Off Like a Dirty Shirt

SH, DD and I are heading out of town bright and early Tuesday morning to make the trip to my parents' for Christmas. His parents live about an hour away from mine, but thankfully they will be away over the holidays, thus eliminating the need for dragging DD around too much. Hallelujah.

Due to the fact that my parents keep their computer in the family room for all to see what's going on, I won't be posting while I'm there. That's all I need is to have some nosy family member peeking over my shoulder while I'm writing about how much I miss TDH!

And miss him I will. Immensely. Though I'll have my phone on the entire time I'm away, and he'll be texting like crazy, plus he's already promised to call me Christmas day sometime in the afternoon. With all the craziness that will be going on with family, it won't be a problem to sneak away for a few minutes to hear his voice.

I'll be back sometime next week - not entirely sure when - and will be dying to catch up on all your blogs. Hope you all have a wonderful Christmas, Hanukkah, or whatever you celebrate, and I hope your days are full of love, sex and excitement, and little (if any) heartache.

Love you all!

An Apology and An Update

I must apologize for being so erratic in my posting. I seem to be bouncing all over the place, trying to give some back story, but wanting to write about recent goings on too. I find there is so much that I want to spill, that I'm having a hard time organizing my thoughts and feelings into anything coherent.

Because I've been keeping everything bottled up for so long, I was actually terrified to start this blog. No one besides TDH (and his wife) know anything about this affair, and I didn't realize how much I hated not being able to tell anyone until I started writing. I was also scared of being judged by people that I didn't even know - but in the end, having to do this for myself won out. I am certain that I will get the occasional comment preaching about what a horrible person I am, but I've decided I can deal with that.
Surprisingly the support and understanding I've gotten in my first month of blogging about this has been completely overwhelming. Never did I imagine so many people were in the same kind of situation, but as sadistic as it may seem, I'm glad I'm not the only one.

*****

SH has been around this past week, and I've been going like a bat out of hell trying to get my shopping done before we head out of town over Christmas. I've managed to squeeze in a couple meetings with TDH, but his wife is in detective hyperdrive at the moment, after deciding that since she hasn't caught him doing anything wrong in the past 4.5 months, there must be something going on. We're being very, very careful.

As a result of that though, when we met up yesterday for the last time before the holidays, it was somewhat tainted. He was in a fabulous mood to be with me, but kept bringing up his wife. Not in a way that should bother me, just saying how she's so suspicious lately, and constantly picking fights with him. Usually I don't mind him talking about her a bit, since I talk about SH too, and we've always talked about our lives outside of our relationship, but it was just a bit too much yesterday; it caused me to be considerably less giddy than I usually am when we're together.

Still, it was great, and we exchanged gifts over breakfast. Since he knows my penchant for writing, one of the things he got me was a pen. This was by far my favourite of the gifts he gave me. I know, what's so special about a pen, right? Well, it was because he though about my love of writing, my favourite colour, the colour ink I prefer, the fact that I love a fine tip pen, and the way I love it to glide across a page into consideration, and picked one he knew I would love.

When I opened it I actually squealed, and even ooohed as I doodled on the Christmas paper it had been wrapped in. It writes perfectly. As I doodled my first and last names he watched and then said "Now write your real name." And while I knew what he meant, I smirked to myself and wrote my first name and maiden name, then looked to him for approval. He smiled at me and said softly "I mean the name you are meant to have," meaning my first name, and his last. I bent over the paper and wrote it out without a pause - it was strange how natural it felt to write it, considering I've never doodled it before.

"That's perfect," he whispered, "just as it should be."

And of course, my heart beat a little faster, and I smiled just a little more, enough to make my dimple show, which caused him to smile too.

And So It Continues

The next day he sent me a text message, telling me the exact time he would call, so that I could prepare myself. The fifteen minutes leading up to 6pm were some of the longest in my life; I'll never forget the sick feeling in my stomach.
When my phone rang I gripped the receiver in terror, half wanting to throw it across the room in an attempt to make the whole situation go away, and half wanting to hear his voice in my ear, secretly hoping he would tell me I'd imagined this whole thing, and that everything was still okay.
In actuality I let it ring 3 times, pressed the talk button, and squeezed my eyes shut before I squeaked out a pathetic hello.

