Lunch with Mark

After that Christmas party, I never did plan to see Mark again. I figured I would have the baby and that would be that. There was no reason for anyone to know the truth.

In March I received a call out of the blue from Mark. He said that he heard that I was pregnant and he wondered if the baby might be his. I coldly told him No and that he was to never call me again. I hung up the phone before he could respond. I did not want that man back in my life.

A week later I received a certified letter. The letter said that his lawyers would demand a DNA test. And if the child was his, he would sue to have visitation rights. My hands were trembling after I read the letter. I could not believe that he would go through with something like this.

I called his office and we talked. I asked him if he had not already done enough to hurt me. And why couldn’t he leave me alone. He told me he wanted to meet to discuss things. I told him I didn’t trust him. So he suggested that we meet for lunch in public at his exclusive country club. I agreed.

I agreed because I wanted to confront him about that night. I had so much anger. And I also planned to tell him that he should be thanking his lucky stars that I am not naming him as the father. I doubt Lisa would be thrilled to learn of the child support he would need to pay me.

When I arrived at the club, I had second thoughts. The place was fancy and I felt out of my element.

He was not there when I arrived, so I sat looking at the menu and drinking the water for 20 minutes. I felt foolish as if I had been stood up. And then I saw him headed in my direction. He was so tall that he was quite the sight in his suit. And he walked in an arrogant manner as if he owned the place. I could see that other people were secretly glancing at him.

He smiled at me and sat down. I noticed that I was all flustered. I had planned to frown and launch into him. But now I was also just smiling like a fool. I quickly regained my composure and scowled at him. I had a whole speech memorized. And I was ready to rip him to shreds.

I told him not to speak until I said my mind. I told him he was a horrible man and I hated him. And he was lucky I didn’t have him thrown in jail. And he better stop any idea of demanding a DNA test, or I would do everything in my power to destroy him. And he should just be thankful that I am not asking him for child support.

During my entire speech he just sat there looking vaguely amused. That made me even angrier. He asked me if I was done and he started to talk.

He told me that I was beautiful. And from the very first day he saw me he felt as if we had a mystical connection between us. He said that he was thrilled that I was carry our baby, but he didn’t want to do anything to hurt me.

He then pushed an envelope to me. He said it contained instructions for a trust fund he set up for my child and me. He said no one would have no know about it except for me. I pushed it back and told him I did not want his money. I only wanted him out of my life.

He said that was my choice. But if I refused to keep him involve, he would take legal action which would force his rights as a father. He said he realized that would cost his marriage and child support. He reminded me that such an action would be very public and it would hurt Jeff and probably destroy my family. Not to mention it would probably cost me my job teaching at the Christian school. He told me that I had up to the time the baby was born to make my decision. And then he would file the legal action.

I hated the man. I wanted to kill him. Then he leaned over and kissed me. And he walked away.

My panties were soaked.

Sex with my husband

So I had sex with my husband last night. And I know that must sound like a “big deal” type of statement. But here is the kicker – is has been over two years since I last had sex with my husband.

After that night I had sex with Mark, I just always seemed to find an excuse not to have sex with Jeff. That first month I was too sore with my broken wrist. And then once I found I was carrying Mark’s baby, I didn’t want Jeff inside me. It just seemed wrong on some level I can’t explain.

Jeff was sweet and always understanding when I told him I did not feel in the mood for sex. I told him the pregnancy was hurting my sexual desire. And that was good enough for him.

Then after my baby was born, I told him it would take awhile for me to recover. Well, months past and I was still not in the mood.

The real problem was that I was having sex with Mark. And I just couldn’t have sex with Mark and then happily have sex with my husband. My body froze at the thought. And whenever Jeff touched me I was repulsed.

I think this must be a man versus woman thing. For I know Mark was still happily having sex with Lisa during our affair. And that always bothered me that he could do that.

Anyway, since I ended the affair a week ago I have been craving sex. I thought this would be a good time to establish normal relations with my husband.

So we sent the kids to his parents last night. We had a nice romantic dinner. And I really tried to keep thoughts of Mark out of my mind.

As we drove home I was dreading thoughts of having sex with him. When we got him he started to kiss me. When his hand touched my breasts my body tensed. I just wanted to end this quick. I quickly undressed him and myself. I pulled him down on top of me and I guided his penis into me. Thankfully, as soon as he entered me he ejaculated.

