Between you and me

Between you and meMy car is in the garage so I’m on the cattle train today; it’s standing room only. There’s always a look of envy on the faces of those who arrive too late to claim a seat. Those sitting, cast smug glances the late comers, proud of their temporary ownership of a seat, like little aristocrats surrounded by hordes of unhappy surfs.

It’s dangerously exciting sitting here with my little lap-top open, feeling slightly nervous about writing this blog in public. There are twice as many eyes here as there are people, and I know what I am like when someone is intent on tapping away at the keys, I have an almost overwhelming desire to have a quick sneaky look at what it is they are doing.

The man in the seat opposite is giving me that look. The woman to my left has her nose buried in a steamy, bodice-ripper; on the front cover, a half naked stud is holding a slender blonde around the waist. We all know what’s written on the pages. Shameful! I don’t for a moment suppose she’d go and do that sort of thing herself.  But one can never tell. She’s probably thinking the same thing of me.

Just between you and me, I am starting to enjoy blogging. Over the few years since by life took a turn into the sexually surreal, I have, now and then wished that I had someone with whom I could safely share my secret. But a secret shared is a secret unsafe. Two people can keep a secret, it is said, if one of them is dead. So you dear reader, is that significant someone with whom I have chosen to share the more intimate details. I will of course, take your promise to keep them to yourself, as read

I don’t know about you other adulterous ladies, but going to bed with a lover, especially the first time still causes me more than just mild trepidation. Not performance anxiety, which many think is purely a male preserve, but the anxiety caused by the insistent, strangely male sounding, judge and jury that is the voice of my own intrusive conscience.

I apologise to any men out there – my experience is entirely female, and I don’t really know what men think about when they are sliding their cocks into an un-registered vagina.
I’ve heard it said, that men don’t think, or that their cocks do all the thinking for them; but as a stiff cock only has one thought in its head, is that really thinking? Please do not feel insulted. Anyway, who am I to criticize?

I have gotten away with it so far, but what if this is the one that gives me away?
What if, in spite of all the safeguards I’ve set up to cover my tracks and camouflage my shenanigans, I’ve left a lone clue, a minute detail somewhere that is just waiting to be noticed?

What if the naked man whose lips are pulling at my labia and whose tongue is teasing my clitoris hasn’t been as careful as he promised he would be?
His downfall will be my downfall.

I don’t know about you, ladies, but that’s why all my infidelities have been with married men. Shocked? Makes me sound like a real fucking narcissistic, home wrecking bitch, doesn’t it?
In my own defence, I have to say that I never chase a man. I don’t advertise in the Adultery Times, and I am not, and never will be a member of any of the many contact and adultery websites, that are available for people who just wish to fuck and go.

Sitting back and looking at that last paragraph, it might appear that I am making myself out to be a better class of cheat. Not intended. A cheat is a cheat, no matter how you butter it.
It is very easy to think that affairs are all about the pussy and the cock; a blood filled muscle and a wet hole. How have they gotten so powerful that they can override our thoughts and ruin our lives? My law degree didn’t cover such philosophical topics, and I’ve never read Freud or Jung.
Perhaps I should.

Oops! I’ve told you a little more about myself. Should I back-space? I needn’t worry – if you throw a stone in this city of sin, you’ll hit a dozen people with a law degree. Even my favourite bar-person, I have discovered, is a second year law student. Imagine that.

More to say…..…but later. It is no longer safe to continue. I think the lady to my left is trying to get a sneaky peak. Bitch!

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