How my life is, the situation I’m in and the risks I take with my marriage, boil down to the words he spoke to me that fateful day, ‘It’s just business,’ that’s the way I have to look at how things are now. My husband, the love of my life, knew nothing of my arrangement, the deal I made with the devil, a trade off with a man I actually dislike as a person. Yes, he’s a handsome and powerful man, but alongside that he’s arrogant, brash, conceited, and vain. He’s also my long-term lover and I suppose I must love him in some way. I certainly love what he does to me and has done for me come to that. Why did I agree to do it? Why do I keep doing it?
Years of lies, deceit and deception, all for what? Great sex, ‘yes’ definitely. The rush of adrenalin as I am dominated by my forceful lover, ‘yes’ of course. A feeling of pride that I have been able to maintain an innocent husband and family for so long, you bet. What amazes me is that I cope with it in clear conscience, in fact I revel in it, I really don’t want to stop now, its part of my life and it means so much to me.
It started so long ago, I should stress that I don’t let it affect my husband, I’ve already said he is the love of my life, he is still and always will be. My children are equally important to me although it’s my husband that does most of the work with them, the caring and nurturing, that sort of thing — I’m too busy with work you see. I love them, of course I do, and will protect them above all others, even myself. What my lover gives me is necessary, an important part of my life, but make no mistake I need my husband and family much more. If I ever have to choose there is no doubt who and what I would give up, I’d miss it, of course I would, but until then I’ll continue.
So why do I risk what is so important to me?
To explain I need to go back to my school and university days, the happy, carefree, simple days when I had my share of casual boyfriends, nothing heavy, just fun nights out usually. I’d given my virginity to my first real boyfriend towards the end of my final school year, we had fun together, the illicit sex we shared and the danger of being caught by our parents just heightened the thrill. We both knew there was no future in our relationship, we were both headed off to different universities, so when the time came we ended things between us amicably.
For the first two years at university, I didn’t want to get too serious with anyone, a few dates did end up in my bed, or theirs, but it was just fun, part of the learning process. I’d had a couple of steady boyfriends, but neither lasted more than half a term. I didn’t love either of them, they were nice guys, kind and respectful. The sex was all right, certainly nothing like I was to experience later, but I enjoyed it at the time.
All that changed with Jon, it was early in my final year when we met at a party. There was an instant attraction between us, physically he was my ideal man, he looked handsome and spoke to me as an equal, not as a potential conquest for the night’s entertainment. We danced and the way he held me made me feel as if I truly belonged there, safe in his arms. As the party drew to a close I readily agreed to a follow-up date with him.
We dated regularly and were soon exclusive, it was obvious that there was something special between us. He respected me for my intellect, accepted my drive to be the best that I could, we shared a similar sense of humour, liked each other’s company and as our relationship developed we found that we were more than compatible in bed.
He rocked my world and I think I did the same for him. He was a considerate lover and knew what turned me on so made sure my needs were met each and every time we made love.
I’m jumping ahead of my story though, I was studying a four-year degree course where the third year was a work placement, the university helped us find companies that would provide training to compliment our study programme. I was lucky to find a placement not too far from the campus, so I was still able to stay in the house I was sharing with the girls I’d been with for the first two years.
I first met Grant at the interview, his sister Natalie interviewed me initially then introduced me to him for his approval to hire me. He didn’t say much, just told me about the company, what they did, explaining that he and Natalie had jointly inherited the company from their father. As he spoke to me he had a look in his eyes that I found slightly intimidating, an expression that I could not quite fathom.
I was used to men mentally undressing me, as I’m sure most women are, but it was more than that, he appeared not just to be looking at my body through my clothes, but right into my soul. It sent shivers down my spine as I forced myself to remain calm and hold his penetrating gaze.
The meaning of that look would only become clear to me years later and is at the core of my tale. For now, though I was pleasantly surprised when after looking at me in silence for a long moment he switched his attention to his sister to tell her that he was happy with her choice.
