Too short, and yet...

It had been over two weeks since A and I were able to get together, and longer than that since we had been able to make love. Today we had only about two and a half hours, and I had no intention of letting that time go to waste. Where can you go when you have only a short time? The hot tubs.

They gave us room number 3, which we have had before. The radio in that room works a little better than most, and we need that because it is closer to the front and A is not quiet. As soon as the door closed behind us, we were in each other's arms, tearing at each other's clothing.

Although she my age, A is much more flexible than I am. She will gleefully allow her body to be folded and bent in ways that would have me screaming in agony. And I don't quite understand how she manages her favorite position, which is on top. Her knees are not touching the bed, and she is not pushing off with her hands, so I am not sure what muscles she is using to lift herself like that.

As it had been weeks since we had the opportunity for intimacy, and I finally feel I am back to my normal energy level after having been sick a couple of weeks ago, the entire hour and a half we had in our little room was spent in a frantic attempt to catch up. No, it was not enough, but so much better than the alternative.

We stopped for a bite to eat after, at a little bakery that A had spotted on the drive over. Then I dropped her off at her car and we went our separate ways.

We tried to connect online after, but only ended up exchanging emails. But we each had the same thing to say to each other, and that is this. It was not enough, and still, upon our returning home, somehow, everything was just a little bit easier. Life is not perfect now, but some things are little more bearable than they were before. We have been replenished, and reminded that we are there for each other.

I know that I cannot count on A being here for me whenever I want her. But I know that she will be there when she can. And that is enough.

Tech Support

I have a web enabled phone (not a blackberry) and I have been thinking about using that for a some of the private chats I have with A and with T. Especially when I need to reach one of them, and I know that calling is not a good idea. And at work. They are tightening the screws a little at work, and having an alternative way to chat would be helpful.

But I have questions. Can I use browser based chat, or do I have to download software? I find the idea of downloading a little worrisome, as my wife and I occasionally borrow each other's phone. I would prefer not having to explain why I am using chat software that is different from what we use to talk to other family members.

Then there is the question of what gets stored on the phone. Do my user id's get saved? I chat with T on yahoo, and A on gmail, neither of which are the software the family uses. I have always avoided leaving a trail on my phone. If she picked up my phone and pushed the wrong button, could she end up chatting with A?

I'm sure a lot of this varies from carrier to carrier. Mine is Verizon. Can anyone out there fill in the blanks? Yes, I could get some of this reading manuals, but they are not written from the unique perspective of a guy trying to cover his tracks.

Reunion Part II

At one point, T asked me if I was happy. I said yes, which was true. Feeling her warm, voluptuous body against mine, caressing her as she lay beside me, I could imagine that moment lasting forever. I loved her almost from the moment we met. And as I was saying that, I was also thinking to myself, that I am so screwed.

I met and fell in love with T relatively quickly. I was drawn to her in a way I had not felt in a very long time. We touched something in each other, saw each other, in a way other people do not. When I touch her, T can feel through my hand what I feel for her, what she calls my intentions.

In the time we were apart, I met A. The feelings I had for A started as passion and desire but grew into caring and love.

So the reality is, I want them both, I love them both. My feelings for them are not the same. A disinterested third party might analyze my feelings and say I couldn't possibly call both of them love, when they are so different from each other.

I have always been a jealous sort, but those feelings just do not exist around T. I know she has another lover, and I really hope that he gives her happiness. If she falls in love with someone else, while it might (and I am not sure about that) end our sexual relationship, it will not end the connection that exists between us. When we met, I knew her. I know who she is and I find that person to be beautiful on every level.

The relationship I have with A is more conventional, if any affair can be considered conventional. I know she struggled for a while with the desire to cling, to essentially place me in the spot in her mind that her husband used to occupy. But she is constantly changing, growing. There is a word for lover in Spanish, Querida, which is not the word you would use for a wife or fiance, but for a relationship that is a more sordid, illicit. Three months ago, that word made her uncomfortable, and now she uses the male version, Querido, with me. It is no longer a shameful word for her, but an exciting one.

For most of my life, I have lived an existence of serial monogamy. There was a brief period in my life when I was single, and dating several women at the same time, and a few months when I lived with two women, but those two periods together encompass no more than a year in my life. When I was in the best shape of my life I was not what anyone would consider exceptionally handsome, and I am worse for the wear now.

What I am getting at, is that this is not something I expected. I didn't plan it this way, would not have even tried to plan something like this.

But I'm hooked now. On both of them.

Reunion

On the table was a pizza. I had opened a bottle of wine, and removed the plastic wrap from a box of chocolate covered cherries I had found at a little boutique chocolate store in the city. I didn't know quite what to do with myself while I waited for her to arrive.

Leaving to door to the room open, I stepped out outside, so I could look down over the parking lot. She saw me as she pulled in, parking her car in the space right next to mine. I met her at the top of the stairs, and showed her to our room.

She was apologetic about taking so long, and I tried to reassure her, let her know that I understood that she had come as quickly as she could. It was so hard to contain my nervousness, my excitement, that putting her at ease was a welcome distraction.

I tried to be the good host, pouring her some wine, offering her something to eat, but that veneer was quickly stripped away. Even as quickly her clothing melted away, and we tumbled into the bed. She had worn no bra, no panties, not even socks. The hunger in her kisses matched mine.

We had only about two and a half hours. We alternated between passionate lovemaking and just holding each other, sometimes talking, sometimes not. I was sick a week ago, and my energy level is still not back where it usually is, so I am sure that made it more sedate than it might have been otherwise.

At one point, T asked me if I was happy. I said yes, which was true. Feeling her warm, voluptuous body against mine, caressing her as she lay beside me, I could imagine that moment lasting forever. I had loved her almost from the moment we met.

I wish I had been able to linger. I would have loved to lay under the covers, my arms around her, caressing her, draining the stress from her body, feeling her drifting off to sleep. But I had to go, so it ended with me rushing around a bit, showering off her scent, that I would have loved to take to bed with me, and a hasty kiss goodbye in the parking lot before we drove our separate ways.

Not the sort of confirmation I was looking for

In my last post, I speculated that the very act of having an affair, of having to lie to keep from getting caught, could be making everything at home worse.

Over the weekend I had a big fight with my wife. I really hate fighting. Perhaps if I did more of it, we would communicate better. But as it is, I try to get along, to not rise to the bait when goaded. And then sometimes, I just cannot contain it any more.

No I don't get violent or anything like that, I just lose my temper. But I hate it. And when I lose my temper it seems like I become less coherent, and it makes arguing pretty futile, because I can't think clearly.

But one thing my wife said struck me. She said that over the last year I had become more distant.

Over the years I thought that she had I had settled into a sort of equilibrium. There were things we talked about, and things we did not, things we do together, things we don't. Not perfect, but better than any of the alternatives I could envision.

I have written about this before. I love my wife, I don't want my marriage to end, but I need physical contact. Intellectually knowing I am loved is not enough. So I return to the same thoughts.

The behaviors that are the necessity of any clandestine affair, do those in an of themselves cause me to push her even farther away? Do they cause me to close down to her even more? Is this just the way it works, that if you start on this path you begin inching away from your spouse, regardless of your intentions?

I have returned never from a casino rich, but I still go back. Deep inside I believe that I can beat the odds. We shall see.