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.