Kate? Hi you. How are you?
I'm okay.
Are you sure? Oh my god, I am so sorry for all this, I've been going crazy not being able to get hold of you...did you have your phone off?
Yeah. I just couldn't deal with this.
I'm so sorry! I never, ever wanted it to come to this, you know that right?!?
I need you to tell me what happened.
Okay, okay, well...
No wait! I don't think I can handle hearing it!
I know Katiecat, I know...are you sure you don't want to know?
(me, thinking for a long moment)
Okay, tell me quickly.

And then he proceeded to tell me about her walking upstairs one night after he was in bed, and her just flat out saying she was leaving him. She had explained how she found out, and since there was no denying it, he decided to confess instead.
After she listened to him spill his guts about most of it, she said she was leaving anyways. He told her that she needed to stay, that they needed to work it out for their child.
He said she wanted to know how long it had been going on, and all the places we had sex (he omitted several from the list), how we had managed to be so cool and collected when we had all run into each other in the past, and the worst part - she wanted to know if he loved me. He told her no. He said it had been just about the sex.

It was about then that the tears started rolling down my face, but I kept silent, letting him talk. He said that he told her he didn't love me, because she said if he had been in love with me it would have been too much for her to take.

Then he said to me "Kate, I just couldn't tell her the truth, I have already hurt her so much. But that email...you know I would never say those things to you...(this is where he started crying), you know that. But she was standing there when I wrote it, and I was trying to keep calm, like it didn't hurt me to write to you that way. Oh god Kate, I love you so much, I know you'll never forgive me for this, but you have to know the way I feel, you know I wish you were mine."

And then he was gulping, and telling me how sorry he was, and how much he loved me. And he said that she was monitoring everything he did - checking his cell phone records, the calls coming in at home, every email account, calling him every 5 minutes to find out where he was. Apparently the only way she had agreed that they could work it out was if I was completely cut from his life (which obviously is what I expected), and never tried to contact him.

As a side note here, because I asked him about it, she felt that him having this affair was far worse than anything she had ever done, because we had actually had sex. Someone, please, please explain to me how her carrying on an affair for months that included everything but the particular act of intercourse, was any better. And she had cheated with more than one person! Fuck.

Sorry, bit of a tangent there.

Anyways, after that initial phone call he would text me or ask me to call him every day that he could get out for 5 minutes. We would email each other little updates of our lives, trying to sound upbeat, but petering off at the end of each message with "I miss you - I hate not seeing you."

Those kinds of messages and quick phone calls went on like that for about a month. It was almost like we were just getting to know each other again - feeling each other out to see where things were going to go. What do you do when neither one of you actually wants out of the affair? Do you let it go because of other circumstances, or do you keep it going - seeing each other less, thus torturing yourselves more?

But then one day I had my answer. It just happened to work out that I was heading somewhere that happened to be in his neighbourhood. He somehow managed to sneak into his bathroom to text me to find out exactly when I would be near his house, then he told me to stop on a certain side street and wait.

A few minutes after I stopped he actually came running down the road, after telling his wife he was going to get the mail. When I saw him coming towards me I almost collapsed on the road beside my car. My knees were weak, and it was all I could do not to run and throw myself at him. Instead though, I stayed leaning against my car, one leg bent with my foot pushed up behind me, my arms crossed and sunglasses on, trying not to show how emotional I was. But that was all over when he was about 20 feet away and I saw the smile break across his face...he actually yelled "Kate!!!!" and ran over and scooped me up and swung me around on that street.

"Oh fuck! You look so beautiful - I have missed your beautiful face so much." Then he put me down and stood back and stared at me. I stumbled back towards my car and said "Whoa, hi!"

I took my sunglasses off and looked up at him smiling down at me, and I knew. Seeing each other was the answer that we had both been pussyfooting around since we had been found out - this affair was going to continue. And 5 minutes later, when he told me he had to get back home before she started wondering, he bent down and wrapped his arms around me, buried his face in my neck, pressed his lips up against me and said "I love you Kate."

