Soon after Ray ended our “relationship” my husband left on a business trip for several days. I found myself alone and with plenty of time to think about the current state of my life. I missed Ray, but I also missed John. I was miserable without them. I decided that it would be in the best interest of my family go along with Ray’s idea and not let things go any further. I didn’t want Ray out of my life completely but I thought it best to stick to trying to make my marriage work.

After a couple of weeks of no communication at all with Ray I made the mistake of sending him a nasty email. This nasty email wasn’t one of our usual “nasty” emails, it was just me being nasty to him. I was so angry at him for putting an end to our affair after he had promised me that we could be together till we could BOTH decide what would happen next. I did not like it one bit that Ray had gone ahead and made a major decision for me. I was hurt that he had ended what we had, something that I had thought was special to both of us with a simple phone call, he couldn’t even end it face to face.  I angrily called him on his selfish behavior and reminded him of everything I had been sacrificing in order to be with him. I don’t know what I thought sending that email would resolve. I received a response from Ray where he was semi-apologetic and he confessed that he had abruptly ended things because his girlfriend had found an (innocent) email from me and he found himself in deep shit. He told me again that he could no longer talk to me unless it was work related. I continued to be hurt and angry at him, but I didn’t reach out to him any further. I didn’t regret sending him the nasty email, it was my version of closure I suppose given that when he broke things off I was too shocked to say anything to him. I realize that a lot of these thoughts may seem very selfish and hypocritical of me, but

Nearly 2 months passed and we hadn’t seen each other or spoken (despite the fact that he had tried calling me several times but I just ignored him) and then I found myself having to contact him for a work related issue. I decided to email him cause I was not ready to hear that voice. We emailed back and forth about work several times and did end up speaking over the phone but we kept it general and business-like, well I did. Ray began telling me over and over how much he missed having me in his life. I kept my distance, still recovering from Ray’s betrayal but it was getting harder and harder to stay away from him.

One day he told me that he would be gone for a week and that we’d talk as soon as he returned. I went about my life but I couldn’t get Ray completely out of my head. As much as I didn’t want to think of him, I couldn’t help it. I looked forward to his return so we could talk and figure out what would happen next. On the day he was scheduled to return I sent him an email welcoming him back, I anxiously awaited his reply. I hoped he would tell me how much he’d thought about me and missed me while he was gone, but instead he told me he’d gotten married. MARRIED.





Ray brought out a new side of me as far as sex was concerned. He had recently read the 50 Shades of Grey Trilogy and he was dying to try out all the things he’d read about on me.  We didn’t get to see each other regularly so when we had to go many days without seeing each other, we would make up for it with some phone sex or dirty emails. This behavior was very unlike me, but I was really enjoying this new version of myself. Having this little adventure on the side was great for my self esteem and it definitely made me forget my frustrating home life. My feelings of being happy and in a good mood despite my husband’s overbearing ways could only be contributed to Ray and our time together. I appreciated the fact that he cared so much about my feelings and about making me happy. He made me feel like the only woman in the world, until the day he reminded me that I wasn’t the only woman in his world when he told me that he thought we could no longer see each other. “What the fuck, Ray?” was all I could think. I abruptly came to the realization that as much as I had been telling myself that Ray was just sex and companionship, I was mistaken. What the fuck, Ray?


I don’t look forward to weekends much and it’s not even cause those are the days I don’t see or hear from Ray.

During the week I leave my house and head off to work, I get to dress up, do my job (which I’m very good at), socialize, have lunch with friends. I am in control and I get to be myself. It’s a completely different story at home. My husband (John) is under the impression that I am his 4th child. He wants a say in everything I do. I don’t remember him always being like this, I remember a time when we used to actually get along. It seems that those days are over.  

I work in a very professional setting where professional attire is a must. Skirts can’t be too short, pants can’t be too tight, cleavage is frowned upon, etc, but even so the office guidelines aren’t the only ones I have to abide by. My husband is never pleased with my wardrobe choices, they rarely pass his inspection, he has appointed himself God’s fashion police. I am only half joking when I say that maybe I should start wearing a burqa. He does not find this humorous. Big surprise.

On my way to work I turn on the radio and have a dance party for one. This is a big No-No as far as John is concerned. I am not allowed to listen to “secular” music at home or in the car if he is with me. All the indecent song lyrics are displeasing to John. And to God.  During lunch with my work friends, I go ahead and order a glass of wine, that’s something else John frowns upon. I am not a big drinker at all, but nothing tastes as good as something you’re not allowed to have. My work friends try to convince me to join them for Zumba classes during lunch time, John flatly refuses for reasons that only make sense to him and I am not allowed to Zumba. I guess the joke is on him, had I been taking Zumba classes with friends, I would not have had all that free time to do my naked workouts with Ray.

John thinks the pictures I post on my Instagram are stupid. He criticizes my need to post pictures for attention. He finds something wrong with pretty much every single picture. I don’t care what he says cause Ray likes them all.

