My husband (H) and I have a big love. We had the big crazy in love start that lasted at least three years. Over the next three that love began to change, to something more secure, but still passionate nonetheless. Then our first child was born and in quick succession our second. The children changed everything. We made no time for the two of us and we’re permanently exhausted. Throw in some work and financial pressures (which I felt I shouldered the burden to steer us out of) and something changed between us.
That change was two years ago. I’d just gotten some cosmetic treatments and was feeling pretty, probably for the first time in my life (more on my self-image/worth/esteem to come in a later blog), when an old Uni friend (R) got in touch and asked if I fancied going to a reunion event. My best friend (BFF) and I headed on up to Leeds to meet. Whilst I was excited about seeing R again, reminising about old time’s and caning Es, flirting and maybe a cheeky snog, I never thought I would cheat. I felt strongly that once I did something like that I could never go back, that it would irreparably change my marriage to H.
Later that night, I found myself back at some old friends’ flat and alone in the bathroom with R. I was wearing some super high waisted 50s pin up style pants and found myself asking R if he wanted to see them. He pulled me towards him by my waist band. Lifted my top and began kissing my stomach. He slowly undid my gold brocade shorts. Next thing we are naked in bed, kissing, touching and with R going down on me. I told him him that I knew he was a dog and I wouldn’t be reciprocating as I did not want to risk catching an STI (you can get them from oral sex, you know!). It kinda killed the mood and I said I didn’t want to have sex. We spooned and I traced the tattoo on his chest taking me back to many a night in his single bed in halls.
The next morning we kissed again and I was ready to have sex. But this time he told me no, as he was convinced I would regret it...
PP
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