And though I knew at that moment that it was never going to be as easy as it had seemed before, he still wanted me like I wanted him, and if 5 minute meetings every week were all we were going to get for now, it was worth it.

Yes, We Got Caught

TDH was always so careful about everything - removing the history from any computer he was ever on, clearing every voicemail and text from his phone before he got home, having some excuse for why he was staying up long after his wife went to bed. He was meticulous about it to the point of annoyance.

I, on the other hand, was the epitome of dumb girl. I saved certain text messages that made my heart flutter, I had a little envelope of notes and doodles he'd randomly left on my desk when we worked together, I kept every email he'd ever sent that was beyond a "Hey, how's it going?" Of course, since we've gotten caught I'm much more careful, but still, the giddy 15 year old inside me keeps me from getting rid of everything.

The funny thing about it all, is that he's the one that got us caught. He left one message I'd sent him earlier in the day in his facebook account, and his wife found it. He didn't even know she knew his password - but somehow she'd figured it out, and that one stupid fucking message I'd written was the only thing that was in his inbox. The message left nothing to the imagination. I'd recounted the earlier events of the day in it, leaving no doubt as to what was going on between us.

She told him she was leaving him. I was out of town. He told her they needed to work it out for their child. He emailed me.

He sent me the most heartless, cold, dismissing email I'd ever received.

He spoke nothing of what we had, the love we shared, what we meant to each other - just a long, chilling message where he said he'd confessed everything to his wife, and that she meant more to him than anyone else in his life, and she wasn't worth risking for any other woman, so that we were to have no further contact. He signed it with his first and last name.

When I got that email, I read it once, turned off the computer, turned off my cell phone, and got into bed. I had a 20 minute panic attack thinking that she was going to email or call SH and tell him what had been going on, but I shoved it to the back of my mind and went to sleep. The next 6 days were void of emotion, except towards DD. She was the only thing that got a reaction out of me. Thank god SH was out of town, or who knows what would have happened if he'd asked me what was wrong.

So on the evening of that 6th day, I had put DD to bed, and was laying in bed, staring at the wall when I started to cry. I cried and cried and cried. Like someone had just killed my best friend. I cried because it was over, because I would never see him again, because she had found out. But the part that I was most distraught over was because of the way he dismissed me. Like I meant nothing to him. Like I was nothing but a lay and someone to talk to. That was the part that broke my heart.

The next day when I woke up the hurt was gone, and instead I was filled with rage. Rage for what that arrogant prick had done to my mind and heart. What kind of cold hearted bastard gets rid of his mistress of a year and half like that?

I spent that day fuming, unable to wrap my head around what had happened. But that evening I started to think...I knew this man. Really knew him. I just couldn't believe that he would kick me to the curb in such an appalling way. But as I sat there tormenting myself, it dawned on me - he had written the email for her. He had written it because she was going to read it before he sent it - to make sure he made the right point, to let me know that he wasn't mine for the taking, and to make sure I was out of his life for good.

That realization brought me right back to sadness. Because I knew that even if it was really over, deep down I knew that he would never write those things unless he had no other choice.

The night before I came back to town I turned on my cell phone. There were 6 voicemails and 12 text messages. I deleted them all without even reading them. When I got home the next day I checked my "secret" email account (he had a matching one), and there was a one line email, it read: I'm sorry. I have to talk to you. Please. I'm so sorry.

I sent back one line telling him the hours SH would be gone the next day.

He sent back: This whole things hurts me so much, it literally makes me sick to my stomach. And even though I'm supposed to be tough, I've cried - several times. I will tell you everything tomorrow. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me.

...to be continued...

The Marriage of TDH

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Today

I know I should give you more background before I get too into the day to day stuff of my life, but at this moment, all I can think of is today. Because today, TDH is spending the whole day with me. This is pretty much my definition of utter bliss.
SH is out of town for the day, and just because of his schedule, TDH has the day off - except for one meeting that he just left for. He's been here since about 8 this morning, and will have to leave late this afternoon to get home before his wife, but otherwise he's mine. He left for his meeting about 5 minutes ago, and already I miss him.
LOL - and as I type this he just sent me a text that says "Hi Katiecat, I miss you already."