Life at home is rough. I cannot be myself. I have to watch what I say to John during our  casual (and infrequent) conversations, if I am not careful I will get a lecture for using a “bad” word or for saying things that aren’t pleasing to God, to John, I never remember which of the 2 is more disappointed in me. When we go out with friends or family, my outfit has to pass inspection, and if I decide to order a drink John will spend all night monitoring how fast I am sipping on my (ONE) drink, waiting for me to do or say something out of character so he can say I am drunk. If he feels that I am acting “drunk” another lecture will await me at home. I am not the wife and mother he envisioned, but I am the one he picked.

I miss the days during which I was in control of myself and of my life. I am not quite sure about whether John has taken control of my life from me or if at some point I willingly handed it over, whatever the case I want it back.




I have been with my husband for half of my life. I was 17 when we started dating and 20 when we married. (He’s 10 years older than me.) I was young and perhaps a bit immature but I knew that I was in love. When I said my vows, I meant them. This was the man I wanted to grow old with and spend all the days of my life with. I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else, there was nobody better for me. And then out of nowhere, someone else came along.

I didn’t go out looking for someone to have an affair with. This is very unlike me. I am not adventurous, I am not deceitful, I am not a liar, I am a normal wife and Mom who got in way over her head and barely recognizes herself at times. This friendship began innocently enough, on my part at least, and while I did enjoy the compliments and the flirting, there was nothing inappropriate going on at first. I didn’t think of Ray “like that” but Ray says that from the moment he saw me he knew he had to be with me.

Ray & I agreed to meet up for lunch on a Friday. We decided to meet up at a restaurant that was 10 minutest away from the office. I parked and walked over to Ray’s car, waiting for him to get out but instead he told me to get in. I figured that just like other countless times before, we’d forgo the food and have one of our car make-out sessions, but Ray had other plans.

Ray drove us a couple of streets over, never telling me exactly where we were going. When he arrived and parked at a well known hotel in our city I didn’t know whether to be nervous or excited. I think I was both. Ray grabbed my hand and led me to the elevator, we went up to the 12th floor and into Room 1278, I shook the whole way there. I don’t think I realized at that moment that there would be no turning back from this moment. I could no longer call what we had innocent, those days were over. I was minutes away from allowing myself to enter into a full blown affair. Life as I’d known it was over, the images of this day would replay in my head for the rest of my life, whether I wanted them to or not. I could’ve walked out, I could’ve said no, I should’ve said “I don’t want to do this” but I knew that was not true and he knew that was not true so I stayed and had the glass of wine Ray offered me.

Once inside the room, Ray began to kiss me and proceeded to remove all my clothes. He removed his tie and blindfolded me with it. I was just about to start freaking the hell out when I felt him pouring wine on my neck and chest. I was going to make a joke and tell Ray he had been reading too much 50 Shades of Grey, but when I felt his warm body on mine and his hands starting to explore I forgot what I was going to say. I forgot everything.

We made the most of our time together. Ray made sure I would not soon forget our first time together. We were relaxing in each other’s arms, ready to go for round 3 when his phone started to ring. First we pretended not to hear it, then we just ignored it, we didn’t want our time to be over. Ray finally reached over to answer the phone, from my side of the bed I could hear his girlfriend yelling at him cause he was late picking her up from work. I suppose we should have hurried then, but we took our time getting dressed. I was sad to leave, and for a second I thought this would be our first and last time but it’s impossible to fool yourself, I knew there would be many more hotel room lunches in our future.







I must be honest and say that I’m pretty shocked at the kind of attention I’ve been getting for this blog. I suppose I shouldn’t be all that surprised given the hot topic. It wasn’t that long ago that I was the one judging the people having affairs. The difference was that my judgment was done from afar, I would’ve never actually confronted anyone and given them a piece of my mind, no matter how close we were. I am certain my real life friends would somewhat judge me since it’s wasn’t that long ago that we sat together in judgment of cheaters (male and female), so I turned to strangers for advice and I am getting way more than I bargained for. Good or bad, I appreciate it. I did ask for it after all.

I don’t expect people (especially ones that don’t know anything about me) to be understanding, give me the benefit of the doubt, or at the very least wait for me to go deeper into my story before they call me a whore. However, I do have a problem with people coming on to my blog and commenting on my posts, calling me a whore and wishing me ill. That’s the part that’s shocking me. How can you be such an asshole to someone you don’t even know? (You better believe though, that I will be an asshole back.) I think I am polite and receptive of critical criticism but if you’re going to be offensive, you’re going to get offensive right back, but THAT IS NOT THE POINT OF THIS BLOG.

I am the first to admit that I have a screwed up sense of humor. I suppose you can say that it’s my defense mechanism. It’s a quality that a lot of people appreciate in real life, but I guess it does not come  across the same “on paper”. I keep having to explain myself over and over and I’m done with that. This is MY blog, about MY feelings and MY experiences. Being honest does not equal bragging. Sharing experiences does not mean I don’t feel remorse. Having a sense of humor (even a screwed up one) does not mean I don’t take my actions seriously. Discussing what I’ve done and what I’ve felt at CERTAIN moments does not mean I don’t constantly battle myself over what I have done and why.