He rolled over and went to sleep. I jumped in the shower. Then I went on the computer and surfed the web all night.

Stupid Pink Line

I hated that stupid pink horizontal pink line. It was the second morning I saw it. I was hoping that if I kept trying I would get a different result. But I already knew what my body was telling me. I was pregnant. I laughed. I was not exactly having a Bing Crosby magical Christmas.

While the other neighborhood Moms were shopping for holiday treats and decorations, I was out at the medical clinic getting tested for STDs. Not exactly the stuff Christmas songs are made of. You see, that is one of the fun things you get to do after you have unprotected sex with a man you don’t know. I did not exactly know Mark’s sexual history. But based on his behavior with me, I had to assume he has placed his penis in various vaginas around the country.

So the experience was like playing a negative lottery. Did I have herpes? Syphilis? Or how about the granddaddy of the STDs – HIV? Was I going to die?

To answer these fun questions, I got to go to a medical clinic to get tested. That is always a fun conversation to have with the receptionist -

“Yes, I would like to make an appointment to get tested for various STDs. No, I don’t know the sexual history of the man I had unprotected sex with. And Merry Christmas to you too!”

Luckily, I avoided the STD lottery. I was disease free. However, my wrist was not so fortunate. It turned out it had a hairline fracture, so I was in a put in a green cast. I choose green because I figured it was a festive color.

All I had to do was avoid pregnancy, and I would have been home free. But somehow I just knew Mark’s sperm would bash their way into my egg. Like father, like sperm.

After the initial shock, I actually had a sense of peace about everything. I figured that no one would have to know. My husband would be the real father. Did the source of the sperm really matter that much? Maybe it did, but I had no other options.

Abortion was not an option because of my beliefs. And what good would it do to tell Jeff about Mark? Would it really do anyone any good for me to bring a baby into a broken home? And I suppose it was theoretically possible the baby was biologically my husband’s. It is true that we did not have unprotected sex during the time frame, but condoms are not 100% reliable. So my best guess is that we had a defective condom and a sperm sneaked through. I told myself that story so many times that I actually began to believe it. Still I was worried to announce my pregnancy to Jeff.

“How did that happen?” asked Jeff.

“Don’t know. Must have been a defective condom. It happens.” I said.

There was a pregnant pause (sorry about the pun) as Jeff considered it.

“Wow! I am so excited!” he said.

Whew. I dodged a bullet. I felt some guilt. But then I became excited. This would be our baby.

On September 4, 2007 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Unfortunately, Mark was still in the picture. And that is the subject of another post.

Questions from a reader

I received an e-mail from a man (Peter) who had some question. As I was thinking about my reply, I thought that this might be an interesting blog post.

Question: You wrote that you never had sex before your marriage. How old were you? How was it possible for you to wait so long?

Yes, I was a virgin when I married. I was married at 22.

And, yes, I know this makes me somewhat of a freak by modern standards. However, I suppose I was able to maintain my virginity through a variety of factors. I was raised in a strict home and I attended a Christian school. As such, it was expected that a girl should wait. Of course, many of the girls I went to school with had sex. So attended such a school is not some guarantee of chastity, but I think it helps.

I also was very sheltered as a child. I was not allowed to watch TV or movies. So I had very little exposure to the mainstream culture that emphasizes sex.

I also was just not that interested in sex. I guess I was a late bloomer, my sex drive did not really kick in until I reached 30. So it wasn’t really hard for me to remain chaste for so long.

Question: I have the impression that you don´t like the fact that you had sex with another man. Right? If it´s true, is it because of your religious rules? Is it because it was the wrong man?

To be precise, I don’t like that I like to have sex with Mark. I have not shared my entire story yet, but Mark led my down a dark path.

One of the lessons I have learned from this experience is that sex can bring light or darkness, or good or evil. The dark path tempted me and I was surprised how much I compromised my self-respect and beliefs.

Question: You wrote something about guilt, but I cannot understand it.

Jeeez… where do I start? I violated the trust of my husband. I was the Other Woman to Lisa. I degraded my self-respect. I could go on all day about guilt. That is one of the reasons why I ended the relationship.


