For years, my husband had been on a roller coaster when it came to the ways he treated me and my family. There were some days where he would be the sweetest man on earth; but other – darker – days where he would “accidentally” grab me a little too hard, pull me into a kiss a little too roughly, or even put his hands around my neck when he lost his cool. He has even hit one of our children once when he got angry that they tried to eat something they shouldn’t have. Mostly, he would just feed the kids, brush their teeth, and lay around playing video games all day. I’m the breadwinner in the family – he’s a stay-at-home dad. I wanted it to be that way until we moved back to the United States.
When I come home, I end up doing a lot of the house work. I admit the place becomes pretty trashy since I hardly have time to do the “work” after getting home from work. It gets tiring. Slowly, my interest in him has been fading. Slowly, I see others out there who can more easily spark a flame back onto my dying candle. I love my husband, but only as a friend now.
Now, this new man… I’ve known him for four years already. He, in fact, works with me. It wasn’t until recently that we had noticed each other’s occasional glance of appreciation at how attractive the other is. One day, I confess to him that I had been wanting to touch him in less-than-appropriate ways for awhile. He simply replied, “Same here.”
We did things. Lots of things. We kissed. I felt fire. Fire that I hadn’t felt since my first kiss all those years ago. We touched. I ran my hand through his soft hair. I felt electricity through my body, something I never felt with my husband. Eventually we made love. It was amazing. He wasn’t larger than my husband, but he was more loving, more caring, more passionate.
I feel terrible for this.