I thought I should talk a little bit more about what happened between that happy hour and our first real encounter.
A few short days later, I celebrated 12 years of marriage with my husband. If you could call it celebrating. I made him go see Gone Girl with me. If you don't know why that's funny, go look up what the story is about. He had wanted to take a trip, just the two of us, but I just wasn't in a place where I wanted to be alone with him. It's been like this for about 2 years now. This has little to do with my time with Jay, but thought you should get an idea of where my mind was at the time.
Jay and I talked a bit more by facebook until we ventured into text. Conversations were pretty light. How our days were going, what the kids were doing. Lots of questions about each other. There was a lot to learn. I'm a pretty complex person, and I keep a ton hidden from everyone. I'm sure everyone does. A second happy hour was set up, although far fewer people were in attendance. After all, it was just an excuse for us to see each other. This time, far less drinking and I was way more nervous. I honestly couldn't tell you what we talked about that evening, other than a brief conversation about me catching him checking out my boobs, which were nowhere near as concealed as the first time. We all got up to leave and Jay asked for a ride to his car. Jenny, Jay and I walked to the garage pretty casually, but I was already freaking out just a little. Jenny walked on to her car and Jay climbed into mine. I did manage to get him over to his car without hitting anything, but I was pretty distracted. He leaned over to give me a hug and I was lost in his smell again. I really wanted to kiss him, but I was just too conflicted. A part of me just wanted him to take it from me (he was certainly strong enough and confident enough to have done it, but as I would later learn, he just isn't like that). And the other part of me was still not ready to cross that line. Later, he flat out asked me, "What if I kissed you?" I didn't have an answer, at least not one that I could convince myself of being the right one.
After that, the texts were more frequent and less guarded. He's a picture taker, so there are a ton of pics of pretty much everything, not least of which is himself. Which I thoroughly enjoy. More just sharing our days. A couple of missed opportunities to meet up again, but at that point it wasn't that big of a deal to me. Still conflicted of course. About a month after we met the first time, our texts became much more sexually charged. Jay had a dream about me where he could ask me anything and I had to answer. He said it was very erotic, and then jumped straight to asking me when the last time I came was. It was jarring to say the least. I wasn't used to someone being so upfront and asking what he wanted to know. He pushed a little more and said he wanted me to cum that day, and then started to apologize when it was pretty clear I was uncomfortable with the question or the request. No one wants to admit it has been a very long time. He backed off for several days.
I knew he was on a trip anyway, but I didn't want to stop talking. When I knew he would be back in town, I reached out. Something silly about a book I was reading about the power of being quiet. That broke the silence and we slid back into easy conversation. A couple of days later we finally had a chance to meet for a quick drink. Just the two of us. It was nice outside so we sat on the patio. It wasn't as easy as our conversations by text. The first thing he told me was that he was moving. It was a great opportunity and would give his kids some distance from their crazy mother. It was easy to talk to him about that. Not so easy when the conversation turned to me and became more sexual in nature. Me being me and hating talking about myself, still being so completely conflicted about the whole thing. When I had to go, he walked me to my car and leaned in to give me a little kiss on my cheek. I thought I was going to explode. I wanted to pull him back in to kiss me properly. Instead, I just shut the door and went back to get my daughter.
We texted almost immediately about the encounter. It was intense. That was a second missed opportunity to kiss him. I had talked to Jenny about him after the second happy hour. I knew he would accept the kiss, even wanted it, but I wasn't sure if I did. Or at least everything that would come with that kiss. Jenny's advice? Fuck him, he's hot. Super helpful. I flat out told him I should have kissed him. I'm sure he felt the confliction in me and he never pushed me. In that conversation though, I knew I had made my decision. I was going to cross that line and as soon as possible. We set up a lunch for the next week.
The morning of that lunch date, I woke up at 5am panting with anticipation. There was not going to be another missed opportunity. I just kept picturing in my mind walking in the door, dropping my purse, and flat out begging for him to kiss me. He intimidates the fuck out of me though, so when I really did walk in, I barely even made eye contact. Some work issue came up and I walked in irritated. I just stood there awkwardly telling him about the problem. He pulled me in and gave me a hug and I burried my head in his embrace. My subconscious was screaming that I was going to blow this opportunity too. Then I looked up at him and we kissed. I'm not going to write about that kiss. It's all mine. I've talked about it with him many times since and it still makes me wet, weak in the knees, and changes my breathing just thinking about it. What you need to know is that it was full of frustration and lust that had been building for a month. It was the type of kiss that makes you forget just how fucked up your life is. When he was done (I say he, because I sure the hell wasn't done), he pulled me away from the wall and led me to car to go out to lunch. The most frustrating lunch I've ever had. Wondering if that kiss would be all we do that day, if I even cared it was so good. Fuck that, of course I cared. I wanted him badly by the time lunch was over. We did go back to his place and continued where we left off. I'm not going to talk about that either. Just know that it was fucking hot. He is fucking intense in bed, knows exactly what he's doing, and does it with a sense of confidence that blows my mind. He pushed me harder and farther than anyone else ever had before. There was a lot I hadn't told him about my past that I felt effected every part of that interaction though.
When I left, I was lost in thought. I felt everything and nothing at the same time. I crossed the line, and I knew then that I wanted to do it again and again. At the same time, I felt like a big piece of me didn't exist anymore. I've always been a loyal person, even to a fault. I can't ever say that again. The thing that bothered me most was that I was more worried about how it made me feel about myself than I was about how much it would hurt my husband to find out that I cheated. That made me feel worse. Jay immediately wanted to talk about it, hear my thoughts. You'll find that is a running theme in our relationship. I was so far into self-loathing that I'm pretty sure made him feel like I felt like it was a big mistake. The thing is, I didn't feel that way at all. Text is no way to deal with this type of situation.
The next morning I asked if we could meet to talk. And we did. It was very long, deep and intense, but by the end of it I knew I was hooked. This was not going to be what I thought it was going to be, but I was in. He now knew more about me that anyone else in my life, and I was oddly ok with it.
From that point it's been pretty full on. I start my days with a good morning text from him and end my days with a good night text from me. He travels a lot, so I see him when I can. In between we stay in touch through texts that are constantly swinging between sharing mundane parts of our days to full on lust filled texts. He loves to give me homework while he is gone and most of the stories that you will read in this blog stem from those assignments.