From my first day Natalie took me under her wing, she was nice to me, making sure the work I was given was meaningful and helpful for my education. She made sure I understood what I was doing and why, I was part of the team and the others welcomed me. The work was hard but rewarding, I was learning so much.
Grant was the company figurehead, the salesperson if you like. He travelled regularly in order to convert the proposals that we in the office had prepared. He was always very professional in dealing with us, the staff, in the office but I had little to do with him directly.
Shortly after I started working there we were rewarded with a meal out for the whole team, after our meal we went on to do some dancing, the treat was to celebrate the success in securing a lucrative contract, and even though I hardly contributed I was invited to join them, as I was on all subsequent occasions. On the first outing the men in the team flirted with me and, to an extent, I gave as good as I got. It was all good harmless fun as all but one of the men were married, I made it clear it was just fun, I was not interested in taking anything further with any of them.
Grant seemed somewhat distant with us, except perhaps with Cindy, who was maybe five years older than me. I thought I noticed a ‘look’ pass between them, a brief intimate exchange that no one else seemed to see. I knew she was married as she’d told me about her husband and children at lunch one day, so I was a little surprised by what I thought I saw. Other than that brief interaction nothing else looked amiss. The rest of the team, including both Cindy and Grant, seemed at ease with each other and interchanged dance partners regularly. I might have been mistaken, reading too much in the very brief interchange between them.
My chance to partner Grant came quite late and it was only the one dance. He was a complete gentleman throughout my short time with him and smiled as he thanked me for being a good partner.
After that first get-together I noticed the guys toned down their flirting with me, they would laugh and joke with me, but the sexual undertone was gone. I found out many years later that Grant had made it known I was to be left alone. As the year went on we seemed to get together every couple of months, everyone enjoyed each occasion and I saw nothing else between Cindy and Grant, so perhaps I had imagined it after all.
Whenever it was my turn to dance a slow number with Grant he’d hold me close and, although I hadn’t really taken to the man, I liked dancing with him. He had a way with him, a bearing, he felt strong, in control, dominant even. I respected him and he made me feel safe. While we were together he seemed to focus on me, on my enjoyment, that said, he was always a gentleman. As time went on I began to feel slightly disappointed that he took no liberties with me, his hands never strayed, and he didn’t press himself against me inappropriately. I’m not sure how I would have handled it if he had though, I convinced myself it was a good thing he behaved.
I was still living with my student friends close to the university, so I went out with them most weekends, of course I occasionally enjoyed male company but, like the previous years, nothing regular or serious. When my friends went home during the Christmas break I had to work so stayed in the house alone, and of course there was the company Christmas Party to attend. I splashed out on a new dress and decided in advance to let my hair down. Tom, the one single guy in the team agreed to escort me and we sat with three others from our team who were with their partners. We had a blast.
One thing that did notice was that although Cindy was with her husband I saw her slip out of the room alone and that Grant followed a few minutes later. Cindy’s husband was sitting and laughing with some of the others from our team and appeared not to notice his wife’s absence. I saw Grant return to the room about twenty minutes later, Cindy was still missing, I didn’t actually see her return but next time I noticed she was back in place at her table.
I had my couple of dances with Grant of course, I was pleased when he complimented me on my dress. We’d both had a few drinks by then and I admit to pressing myself against him, perhaps a little closer than normal, I was impressed with what I briefly felt between us. However, he seemed slightly embarrassed by it and gently moved me away from his body with a smile. At the next song he tapped Tom’s shoulder to exchange partners. I felt a stab of disappointment at what felt like a rejection so moulded myself seductively into Tom, who seemed not to mind.
At the end of the evening Tom called a taxi and travelled with me to my digs, after asking the driver to wait he walked me to my door. We’d both been drinking and were quite ‘merry,’ so I pulled him to me to press my lips to his, he returned the kiss with some passion until we broke apart and I breathlessly invited him in. We both knew what was on offer so imagine my surprise when he refused, whispering, “thank you, you’re gorgeous, but I can’t.” Before I could ask why, or even say any more, he’d returned to the waiting cab and was gone.