Question: You regret it. Right?

My honest answer? I actually have been regretting I ended the relationship.

The Christmas Party Finally Ends

I don’t want to turn this blog into a pity party for myself! I am actually a pretty positive person in life. And while many negative things happened to me over the past couple of years, I sometimes can’t help but to laugh at the zaniness of it all.

OK, I was left sitting on the bedroom floor with my torn pantyhose next to me. I had just been raped by my husband’s CEO. And, yet, my greatest fear at that moment was that I had been away from the party too long! I felt a tinge of horror considering the possibility that we were critically low on salsa for the chips and the ice for drinks may be gone! And I knew my dear husband would not notice such things. I had to get back downstairs immediately!

I quickly ran to the bathroom and brushed my hair quickly to try to eliminate the “just been fucked” look. Then I ran down the stairs with the coats in hand that was the reason I originally came upstairs.

Jeff look irritated as I ran down the stairs. He asked me what took me so long. I smile brightly and told him that I was sorry, but I was having sexual intercourse with a guest. Jeff rolled his eyes and told me that I need to lay off the wine.

I suppose I should give a little background. I have always had a sarcastic sense of humor. I suppose I use sarcasm as an emotional defense. Anyway, the down side (or benefit) of being sarcastic is that my husband frequently does not take me seriously.

For whatever reason, I experienced a rush of adrenaline. I was able to repress what had happened, and I concentrated on being the perfect hostess. I was a whirlwind of activity in making sure the guests had drink and food. I was not about to allow one glass to go empty while I was on watch! I also joined in the conversations and was as charming as I could be. I was strong and confident. And then Lisa joined the conversation.

As I think I mentioned in a previous post, Lisa is Mark’s wife. Although I would guess she was in her early 40s, she reminded me of the stereotypical trophy wife. She was tall, skinny (probably a size 0) and very blonde. Although I have very fair skin, her skin was even fairer than mine – almost translucent.


She wore a dress that probably cost more than my monthly salary as teacher. A diamond chocker glistened around her neck. And her wedding diamond looked was huge. Not only was she obviously rich – she had the style and manner of a woman who had always been part of the upper class. Year ago people would have used the phrase “blue blood” to describe Lisa.

As she joined our small circle of conversation, my heart started to race. I felt short and dumpy next to her. A wave of guilt and near panic overwhelmed me. My intuition told me that she just KNEW her husband had sex with me. It had no reason to logically believe that was the case. But my gut told me that she knew.

As the people around us continued the conversation, Lisa just stared at me with her green eyes. I told myself to calm down and act cool. I told myself that I was imagining things.

Then we had the following conversation. This conversation was a couple of years ago, so it may not be verbatim.

“You have a charming, little house,” said Lisa.

She was polite, but I could tell she was patronizing me. I just smiled and said thank you.

“And this was a charming little party. My husband frequently gets bored at these types of events. But I can tell that you provided him with a good time.”

My heart froze. How did she know? Her quick glance down provided me with the answer. I was no longer wearing my hose. In my hurry to get back downstairs I forgot to replace my hose. I remembered to comb my hair and touch up my makeup, but I forgot the hose. I felt like a cheap whore.

Jeff babbled something to her about how happy he was that they had a good time, and that we should do this more often. Like most men, the entire exchange went over his head.

At this point, I became physically ill. The enormity of it all overwhelmed me. I told Jeff I was sick and he would need to see everyone out. I went upstairs to our bathroom and threw up.

I started a hot shower and I sat down and cried. I was a mess! My wrist was throbbing from where Mark held it tightly against the wall. My vagina was sore.

And then the real issues hit me. Would Jeff find out and divorce me? Was Lisa going to make trouble? What was to prevent Mark from attacking me again? We had unprotected sex - did I now have a STD? Could I have HIV? Was I going to die? OMG, I was not a birth control!

I got out of the shower and tried to compose myself in the mirror. Then I noticed my butt hurt. The skin hurt on my butt and I could not understand why. I turned to look at it in the mirror and I could see it was red. Then I realized – it was burned from rubbing against the wall as Mark fucked me.

I started to giggle. And I could not stop. It wasn’t that funny, but I was giggling uncontrollably.