On a side note, we are currently in a time period where we're not having sex. A few months ago we were doing it every time we saw each other for 10 minutes, but about 3 weeks ago he finally confessed that he was actually starting to feel some real guilt. Surprisingly? The guilt was due to the way he feels about the church, not because of his devotion to his wife. But that's fodder for another post.

Now I'm not sure about anyone else's situation, but in mine, spending the day together with no (or few) interruptions, is what we both love. We just go about daily life, cleaning, cooking, playing with our kids, getting groceries, or whatever. For instance, this morning he came in as I was unloading the dishwasher, and stood and watched me in appreciation as I reached up to the highest shelf in a cupboard to put some bowls away. I know the reason he liked this is because I had to stretch up onto my tiptoes, thus working my calf muscles and giving the illusion of high heels. TDH likes a lot of things about my body, but my legs are number one on his list.
When I finished, I poured him a cup of coffee, wiped down the counters, offered him one of the muffins I baked last night, and got bottles organized for DD for the day.
While I was doing all this he stood leaning against the kitchen door, sipping his coffee and repeatedly telling me how beautiful I was.
Soon DD woke up, and he came into her room with me to get her. She knows him, and instantly gave him a big grin (she's not old enough to talk yet), and laughed when he played peek-a-boo with her.
The rest of the morning was spent laying on the living room floor playing with her, him occasionally crawling over to give me a slow kiss, and us talking about anything and everything.
When it was time for her nap I laid her down and came back into the living room, but soon he was taking my hands and pulling me into my bedroom. He threw me down on the bed and was on top of me in a second.
"Why do you have to look so damn good all the time?" he breathed in my ear.
I am always surprised when he says this, because half the time I dress in whatever is close to me. Today I'm wearing a pair of black short shorts and a tank top (pretty much my standard when I'm at home), with a chocolate brown lace bra peeking out of the top. Not exactly what you might call a sexy outfit. The fact that I had a shower and didn't brush my hair? Apparently a turn on because it's dried into a wild mess of waves - he's been pulling on it all day.
The fact that we're not having sex at the moment is almost more of a turn on than anything. Apparently we're allowed anything but sex right now - the man needs to re-evaluate his rules, I know - so soon he's completely naked, and I'm refusing to take anything off, just to tease him further. Good God, this man is utterly gorgeous in his nakedness. And because in comparison to him I am quite little (which he also loves) he has a good time pushing me around on the bed. I must confess, I love being his little rag-doll.
This afternoon will be spent playing more with DD, more of him and I playing in the bedroom, him helping me start dinner (which will actually be for SH and I - how weird is that?), and eventually saying goodbye.
This is how I know that things are getting dangerous. When it's not just about the hotness of meeting up somewhere for a quick fuck, or to steal an hour or two for coffee, but instead spending hours together, essentially playing house. What makes it even harder is because he keeps saying to me "Why do you not have my last name? Why does fate play so dirty?"
All I can do is tell him that I don't know - I wish things were different...and therein lies the danger. I really do wish things were different.

The Marriage

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How He and I Became "Us" - Part 3

