It was a cold winter morning as the sun rose behind my back. Once again, I was driving a 130-mile stretch of interstate that I had come to know like the back of my hand.
Four years ago, my wife had asked that we move to a place closer to family and friends. I was reluctant to give up my current job, so we reached a compromise. I obtained permission from my employer to work off site. To avoid losing motivation, I would make a trip back to my employer's headquarters for a two-day stay, once every two weeks.
The two-hour and ten minute trip wore heavy on me, but not nearly as heavy as my wife's neglect of our sexual relationship. While it was true that her libido never had been strong, it was almost unbearable.
It was over six months since we had engaged in intercourse to completion. Granted, pregnancy can take its toll, but she didn't even seem to be concerned that I might have some wants. But even prior to the pregnancy, the frequency was less than once a month.
Looking back over the history of our marriage, I was resentful that I had bought so many pieces of conventional wisdom hook, line, and sinker.
I went through joint and individual counseling. I tried being more sensitive to her needs outside the bedroom. I gave her space, trying not to pressure her over sex. I went on medication. I helped her with the task of raising our first child to the detriment of my own professional productivity. The frequency only dwindled.
One of her friends said that things would improve once she turned 30 because she would be entering her sexual prime. That was a load of bull. Another said that her drive would perk up during the second trimester of her pregnancy -- more worthless wisdom. Both points were now moot. Some premature contractions persuaded her OB/GYN to put her on a sex embargo for the rest of the pregnancy.
I was burning out quickly, and I could see the breaking point coming soon. I was fed up with having to get up early with our child while she slept in. I resented the fact that she spent hours on the phone every day with her best friend and her mom. When she wanted to talk to me it was about one of three things: 1) What chores she wanted me to do for her; 2) What she wanted to buy; 3) What she saw as my inadequacies.
Part of me wanted to be free of the desperation. My conscience wouldn't let me think of leaving the marriage -- not with an 18-month-old and another one on the way.
It was at this point that I chose to strike a moral compromise. Perhaps there was another woman out there who was in a situation that mirrored my own -- married to a spouse with no drive, yet bound by a sense of responsibility to stay in the marriage.
Recently, I took my chances posting a profile on an adult dating website, and after a few weeks, I got a lead. A woman who lived in the area where I traveled was looking for a paramour of her own to spend some stolen moments, and she responded to a virtual wink that I had sent her. She was about twelve years my senior, but I preferred a decisive maturity over rambunctious youth. I had a gut feeling that she would be perfect for me.
We exchanged instant messenger handles, and soon we were chatting, getting to know one another. Our comfort levels grew, and our willingness to meet in person overcame our fear of the unknown. The holidays put a damper on near term plans, so we decided to meet up sometime after the New Year.
And so I was making my trip with two-fold agenda. I would spend my days laboring in the office and meeting with colleagues, and the evening in between would be spent meeting my new made acquaintance -- Tina.
All I had to go on was a picture of her face. Apparently she was modest about sharing her body with the rest of the world via the Internet. I could tell from our chats that she was worried over whether I would find her body attractive. I assured her that I preferred full-figured women and didn't buy into the ideal image of a woman put forth by the media.
She had a round face framed by a thick, straight flows of dirty blonder hair, parted at the center. Her eyebrows were neatly trimmed such that her facial expressions carried a built in look of curiosity. Her lips wore a deep shade of rose-red lipstick that contrasted with the chilly blue of her eyes.
To keep things safe, we met on neutral territory, a local restaurant with tall booths to avoid being seen. We agreed to arrive separately. I showed up first and was seated at our table. Then she arrived and was seated soon thereafter.
I could not have prepared myself for Tina's raw allure. She wore a somewhat snug-fitting dress that accentuated the fullness of her feminine from. Her ample bust and hips joined by a curvaceous waist. She was the visual fulfillment of my most torrid dreams.
The conversation lacked the awkwardness of a blind date as we had spent many an hour becoming acquainted via pure textual communication. To keep things moving smoothly, we shared a couple of glasses of wine to chase away the lingering guilt. Her husband was away on vacation with his friends for the rest of the week, so tonight was ours.
The dining and discussion was enjoyable as we opened up about our longings beyond those of the flesh. She, too, had made sacrifices to keep her husband happy and was feeling as if her husband took her for granted.
With the dining behind us, I paid the check and followed her a few steps behind. She got into her car, and I into mine, and we followed her to her house. It was a beautiful, home out in the country far from the prying eyes of neighbors.
