I never dreamed I would be a cheater. When I got married I planned to stay that way, for life. I was more worried that HE might be tempted to cheat than myself. After all, I “would never do that”. Plus I was marrying a man who was going into ministry, we were at church three times a week, both of us were Sunday school teachers, we were making a solid commitment to each other and it just wasn’t even an option. I looked down on people who cheated actually. Ouch. Sometimes life has a way of humbling us.
Prior to meeting the man who would become my husband I was actually pretty wild sexually. I had cheated a couple of times in my life already, but I thought I was beyond that now. Now that I’d become a Christian, now that I was older (well I was barely 21 when we married but I felt mature), now that I’d stopped drinking and smoking pot and running around with the wrong crowd, now I was ready to be serious, and that meant keeping my promises.
My ex- husband was never jealous. He never seemed concerned that I would be less than exemplary or consider cheating, which is really kind of amazing considering my background. I was actually a bit perturbed at his lack of jealousy, but because of my own determination I avoided anything that remotely gave the impression to any other men I might be interested. I barely even looked men in the eye when speaking to them, because I didn’t want them to get the wrong idea. I kept everything very platonic and avoided situations where I might be alone with another man.
I was actually the jealous one. I struggled with fears that he would see another woman and be tempted to cheat, exacerbated by his seeming lack of interest in me sexually. I’d also dated a guy in the past that cheated every chance he could get and who, the minute I’d turn my back would be hitting on my friends or getting the phone number of another woman. He’d actually gotten someone else pregnant while we were together, which caused us to finally breakup. He wasn’t the only one. I’d had no less than THREE previous boyfriends get someone pregnant while we were together. Nice. I’m not sure there is any worse way to end a relationship.
Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure EVERY guy I’d ever dated even somewhat seriously had cheated on me. Every. Single. One. Not a good track record at all. No wonder I couldn’t trust men very well. I’d also slept with guys who had girlfriends on more than one occasion. I’d watched one guy after another cheating on whoever they were with, whether it was with me or my girlfriends, and I never said a word. It had become “normal” in my life and expected. Granted I was running around with some very deviant folks, but nevertheless that was my reality. Once I’d even slept with an older man who I later found out was married. Oops. On my part though, I’d had no idea. Even then I took marriage more seriously.
So anyway, I went into my marriage with the expectation of it lasting forever, and high hopes that he would be the one guy who’d never cheat. I never dreamed that I’d be the one to break those vows. For the first 10 years of my marriage, despite the lack of sexual interaction and feeling rejected by my husband, I was faithful to a fault. My behavior was beyond reproach regarding the opposite sex. I didn’t even allow myself to flirt with other men. Then it all changed.
It was on Myspace that I came across the man who I later came to call The Love of My Life. He was an old friend from my teenage years, someone I had a little bit of a bond to, but back then we’d never been in love. We’d had sex a couple of times but for the most part we were friends. It was a friendship with sexual overtones but we were both so busy having sex with whoever back then that I don’t think it really mattered that we weren’t doing it very often with each other. I’d come to consider him more of a friend than a lover, though I can remember the summer before I left for college, his girlfriend befriending me out of probable fear that I would sleep with him. I’m sure it may have seemed that way but I respected their relationship and because she was nice to me didn’t allow it to go there during that time.
The first time we’d had sex was actually the first time I’d ever cheated on someone in my life. I was 15 years old and had a boyfriend of questionable morals. He’d actually come up with a hickey on his neck the day before but I gave his bullshit story the benefit of the doubt and was still attempting to be faithful.
A couple of boys I knew had picked me up in the middle of a rainstorm and taken me to their house where there were lots of guys and only a few females hanging out. It wasn’t really a party, but sort of. Even though I’d be staying the night I had no intention of sexual activity. Several of the guys tried to coerce me to no avail. “No, I have a boyfriend, I’m not cheating on him” was the refrain. Other people were having sex in different rooms, but not me.
Finally, the one who would later become the Love of My Life came over to me. He sat there and tried to convince me I should have sex with him for like FOUR HOURS. I looked into those beautiful brown eyes and told him no, over and over and over, but he was persistent. His charming ways and sensual demeanor eventually weakened my reserve. Besides, he’d always been a sweetheart to me at school and it was hard to resist.
Afterwards, I felt the need to be honest about my indiscretion, so I told the guy I was dating what had happened. He became insanely angry and picked me up by my throat, slamming me up against my garage door and nearly choking me to death. I was afraid for my life and he said “I ought to kill you”, but finally let go. I relayed this to the guy I had cheated with and my now EX boyfriend got taken care of. He was jumped at a party soon after and I avoided him from then on.
In any case the Love of My Life and I remained friends, only sleeping together a couple of times before I left for college, though I’d slept with and had relationships with some of his brothers. I’d watched him cheat on girlfriends, though he was slick about it and discreet. He’d seen me sleep around and once burst into laughter when I’d had sex with a guy on his bed and heard me joking with a girlfriend about it afterwards. As much sex as we were having, we were both the type to keep it on the down low and put on a proper front to most of the world. We both knew how to keep things secret from those who shouldn’t know. Once he’d even joined in a little mini gangbang with me and two of his brothers. Shhhhh….