I put on my night T-shirt and left the bathroom headed to bed. On the bed was my dear husband wearing nothing but a blue condom. I forgot that it was Saturday. Saturday was our traditional sex night. He looked like he was trying to be seductive, but he looked ridiculous. I started to laugh. And laugh. I was laughing so hard I was also crying. I could not speak. My dear husband got mad and left in a huff to the guest bedroom.

So I was slept alone that night. My wrist was throbbing and I ached all over. I was scared. I felt dirty. I was angry at Jeff. I hated Mark. And I cried softly until I fell asleep.

That last sentence is not entirely true. But I might end this post with the last paragraph. It makes me feel better as a victim. The truth is I did cry. But then I thought of how Mark’s cock felt in me. I became obsessed with that thought. After I masturbated three times, I was finally able to find sleep. (Yeah, I will be surprised if I share this paragraph.)

Christmas Party Disaster

In December 2006 my husband asked if I would host a small Christmas party at our home for his co-workers in property accounting. At first I said no, because I hate the stress of managing such an event. My husband thinks that a successful party just magically happens. He does not understand the preparation and planning involved.

But my husband kept pleading his case saying that it would be “no big deal” because only about 10 couples would attend. We don’t have a large home, but I figured we could accommodate around 20 people if we move stuff around. So I relented and agreed to the party.

A week later, my husband dropped a bomb shell. Mark had heard about the party and he wanted to know if he could attend. It seems that Mark does this on occasion to show that he is employee friendly and is not above rubbing elbows with the rest of us.

I was horrified. How could I be responsible for planning a party that the CEO and his wife would attend? I was not sure what rich people expected at parties. Does the upper class eat chip and dip? What would I wear? Would the house be a mess?

I tried to convince Jeff to cancel the party. But he told me he was not worried and that it would be impossible to cancel anyway. I thought – sure you don’t have to worry, you are not doing anything!

I decided to have the party catered to help reduce my stress level. And when the people arrived, everything actually started out well. People seemed to be enjoying the food, drinks and Christmas music.

When Mark and Lisa arrived it changed the dynamic. I could tell that the people were trying to suck up to Mark. You know, laughing a little too hard as his lame jokes, that sort of thing. It was sickening.

Mark obviously thought he was terribly funny as he was wearing a Santa hat. His wife, Lisa, was dressed as gorgeous as usual. She was tall, blonde and thin. I am short and always had to struggle to maintain my weight. I was envious of her. She also had a coach handbag and Gucci shoes. Now I am not materialistic, but it is fun to see how the other half lives.

I always though Mark and Lisa made an odd couple. He is so outgoing and she is quiet to the point of almost being cold. I always thought of ice when I saw Lisa.

Even though I was busy making sure everyone was happy, Mark found time to speak to me through much of the party. He asked me about my career as a teacher. He asked about my kids. He really seemed like a different guy. He almost seemed charming.

It was funny, because everyone else was always trying to talk to him. And I was not that interested, but he always seemed to gravitate towards me.

Looking back on it, I must admit part of me secretly enjoyed the attention. I had always just been plain and boring Amy – teacher and mother of two kids. And now I had one of the richest and most dynamic men in the area focusing on me!

Looking back on it I regret that I did not try to cool him off. I suppose I could blame the two glasses of wine. But I felt like Cinderella. For the first time in a long time I felt beautiful and desirable. And I suppose I flirted back. I maintained eye contact and I returned his smiles. And when his eyes would glance down at my dress, it didn’t bother me. I guess I was enjoying the magical ball.

And metaphorically, midnight struck. And the magical spell ended.

As people started to leave the party, I got their coats that I had thrown on my bed upstairs. As I was retrieving the coats for a couple, I was startled to see Mark standing behind me. I had not heard him enter the room. He just stood there for a second with a mischievous grin on his face. Then he lightly closed the bedroom door.

I had not bothered to turn on the bedroom light when I entered the room. The light from the hall was enough for me to find the proper coats. But when Mark closed the door, the only light was that from the outside street lights that shone through the bedroom window. It now seemed as if I was standing in a black and white movie as everything was a shade of grey.

In retrospect I suppose I should have been frightened. But the couple of glasses of wine gave me a sense of invulnerability. And I considered Mark to be a silly flirt, but quite harmless. And, anyway, there were still 20 people downstairs. So it was not like I was alone in the house.

