Hearing his confessions paired with my past experiences, I'll admit I became curious...could I talk to this man a few times and understand what motivates a seemingly good person to look outside their happy relationship for sexual gratification? Maybe I could recognize the signs and prevent it from happening to me? Maybe I could help him get out some debauchery so that no other Redd!t encounter was ever hot enough and he could get back on track with his wife? #slutmath and probably also #daddyissues if I am being self aware about my curiosity. God forbid a girl be a scientist.
I've never looked at a married man as a challenge or a conquest. Ick. Instead, for me, there's an ease about being around most married men. When the prospect of a romantic relationship is off the table, I find I can let my guard down and be fully myself. And with J, that was no different. I quickly forgot about my initial intentions and we talked daily about a slew of topics, both NSFW and SFW. He was interesting, funny, patient, positive, unpressured, unwaveringly supportive. For the longest time I only replied to his messages and never initiated conversations so I could tell myself he was pursuing me. He was consistent in his communication but where other men from NSFW Reddit were consistently begging for my nudes, J never asked once. We talked a lot about sexual preferences, roleplayed sexual scenarios, and shared links to hot Reddit posts. We touched ourselves while talking to each other, often. It was a way for me to channel the boundless horniness and lack of intimacy I experienced being newly and unexpectedly single. I may be naive but I truly felt like J wanted the best for me and was quick to respect the boundaries I communicated early on. He wasn't desperate and that was super attractive.
And chat, nothing made me want to be sluttier than that. I felt safe to explore my sexuality and suddenly I was the one flexing what I thought were my boundaries. I sent him partial nudes because I eventually couldn't stand him not knowing what I looked like (although for awhile it was incredibly empowering to feel sexy based on personality alone). To paint a picture for the fellow pervs reading this: I am short with an hourglass figure, huge boobs, pale skin, dark blonde hair, big green eyes, naturally full lips. Conventionally attractive to most, I think. The first time I nervously sent J a picture of my pussy -- months into talking because I had held out in fear of further intensifying our connection -- he went out to his garage and sent me a video of him cumming to it in secret. A huge load. I was hooked.
I did the same for him, using his nudes as spank inspiration often. We exchanged spicy voice notes and with a little coaxing and coaching I went from novice to intermediate. We recorded JOI for each other. I had a dream about going down on him. He recounted the night he slept with his female friend, in titillating detail, and I got off to it. I named my rabbit vibrator after him and came on it so many times, pretending it was his thick cock that was my pulsating deep in my needy little pussy. I orgasmed to the sound of his voice saying filthy things I'd never heard any other man say to me. I made him moan my name while masturbating on video and gave him horny homework assignments to satisfy his exhibitionist tendencies. He gave me tips for sex with my next partner and taught me how to pleasure an uncut cock, creating in me an innate craving for foreskin now that I know how to handle it (and truthfully because it would remind me of him). His validation and encouragement got me to post a few -- admittedly mild -- photos on NSFW Reddit and the positive public reception healed some longstanding body insecurities in a way that a private interaction has never been able to. (Anyone else bullied by their peers for developing early? Brutal.) I helped him explore kinks he'd not felt comfortable sharing with others. He grew the sexiest bush because I told him I found pubic hair hot. He kept my nudes safe.
Some of these conversations happened when his wife was in the same house. The first few times I realized that would be the tradeoff for his friendship, I cried. I felt like an awful person. But I just....got used to it for a bit. Stuffed it down and made it small. Not one negative thing was said about his wife, ever, and it was evident that despite the slutty behavior we were both exhibiting occasionally, he loved her dearly and was deeply fulfilled in their life together. I wasn't quite sure why I felt compelled to keep going. My desire to be a slut for him -- this hot, kind, married man -- just temporarily overpowered all of my values and morals. Oops.