Years later, I knew there was no way he was actually faithful to his wife. When he told me via email that things were “rocky” with her I knew it was a hint. Still, I wasn’t ready. I knew, deep down, that he would keep my secrets but I didn’t want to be a woman that cheated on my husband or messed up things with my family. So we messaged back and forth and got closer but it was still under the guise of “friendship”. I rationalized that this was okay, because he really was a friend from my past.
It took 8 months before we actually had sex. I was still clinging to the idea of friendship though he’d made no bones that he felt this relationship was developing into something more. He’d come on, I’d resist. It was like that first night all over again, but it took much longer.
When I was home visiting once we decided to go out for coffee. I brought my toddler with me and had every intention of keeping it “platonic”. I made him promise not to try anything on me beforehand and he agreed. The chemistry between us was electric but he held to his promise, only hugging me at the end and I’ll admit it was hard to let go.
The next time I was back home we met up again, this time at his house, in the middle of the night. He was in his pajamas and his wife was away on a business trip, his toddler was asleep on the living room floor. I’d snuck out to be with him. This had every possibility of turning into something more than friendly and we both knew it but I still didn’t want to believe I was capable of cheating on my husband. So we hung out, cuddling on the couch and eventually it turned into kisses. I couldn’t believe I was going there. He backed me up against the wall with obvious sexual intent and I panicked. I bolted out the door and called him on the phone. I couldn’t do this, it was wrong. I didn’t want to cheat and I couldn’t believe I’d let myself kiss him. I asked if he felt guilty and he said no.
He wasn’t angry with me for leaving and after that our emails got progressively more sexual. I didn’t have a cell phone back then and only had dial up so that was how we mostly communicated. He sent me a naughty video of himself and I was shocked, but liked it more than I want to admit, lol. We’d share fantasies and erotic stories with each other. By the next time we met I knew we’d be having sex. It was planned. I was fully on board with sleeping with him. Not to mention it was my 11th wedding anniversary and my husband didn’t want to do anything. As usual there was no sex. We were visiting my family and he’d gone to sleep when I snuck out of the house.
Here is a excerpt of something the Love of My Life wrote about that night:
I sat in my car in my silk pjs, waiting for her to arrive in a dark, empty, park parking lot. My heart thumped with every passing head light, in anticipation of it being her. Finally, after a few minutes… that seemed like hours, she arrived, like daybreak in a railway tunnel.
She stepped out of the van into the warm, breezy night air, wearing nothing but white, high heeled sandals, a light summer dress that ended just above the knees and a pretty smile. Yep she was all that, with a 5 foot 6 petite frame, long beautiful flowing hair and a smell so intoxicating that it instantly aroused me.
She took a few steps closer to me and wrapped her arms around me. We hugged one another body to body and the warm night air blew strands of her hair into my face. One kiss lead to another. The kisses were almost too much to handle because I could feel her body begin to tremble. Small moans left her lips and in no time I was running my tongue over her neck and between her breasts. She smelled so good!
I reached my hand under her dress and found her naked underneath, just like she had promised. Nothing was there except for bare ass… her soaking wet sex waiting for me. Everything seemed to be so intense… every kiss, every touch and every breath. For me things seem to be so much more intense when I know that I am not supposed to be doing something. We were definitely not supposed to be together that night. That evening was tested… but we made it happen.
While we embraced one another and as I explored her body at will, extremely bright lights interrupted our moment of passion. That’s right, Mr. Officer showed up. To make a long story short, we left on a quest to find a more private place.
After driving to the lake and running into the same officer, we settled at another park and another parking lot on the North side of town. We exited out of our vehicles and continued where we had left off. It did not matter if there were cars driving by and house lights still on, not to mention a bright streetlight illuminating the park… we wanted one another and we wanted one another bad!
The kissing started again and I pushed her against the car, hiking her dress up. I slowly and carefully slid inside her. With each touch, my lips took a breath…. Another kiss and another breath was taken until finally she was panting, trying to catch each breath that I had taken from her. Her erratic breathing sent me over the edge. I turned her around and thrust in her from behind, loving every moment of stolen pleasure. Wow!!! What sweet, sweet memories.
That was the start of a deepening relationship between he and I that has lasted for nearly 5 years, through my divorce and through many ups and downs. We became very emotionally attached to one another and he brought excitement to my life and a feeling of closeness that I was never able to get from my ex, who barely communicated with me. It took a long time before I confessed about the lack of sex and things going on in my marriage. He was there for me when I went through my divorce and without his support it would have been much more difficult.
I didn’t get caught or leave because of my affair. My marriage ended when my ex fell in love with another woman and decided his obsession with her was more important than our marriage. Strangely enough, he never had sex with her. Maybe it was just an excuse but he was willing to divorce over it whilst I had felt it necessary to hold things together for the sake of our children. I was actually relieved.
At the end my ex had said he could only be attracted to me if I would do things like sleep with other men and let him watch or know about it. If only he knew, but I never told. I never trusted him enough to open up that part of my life. I suspected he might turn it against me. He wanted me to have sex with others so he could view me as a “whore” instead of a “Madonna” and that would get him off. I wasn’t willing to share someone special with him or allow myself to be degraded.
So I held on to my secret and I’m glad I did. Still, I would rather not make commitments I can’t keep regarding fidelity and hence the lifestyle I live now, which is more open. I no longer judge cheaters though, because I understand where they are coming from. I’m learning that lesson over and over again “never say never” and you don’t truly know what you will do in a given situation until you’ve been there yourself.