You know that uneasy feeling you get when you see that subtle change change in her. She starts spending more time at the gym, doing her makeup or hair a little different, seems a bit happier and she’s spending more and more time “out with the girls.” That uneasy feeling is me, or someone like me.
Let me preface this by saying I know what I’m doing is wrong. I know it has the potential to tear families apart, break hearts and create scars that will last a lifetime. It hurts me. Every single time I do it, it cuts into me deeper than the last. I’m not proud of it, in fact I hide it from everyone in my life, even my closest friends. Which is why it feels good to write this. That’s not to say I don’t get anything from it, because I do. But first a little context.
I’m 28, single, live in a major metropolitan city and have a comfortable life. I have great family and friends, and have no problem meeting unattached women.
Three years ago I met a woman, let’s call her Melissa, who was at the tail end of a divorce. We met at the gym and despite a bit of an age gap, we hit it off instantly. She was still living with the guy, a cop, who wasn’t quite abusive but certainly didn’t treat her well.
She was completely upfront about her situation and said she wasn’t really interested in meeting anyone. I told her I understood, that wasn’t my angle (truthfully, it wasn’t) and that if she ever just wanted to talk and get the perspective of a guy, I’d be happy to listen. She seemed so taken aback that someone wanted to listen, that someone actually cared about how she felt, so grateful for some intimacy even on a platonic level, it just gave me a good feeling to know that maybe I was helping her in some way — at least in my mind.
So over the span of a couple days, coffee and talking turns to drinks and laughing. I don’t know her well, but I can already see a change in her. Like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders and maybe she just needs a little fun in her life right now. Drinks turn to poor decision making and as I go to drop her off, the evening ends with Melissa bent over the hood of my car in her garage having the loudest orgasm I’ve ever heard (she lived in a high rise building with underground parking so husband wasn’t likely to stumble on us).
After that, our dynamic pretty much turns physical. We fuck everywhere. My place sometimes, her place when her husband is at work, the car, the gym, the beach. Frankly it’s great. It’s hot, is feels a little dirty and forbidden and she fucks like she hasn’t gotten off in years — which very well could have been true.
I think that’s about where something clicked for me. I wasn’t really meeting women that I could see spending any amount of time with, and with Melissa, I was giving her something that made her feel desired, acknowledged and appreciated. The quid-pro-quo here, I got great sex and the feeling that maybe I had helped her out a bit.
Few weeks later, she tells me that she’s going to try and work things out with her husband. I tell her I’m happy for her and I hope it works. We hug goodbye and haven’t spoke since. In no way am I suggesting that I had anything to do with her and her husband getting back together…just explaining how it tapered off.
Here’s where the shameful part begins. Since then, I’ve actively began seeking out married women. Almost exclusively. I would say at least 50. It’s shocking how easy it is. I’m not married, so I don’t know much about the intricacies of marital bliss, but I will tell you that there are SO many women out there who are angry, hurt, feel unappreciated and unfulfilled. They’re everywhere.
I’ve had relationships with married women that I’ve met at the grocery store, gym, bookstore, malls, restaurants, coffee shops, IKEA, fucking Home Depot. It is just so easy to spot. The prolonged eye contact, ring check, and bashful smile which is essentially an invitation to come talk to them. So many beautiful women (inside and out) that just get ignored by their husbands.
Men, you want some insight into why your wife would cheat on you? The number one complaint that I hear as the man lying in bed next to your wife, “He just doesn’t listen to me.” Women are feeling-driven. They need to be show affection, both physical and emotional. Perhaps more than anything, they need to feel loved and desired. That doesn’t mean with your fucking cock, it means picking up on the subtle cues when they’re unhappy or having a bad day and giving a fuck.
Maybe to a certain extent I am taking advantage of these women or where they are in their life. I used to tell myself that I was balancing it all out by giving them something that they were lacking at home. Whether physical or emotional.
Yesterday afternoon something happened that really stung deep. One of the women I’ve been seeing lately, let’s call her Jessica, is 36, very pretty and sweet, married mother of 3. We met a couple weeks ago at a bar when she was out with some girlfriends.
We start talking, hit it off well and within 15 minutes she’s telling me how tough things are with her husband. This…right here….those words…”Having a tough time with my husband”…spoken to a stranger, it’s basically saying “Hey, I need a break, need some excitement. I’m open to sleeping with you.”
So a few drinks, I walk her to her car, we kiss and trade email addresses. Next day I get an email telling how great it was to meet me and asking if I’d like to come to her yoga studio for a class I accept and class is great. We grab Jamba Juice afterwards……yadda, yadda, yadda….we end up fucking on the floor on a yoga mat. She’s awesome. Again, just one of those women that seems like she hasn’t been touched or show attention in years.
So we’ve been doing this for a couple weeks now. Same routine, I get a free yoga class and get to fuck the instructor afterwards. It’s actually been great, one of the best relationships like this I’ve had in a while and we get along so well. No expectations or innuendoes about the future of our relationship, just fun and enjoying each other.
Yesterday, same routine. I go to class, and after class we’re fooling around. The studio is essentially a big storefront with a small bathroom in the back and shades covering the windows in the front of the room. We typically just lock the front door and fuck on the floor towards the back of the room.
So the door is locked, we’re 45 minutes in, she’s on top and getting close, I put my hand on the back of her head and pull her face into the nook of my shoulder and we cum together. She pull’s her face away from my shoulder, kisses me and says “that was fun.”
As she starts to sit up and pull her hair into a pony tail, I literally see the color drain from her face and she immediately starts crying and shaking. I turn my head and there’s a guy standing about six feet away from us. It’s her husband. He let himself in. I get up real quick, dick still hard and condom filled cum, thinking I’m about to get the shit kicked out of me. The guy is crying. Hard. Not even looking at me, but instead at his wife, naked, kneeling on a yoga mat in the studio he helped build for her.
And this. Right here. Is the absolute lowest moment of my life. I feel like scum. Worse than scum. And I can feel myself start to tear up to thinking about this family that I just rained down disfunction on. The kids. And it’s not like it was some fucking mistake. It was me. I sought this out for my own perverted self gratifying reasons. I couldn’t go fuck some trixie at a bar, I had to purposely seek out a married woman. A fucking mother. A now my fucked up decisions have caused a family to fall apart.
I didn’t say a word. Pulled on my shorts, grabbed my clothes and mat and just walked out. They both stayed put and neither looked at me on the way out. The last thing I heard him say was, “I don’t understand.”
So I’m done. I swear. This is my confession and it will serve as a reminder of the pain I’ve already caused and the potential harm that my own fucked up behavior can bring not just to one person, but to a whole family.
From the bottom of my heart – to the families that my actions affected. I am so very sorry. I was immature, irresponsible and exploitive. I’m so, so sorry.