My name is John, and I'm an alcoholic. I lead with that because my sobriety is the reason I am writing this and posting it here on this erotic story site for you to read. This is my way of admitting to God and to an another human being (that's you, dear reader) the exact nature of a wrong; a wrong which, in this case, took the form of marital infidelity. That's right, me, a 23 years sober happily married man, cheated on the wife I Iove and just need to say it all out loud to someone.
Here goes nothing.
A musician sometimes hears a call. It's like a dog whistle, but he or she is the only dog tuned in. I recently heard it after several years of silence and started writing a bunch of new songs, then booking a bunch of local shows, then trying a few road gigs, including a no-stress acoustic thing at a place called 49 West in Annapolis. Did I book the show because I knew she might be there? Quite possibly.
On a drizzly, cool Tuesday evening in early December, I just made it to the venue in time to do a quick sound check and head directly into my set. I was relieved and pleased to see a bunch of familiar faces in the audience, people who, it turns out, had not forgotten me after all.
I smiled as I noticed them but there was really only one attendee I was actively hoping to see: Sarah, a woman I'd met twenty some years before when she waitressed at a club my band played and with whom I had recently reconnected via social media. Did I mention that Sarah is beautiful? She is a smoldering combo of old fashioned movie queen and modern day porn star.
She wore a blue dress with leggings and a jean jacket which was dappled with rain. Our eyes locked as she sat and I sang, a smile of hello conveyed in a passing moment. I'd glance at her periodically through the set which went incredibly well. By the time I wrapped it up, I had that buzz that comes from pure musical connection.
Afterwards, I sold merchandise and made small talk and was happy to see that when the dust settled, she was still there, sitting alone, waiting for me. With my gear packed and ready, I joined her. She stood and we shared a nice, long embrace, then sat.
"God, you look good," I said sincerely.
"You too," she beamed. "And that was a killer set. For real. Your new songs crushed."
"Feels so good doing this again."
"Where do you go next?"
"New York City. Playing there and meeting with my old manager."
From there we sprang into the free friend dialogue we'd developed in our messaging over recent months...though danced around the less traditional detours we'd taken. We talked about kids, her work, my music, and a dozen other things until we found ourselves the last ones in the place.
"Where are you staying?" she asked.
"I was just going to find a place on the road somewhere."
"Absolutely not," she declared. "My boys are with their dad this week. You can crash with me."
"Are you sure?"
"Totally sure."
She stood and led the way outside, pointed out her car, and waited for me to bring mine around and follow. Within minutes I was carrying my backpack and guitar into her house.
"Nice, Sarah," I said as I took in the look and feel of her home.
"Thanks. I like to decorate."
"I can see that. You're good."
The living room blurred into the dining room which blurred into the kitchen, all one, nice, warm, open space. She grabbed wine and water and joined me at a small, circular table.
"Is this where you work?" I asked, nodding toward the opened laptop which she promptly pushed aside.
"Usually."
A new electricity surrounded us now that we were hidden from the world. We both seemed to enjoy it even as we became more self-conscious.
"Sorry for how crazy I got with my messaging a while back," I finally offered. "I hated how I intruded on your time with your kids."
Our cyber conversation had recently turned sexual at one point and I had brief trouble not being openly obsessive as I peppered her with questions and fantasies. I corrected my course and reclaimed perspective but felt some lingering remorse. It was also a way to steer the talk to things forbidden.
"It's really okay," she replied. "Seriously. I get it, and I liked it, which was kind of the problem. I was losing my focus and I really can't afford to do that."
A pause followed.