I fetched his and Lisa’s coat off the bed and handed it to him. As I attempted to hand him their coats, he ignored the coats and instead grasped my hands. Unit that moment I never quite internalized how tall he was. My hands felt so small within his. He looked down at me and said that he wanted to thank me for the wonderful party.

For a moment I became woozy and I lost my brave composure. In my years of marriage I had never desired another man. I was 100% committed to my husband. I loved him. He was my rock. He is the father of my children. The thought of thinking of another man in sexual terns seemed ridiculous. And, yet, now I was quite aroused.

The moment passed as I caught a glimpse of family picture on the wall behind Mark. The picture was taken the Easter prior at one of those chain photo places. My two daughters were standing in front of Jeff and me in their new Sunday dresses. We looked like such a happy family. That reminded me that what I was doing was wrong.

I regained my composure and told him that I am glad he enjoyed the party. I half-heatedly tried to break my hands free from his grasp, but he was too strong. I laughed and told him to stop being silly, people were waiting for me to bring their coats downstairs. He told me that the price of letting me go was a kiss. I remember thinking how silly such a line was. I turned my head and told him he could kiss my cheek.

He bent down and kissed my cheek. Then he kissed my lips. I would like to say that I resisted his kiss, but I didn’t. And when our tongues touched, wow, I felt as if a bolt of lightning went through my body. I had not experienced that feeling in years. I had again lost my composure and was playing with fire.

As we kissed his hands slid down my body. When I felt his hands go up my dress and touch my thighs, it was like an alarm went off. I asked myself - WHAT AM I DOING? I am a Christian mother who loves her husband. I do not do this sort of thing. Instantly, I was horrified at my actions.

I told Mark to stop. I told him that this was wrong and we needed to stop. He ignored me and pressed me against the bedroom wall.

Then a wave of fear overwhelmed me. How could I have been so stupid to let this escalate to such a level? I again told Mark to stop. I said it was no longer funny and he had to stop now. Mark responded by pulling down my pantyhose. Now I was in a panic. I struggled as hard as I could, but I was pinned against the wall. I weigh 120 pounds and I am sure he is over 200.

I thought of crying for help, but he was pressing so hard against me I was having troubles breathing. And part of me couldn’t believe that this was actually happening to me. As he lowered his pants, I started to plead with him that he didn’t want to do this.

He put his arms around me and lifted me off the floor. My back was pinned to the wall. And before I could think, I felt his penis entering me.

I was a virgin when I married Jeff. I had never known another man. So I didn’t exactly have any other point of reference. But Mark felt huge. And he was rough. It was painful. Degrading. And I had quickly started to have contractions. At first I didn’t realize I was having an orgasm. He continued to roughly penetrate me and another orgasmic wave overcame me. Then another.

I remember biting hard on his shoulder to muffle my screams. I don’t remember my thoughts at this time. I was reduced to almost a primal state. I had never in my life been in such a condition in which I literally could not think. It was like my body was on auto-pilot.

Then I felt the warmth of his semen dripping down my thigh. He sat me down on the bedroom floor. He zipped up and casually got his coat and his wife’s coat off the bed. And then he left without saying a word.

Next post… the aftermath.

How I Met Him

This post will explain how I initially met Mark, who later became my lover. (btw – I hate that term “lover”, because there was no love. But that is probably the subject of another post.)

(As with all of my posts I will be changing the names and any specific details that could identify the people involved.)

My husband works for a medium size bio-tech firm. He started with the company in the 1990s as the company was experiencing quite a bit of growth. He works in property accounting. While not a glamorous job, he has always seems to enjoy his work. It is basically the nine to five type of office job with pretty good benefits. He could probably make more money with a larger corporation, but I think he likes the family type environment on a medium size business. And that suits Jeff’s personality. He has always preferred stability over risks. I actually also share that trait.

One of the founders of the firm is Mark. My husband rarely had much contact with Mark. Mark is the CEO and my husband is more of a worker bee. However, as the firm is not that large (only a couple thousand people worldwide) most people know each other.

My only contact with Mark over the years was at various company social functions. These were typically company banquets or award ceremonies, that type of thing. People would attend with their spouses. And Mark was always there with his wife Lisa.

