each other.

Maybe we are filth as you rightly pointed out, this is how I feel in my darkest moments; a form of self-punishment perhaps for all the good times I share with them?

Do I have regrets for the life I lead, yes I do but I don’t know how to stop or if indeed I want to. The pattern of my behaviour has been like this for so long but there has been many times I wanted to change and have but only to result in me lapsing.

For some, you may think I don’t love my husband. What is this based upon? The societal rules that you follow and what you are taught as love? Maybe I explore the meaning of love in other ways. I am not saying what I do is right, far from it.

I have looked at my husband many times, feeling the guilt and shame for my actions. I have finished with him but he says he is not ready to let go. In fact during those difficult times when I want our marriage to end and I am so close in telling him about my affairs it is then that he talks about “suicide”, how he couldn’t cope without me in his life and he just wouldn’t know what to do. This plays on my heart, yes I have a heart buried deep in my soul that you may not see within my blogs. I want to protect him but yet he knows I will always be there. I know I will never be there 100%.

We have tried couple therapy but I look at him in those vulnerable moments and I can’t help but to keep my secrets safe from him as I can’t dare to shatter his hope that me Lucy, his wife is not the faithful person he thinks. Therefore couple therapy is not useful unless we share all the parts of ourself..the good and the bad.

And like this blog, I have never sugar coated my words to describe my actions as good or bad. It is a safe haven for me to explore my thoughts, behaviour and feelings and hopefully one stage, like you my dear reader be the faithful lady to a husband that loves me.

I am sorry to have upset you.

Lucy x