B.’s email to me dated 12/16/2009, 5:46 am:
“In the early morning, I would pull you close, cup your breasts into my hands, slowly run the tips of my fingers across your nipples, nestle my head into your neck, press my cock tight against your ass and blissfully go back to sleep knowing that we would soon be up for a day that would begin in earnest with a bout of sweet love making.
“But in all likelihood, the falling back to sleep would not occur and I would gently press the tip of my cock onto the folds of your cunt and then jolt you fully awake by the force of my thrust deep into you.
“The sweet lovemaking would just have to wait until later.
There are just too many of this type of erotic, even pornographic, emails from B. to me (and from me to him) to count amongst the over 8000 I have saved from our 20-plus years together. Many are MUCH more graphic than the above.
As I look them over, though, I notice a consistent theme. His emails pinpoint the ultimate narcissist’s M.O.: You are mine to do with what I want. You are just a plaything. I own you. I will take you the way I want to, when I want to. You are powerless.
All these emails, some ostensibly loving, some downright XXX-rated…….was B. playing Truth Or Dare? Emails that once thrilled and titillated me now baffle me: were his loving, erotic words truthful, heartfelt? Or were they daring me, stringing me along so that I would continue to supply him the succor, strength and sex that he so badly needed?
A long time ago, B. sent me an email with a link to and lyrics of Death Cab For Cutie’s song, “I Will Possess Your Love.” I should have gotten the message right then and there. Truth or Dare? Truth or Dare?
A former mistress (26 years, on-and-off) describes the good, the bad, and the ugly of her long-term affair. Conclusion: Affairs aren't necessarily destructive if kept in the correct perspective. Our experience enhanced BOTH our marriages.
That is, until his marriage ended and we began to love each other. When the affair morphed into a relationship, well, that's when it stopped being fun for me. We have now irrevocably split.
Lately I've been writing about the man who took his place in the "off" years of that 26-year-long affair. He was a dynamic sexual partner but we, too, now have irrevocably split.
These are our stories.