Mark has a reputation of being a rather flamboyant personality. (His business partner is actually the opposite in personality.) For example, at a formal charity banquet he showed up wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. People either tend to find him obnoxious or funny. My vote was always for the former. Of course, as he is the owner, most of the people laugh at his antics.

Even though Mark is married, my husband told me that he had a reputation as a ladies’ man. However, everyone always excused his behavior by saying this was all just an act and his over the top flirting was just done tongue in cheek.

So even though I was prepared for his obnoxious manner, I still was taken aback when I first met him. It was at a formal end of the quarter awards ceremony. When my husband introduced me to Mark he literally looked me up and down. And I HATE it when men do that.

Then he turned to Jeff and said that he really married out of his league. After that snide comment, he looked back at me and asked me if my breasts were real! Mind you, this was in front of my husband and 15 or so people standing around with drinks in their hands. Everyone laughed, but I was offended. I could feel myself blush and I was SO embarrassed.

I am not a prude, but I hate to be objectified in such a manner. And it was not like I was wearing a provocative dress that exposed much cleavage. But instead of treating me like a person, Mark chose to have a laugh at my expense.

After we went home, I broke down in tears. I was hurt in being treated in such a manner. But I was mostly hurt that my husband did not protect me. My husband told me that I was being silly and I needed to get over it. He also said that there was nothing he could do because Mark was the CEO.

So I initially disliked Mark and I never overcame that dislike of him. But I knew that a few times a year I would have to interact with him at various company functions, so I promised myself that I would not let his crude comments bother me. When he made some stupid comment to me, I would now laugh and make a verbal jab back at him. I gave him the nickname of “giraffe” because he looks like a giraffe. He is tall and gangly with a long neck. This nickname actually stuck and Mark thought it was funny.

So over the years, Mark would never fail to make some flirtatious comment to me. But as he did this with most of the girls, it ceased to bother me. I learned to laugh and make fun of him in return.

Did I find Mark to be attractive? No, I always thought he look ridiculous. Did I find him sexually appealing? The very thought would have made me laugh!

But then Christmas of 2006 came and everything changed. I supposed that will be the subject of my next post.

Feelings of Guilt

Wow… I have a follower! I never thought that would happen. Please excuse my rambling thoughts. This blog is mostly a journal that allows me to think through some issues.

I know this sounds cliché, but I never thought I was the type of woman ever to have an affair. My faith has always been important to me. And I suppose I am something of a freak, I actually was a virgin when I married.

My husband (I will call him Jeff) has always been everything I wanted. He is wonderful with the children. He is kind and compassionate. We never argue and he is always supportive of me. He cooks and helps me around the house. In many ways he is a dream husband. And, yet, I had this affair for over two years. What does that say about me?

The man (Mark) I had an affair with is the total opposite of my husband. He is obnoxious and mean spirited. I did not love Mark, In fact, I don’t even like Mark. In many ways I hate him. And, yet, he brought out a dark side of my sexuality that I never knew existed.

Mark was abusive emotionally and physically to me. And, yet, like an alcoholic always goes back to a drink even though he knows it will make him sick, I kept going back to Mark. In many ways I think my affair was an addiction.

Mostly I feel so much guilt. Guilt over my sweet husband. Guilt over my kids. Guilt over Mark’s wife and his kids. But mostly, I have disappointed myself. How could I ever have such low self-esteem that I would allow a man to treat me as his play thing?

Despite my relief of have ending this situation, I find that I still crave him. I hope that feeling goes away.

Free at last!

I finally ended today a destructive affair that has lasted over two years! Looking back, I can’t believe the depths I have sank over the past two years.

I doubt that anyone will read this blog. Mostly I see this as a journal to help me with my recovery. I will also look back at what happened and try to figure out where I went wrong.

My story is too long to relate in one post. I will probably share details as I re-evaluate what happened.

My thoughts are scattered. I apologize if this post seems to be a random mess.

I have experienced the range of emotions from relief to utter depression. Even though I ended it, I can’t believe that it is over. I have been crying most the day. My poor husband doesn’t know what is wrong with me.

Should I tell him the truth? Or would that just unnecessarily hurt him?

I don’t know. Those questions can wait. I just need to get through the night.