Five minutes after he left that day, he was texting me. We were both in shock. Had that really just happened?!? I asked him how he was feeling about the whole thing. Surprisingly he said he felt okay about it, so far he didn't feel guilty. I was amazed to find that I didn't either. In fact, I wanted more. More of him touching me, fucking me, and wanting me.
Besides the physical attraction to him, I began to realize how deeply I actually felt for him. It wasn't love yet, but the highest level of respect, an indescribable feeling of wanting to always be around him, a desire to learn more about him, and the way his mind worked.
We began going on "dates" after work or during lunch hours. Most of the time our dates consisted of going to a coffee house and talking. We could talk non-stop about anything. Though we would sometimes steal away to a dark corner for a quick kiss, or to tease each other over our clothes, half the time it wasn't about sex at all. It was just a hunger to know more about each other. We would discuss religion, politics, work, music, our hobbies, our fears, passions; it seemed there was no end to what we could talk about.
Over those several months after we first had sex, it only happened a dozen or so more times. And somewhere in there he told me what we were doing had to stop. He confessed that though he wasn't feeling guilty about what we were doing, he was feeling guilty about not feeling guilty, since he knew what we were doing was wrong.
He said he still wanted to see each other outside of work, go for coffee and that sort of thing, but the sex and other physical inappropriateness had to stop. I remember the sinking feeling in my chest, but at that point being more or less alright with it, because getting to be with him, even in a platonic way, made me incredibly happy.
Over the next month we continued our little charade of being "just friends", though occasionally he would slip up and end up pinning me against the wall in my office to kiss me, or pushing my hair back to bite my neck while I sat at my desk. But I never initiated anything - I didn't want to be able to be blamed for him doing something he would regret. He would kid me that it was my fault anyways though, for being too sexy, or smelling too good.
I can't remember exactly what happened, but one day when we were out together he gave me this look, and suddenly we were kissing, our hands were all over each other, and it was as though we never took our "break." I began driving him home every night after work, and each trip in the car would turn into roving hands, roving mouths, pulling onto the side of the road to claw at each other, him getting out of the car just down the street from his house, both of us breathless and flushed.
Then again, a few months later, he came into my office and closed the door. He looked nervous, and sat on the edge of my desk, facing me. He cast his eyes down and told me that once again, he felt this needed to stop, it just wasn't right. As I processed that information I decided spill something I'd been keeping in for several months. I was pregnant. By SH*. And that I understood that it had to end, especially now with me carrying a child.
The thing was, the only reason I hadn't told him yet was because I didn't want it to end. I was trying to keep it to myself as long as possible, until it was going to become physically obvious I was pregnant, and then end it on a sweet note. Delusional I know. A sweet way to end an affair, when you've been keeping the fact that you were pregnant a secret for so many months?
But when I told him about the baby, his face went from shock, to surprise, to happiness in about 5 seconds. He was genuinely happy for me, but I believe he was also secretly relieved that now there was another reason to end our affair.
So, we went awhile again being "just friends" before Bang! We were on again...and now, two years later, the cycle continues still...



*SH - sweet husband

How He and I Became "Us" - Part 2

After that first night, and the subsequent emails that followed in the morning, the flirt was on. Suddenly every meeting we were locking eyes, delivering coy smiles, and playing footsie under the boardroom table. Every move I made while in his line of sight was done with the intention of getting him to notice, every outfit I picked out was with him in mind, every time he was near me he took the opportunity to bump into me, flash me his sexy grin, or call me into his office for help on a project, when he needed no help at all.
Those first few months were filled with so many dirty emails and text messages that I lost count. But in person we were much slower with our actions, remaining fairly shy around each other besides the occasional "accidental" touch or eye lock that was enough to make my knees buckle.
I remember the first day he actually touched me in an inappropriate way. We had been emailing back and forth all morning, when he began telling me that I should come down to his office, walk around the back of his desk so I could see his screen, and "help him" with a project he was working on. He said he wanted to touch my thigh. I told him I'd think about it.
Five minutes later I walked down to his office and asked him what I could do for him. He smiled and said "Come over here and tell me what you think of these numbers," then pushed himself back just a little, so I could wedge myself in between him and his desk to look at his screen.
I remember my heart was beating so fast, and being terrified, and asking myself just what the hell I was doing. But I walked around to him anyways, put my palms down on his desk, and bent at the waist to look at his screen. I remember the warmth of his hand touching the inside of my leg just above my knee, and my eyes closing briefly at how good it felt. He slid his hand slowly up my thigh, then grazed his fingers across the crotch of my pants just once, before sliding his hand back down my leg, and then pulling away.
I looked back at him while he stared back at me with a grin on his face, then I said "I like what you've done here, let me know when it's complete and I'll come back for another look." Then I walked out of his office, back down the hall, and sat down at my desk trembling. Holy hell. Did that just happen? Had another man just touched me like that?
From that moment on things progressed a little more every day. Soon he was touching me all over, then he was guiding my hands to his belt, coaxing me with his eyes to slip my hand inside. We began going for lunch together every day, and I would come in to work early, and he would stay late, just so we could see each other longer.
When we weren't talking about sex, we were still great friends, talking about our marriages, our spouses, things happening in our lives at the moment, details of our lives before we met each other. He is actually a christian, very set in his beliefs, attends church every week, has a strong sense of right and wrong.
You may wonder then, how he ever let himself get into this situation with me. I have often asked myself the same thing - but the only answer I can give you is the one I have to give about myself. For some insane, ridiculous reason, neither of us felt any guilt. I have no idea how that's possible, especially with me being raised Catholic, but it's true.
The other thing is, we had discussed many times that what we were doing was just having a bit of fun. We had said that no matter what happened, the end result would never be sex. We were just messing around, and both of us felt that sex was going too far. Odd to claim to have morals when you're allowing yourself everything but sex, but that's the way we felt.
So as time went on, we went a little farther, and a little farther, until really, the only thing that was left to do was to have sex. So we did it. In the office, right before he left for the day. It was quick and dirty - me up on a desk in a cubicle, my skirt shoved up, my legs around his waist, and him fucking me fast and furious.
When it was over he kissed me, and we calmly walked back to our offices, then he packed up and left. I remember watching him from my office window, walking to his vehicle, thinking that it would probably be over now, because I was sure the guilt of what we had just done would eat at us both...