This isn’t happening because I’m whiny and selfish and I’m not getting attention from my husband. It isn’t because I miss feeling butterflies or because I don’t know what REAL love is. This is happening because I feel as if my husband has beat the crap out of me, not physically, but emotionally and verbally. I am not blaming my actions entirely on him, but his behavior towards me for the last couple of years has made it way easier for me to tune out feelings of remorse or guilt. When someone constantly belittles and finds fault with you, tears you down at every opportunity sometimes in front of family or friends it fucks with your mind. I am a smart, well-educated, successful woman and there are moments that after 15 minutes in the same room with my husband I forget all about my good qualities. I don’t care how strong you are mentally, if someone you love is constantly treating you like shit, you’re going to snap eventually and I finally snapped.

So spare me the condescending comments because you don’t know what my day to day life is like. I have complained to my husband nicely, I have complained angrily. I have argued, I have tried being sweet, I have begged, I have pleaded, I have threatened and his change doesn’t last for more than 2 weeks. I haven’t left him because as shitty as he is in the husband department, he is an excellent father. He has refused to go to counseling. I have suggested divorce on various occasions, soon after he becomes the ideal husband but that is always short-lived. Sometimes you just snap.


I made the enormous mistake of going to a popular website where people share all sorts of crazy drama and shared the link to this blog. I admit that I didn’t think it out properly and I might have possibly jumped the gun. Maybe I shouldn’t have shared it till the whole blog was complete or till I was at least half way through. I was told that I was “pimping” my blog, some people thought I was making it up, that I didn’t sound distraught enough so it was either made up or I had no heart, they said that I didn’t seem very sorry to be cheating on my husband, that I just wanted blog viewers and finally, (my personal favorite) that I was writing erotica. (I’m still laughing at that one. I’m not sure if that was a compliment or criticism.) Anyway, I digress……..

Ahhh, how easy it is to sit from behind your computer (or phone) screen, looking down your nose and pointing fingers at complete strangers.

Let me start with the obvious—I am not actually proud of the things I’ve done or of the decisions I have made. I am not looking for approval or understanding. I completely understand that most people would completely disapprove of my current situation and the choices I’ve made that have put me in this crazy situation, I can even accept the negative opinions and disapproving remarks made in a respectful way, but the disrespectful commenters can fuck off. It’s really quite simple, don’t read the blog.

I’m writing this blog first and foremost cause I want to. It’s for me to write down all my feelings, good and bad. It’s not like I can discuss this matter with people in real life. So what if I wouldn’t mind having the blog read by a few people? Isn’t that the purpose of blogging in the first place? Isn’t that the purpose of most social networking type places? Everyone has a voice that wants to be heard, if you don’t want to hear mine, that’s fine. No hard feelings. Goodbye & have a nice day.

My favorite comments are the ones that tell me that you could NEVER do this. Let me tell you that 2 years back I was pretty sure I could never do this and chances are I was pretty judgmental towards those that did these kinds of things. Well, here I am doing things I couldn’t have even imagined a couple of years ago. I am not making excuses for myself, I’m just stating the facts. Shit happens. Never say never.





I’ve heard that having an affair could help improve your marriage. I always thought that was pretty ridiculous and stupid, but I’ve come to accept that maybe it’s true. 

After various “lunches” in Ray’s car where the only thing we were tasting was each other, he told me that as much as he was enjoying our frenzied and passionate lunches, it was time to kick it up a notch. (Not to mention the great risk that comes with going overboard in a car. In public. Near your place of employment.) I told him I had to think about it and needed some time. I hadn’t fully forgotten that I had a husband and various children at home whose lives could be greatly affected if I wasn’t careful. But who says no to someone whose kisses leave you in a daze? I am not a prude but this man handled my body in ways I had never experienced. He constantly left bruises on my inner thighs and I loved it. They were my souvenirs. While I never had any major complaints about my husband when it came to sex, Ray was way more adventurous and demanding. He made me feel aroused and alive. He left me shocked when he slipped his fingers inside me and then shoved them into my mouth so I could taste myself, his favorite flavor. This behavior was out of character for me, but I became a fan very quickly. And on the days we couldn’t see each other, the memories of what we done with each other, to each other played over and over in my head. My husband didn’t seem to notice that suddenly I wanted to have sex more often nor that if I seemed more into it than usual it was because I was thinking of Ray.

Between the constant telephone conversations, romantic emails, song dedications, texts and lunch time sexual activity, Ray has forgotten to tell me that he has a live-in girlfriend. I should be upset but I’m not. I figure it will make things less complicated. I tell myself that this will just be a temporary respite from my marriage, a little fling to recharge my batteries and give me the “pick me up” I desperately need before the constant arguing with my husband drives me to insanity. What do you get when you add 2 crazy people, a husband, a girlfriend and an endless amount of stupidity? No Strings Attached Sex. Where do I sign up?