How He and I Became "Us" - Part 1

TDH* and I met almost 4 years ago when I started a new job working in his office. As I was being introduced to everyone, I remember my gaze lingering on him a split second longer than on everyone else, and the immediate mental note I made of his very obvious sex appeal.
Standing over 6' with dark hair, dark eyes, broad shoulders, narrow waist, and some of the most beautiful lips I have ever seen, it was hard not to stare. Truth be told, he's such an incredibly good looking man that I figured he wouldn't look twice at me.
As the months went by we became great friends, and as far as I can remember there was no flirtation, just good old-fashioned getting to know each other. We found that we had a lot in common. We made each other laugh. He was incredibly smart. We shared many of the same interests. But at that point in time I was harbouring no feelings of love or lust beyond silently acknowledging how attractive he was in every sense of the word.
Late in 2006 I was involved in a very tragic accident - lives were lost, hearts were broken, my life changed forever.
When I came back to work after the accident I threw myself into my work. I began coming in early, staying late, taking hours of work home every night, and coming into the office on weekends - in hindsight I suppose that was my way of coping. I was just living to live, and struggling to deal with everything that had happened.
Then one evening everything changed.
It was January and inhumanely cold outside. I had walked out to my car after work, and was sitting inside waiting for it to warm up when I decided to text TDH to kill some time. He responded immediately with a "Hi Kate!" But then somehow, over the course of the next 15 minutes, our texts somehow shifted from "Holy crap, I'm freezing to death!" to his responses of "If I was there I'd have you out of your clothes and warmed up in no time, and this is how I'd do it..."
Those text messages continued throughout my drive home, and later that evening when our spouses were both in bed, we continued our conversation online over messenger. The conversation was highly sexual and I remember blushing at some of the things I confessed, and some of the things he told me about. It was exhilarating.
The next day when I walked into the office we smiled at each other shyly, but he stayed in his office while I made my way to mine. A few moments later I was settling myself in for the day when I turned on my computer and immediately my inbox dinging with the usual 70 emails, when the most recent one caught my eye. It was from TDH, and it took my breath away...



*TDH - tall, dark, and handsome

A Little Bit of Background

Let's just lay some things down, right off the start, shall we?

1. I've been involved in this affair for 2 years.
2. Had no intention of getting involved with anyone besides my husband.
3. I'm struggling in my own marriage.
4. Have fallen completely, head over heels for the other man - TDH.
5. He's married with a child as well.
6. I feel absolutely no guilt.
7. This is remarkably odd, since I'm supposed to be a "good, Catholic girl."
8. I think about him morning, noon, and night.
9. This is getting dangerous.
10. I know it, but I can't help it.