The Ad [MF][ADULTERY] – Part 1 of ?

I am a middle aged man. I have a high libido, and a dead bedroom. Neither of those things are by choice, they just are. I have *one* close friend who I trust enough to be open with. The revelation of my situation sprung out of me on a hunting trip we took about 2 years ago. It started with a joke, then the verbal vomit that poured out of me came from the depths of my soul. He listened patiently, ignoring the fact that you don’t talk when you’re in a tree stand. You just don’t. But I did. And my friend, James, was shocked.

James is several years younger than I am, and physically, a beautiful specimen. I mean like mid 1990’s Brad Pitt. No, that’s not hyperbole, he’s just gorgeous – and I’m straighter than the bubble levels at Home Depot. That has nothing to do with this entry, by the way, just trying to paint the picture as best as I can.

So anyway, James invites me out for a beer and we do our usual chatting about work and whatnot, and the subject comes up. He tells me that I’m the best looking older guy he knows and it’s a shame that my situation is what it is. I tell him he’s crazy, buy him a shot (which I’m conditioned to do whenever anybody compliments me) and change the subject. He keeps going. In addition to being stunning on the outside, he’s genuinely compassionate and a good friend who tries to help me with my self esteem.

“Dude you need to get out there. You can’t live like this, you know? I bet there are a whole lot of women here tonight, right now, who would bang you in the parking lot”

“So what’s it going to be, tequila or something creative?” I chucked back to him.

“I’m serious, your problem is that you don’t have any confidence” and before I could respond he waved over the bartender, who he was on good terms with after being at the bar pretty regularly (I’m pretty sure he banged her in the parking lot at some point, too). “Hey Cindy, my buddy here, he’s got a sexy fucking vibe doesn’t he?”

OH MY GOD DID HE JUST? I wanted to slide under the bar apron and sneak out. “DUDE” I said to him with the nastiest look I could muster.

“FOR SURE, DILF MATERIAL” she said, putting another bottle of the beer I was drinking in front of me. “Too bad your married, sport” she said with a wink as she walked away to tend to other patrons.

I looked James in the eyes, put a hand on his shoulder and told him that if he ever did anything like that again, I would feed him his own beating heart. And in typical James fashion, he laughed, smiled and said “you do what you gotta do but I’m telling you bro, you could get laid EASILY if you wanted to.”

I let a little time pass before responding, changing the subject to something else. But he just wouldn’t let it go. Then I told him “look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do – but there’s just too much risk. I can’t just meet a woman. What if it got back to the wife? The kids? What if I DID meet somebody here and it’s one of their teachers next year? Nope, I can’t do it.”

James agreed, but said “I’ve done some time on dating apps, and honestly, you can just load a picture that doesn’t show your face, explain your situation, and see what happens. I honestly think you’d KILL IT if you just, well I don’t know…put some effort into it. You work non stop and deserve a little fun too. You’re not getting any younger, you’re not going to leave your wife, and you have so much energy that it kills me to see you holding back ALL THE TIME.” That last part got to me. He was right, I thought. Maybe I would try it. We finished our drinks talking about going hunting or fishing sometime soon, some work drama, and of course, the latest co-worker that invited him to dinner and a hotel (HOW DID THAT NOT LEAD THE CONVERSATION????)

That night, I did something uncharacteristic. I had another beer, at home. I sat alone, on the couch, as usual. The house was quiet, and the living room, where I sleep, was illuminated only by the glow of my laptop monitor. So yep, friends, I kept hearing James’ words. I did work my ass off. I do have a LOT of pent up energy. I’ve been stifling the dirty side of myself for 20 years, keeping it under tight wraps. My wife had no idea that deep inside, my true nature was to be a Dom, to be an aggressive sexual partner, filled with passion and enthusiasm. I had always kept that side of me tamped down, bound and gagged, playing the part of the typical suburban husband. And now I was a hollow shell, doing all the work at home and with the kids, tending to the lawn and garden, cleaning the grill every weekend, and helping with school trips and homework every night. My blanket in a ball at my feet from all the tossing and turning in the prior hour. I had watched a couple of episodes of Schitts Creek to occupy my brain, but to no avail. FUCK IT, I thought, I’M GOING TO TRY IT, JUST FOR FUN. Maybe it was the beer (I don’t drink much so that surely had something to do with it), but whatever it was, it was going to happen. Maybe.

But if nobody replies, would I be set even further down the confidence scale? Yep, I would. Was it worth the risk? Nope, probably not. But FUCK IT. I’m going to put the TRUTH out there. Maybe it’ll feel good just to write it out then I’ll delete it the next day. Yeah, that’s what I will do. Then I can convince myself that I didn’t try hard enough, and the problem isn’t that I’m just a creepy old fucking man now. I grabbed the laptop and put it on the coffee table, slid my ass out the the edge of the couch, and went to one of the popular dating sites I had heard so many people talking about on Instagram and TickTok and whatever else.

Fully well knowing this was an Biblically bad idea, my heart was racing. I thought for a moment, grabbed ANOTHER beer from the fridge, plopped back down, and filled out my profile. Username, age (ugh, yuck), marital status, interested in, interests, general location (I lied) and radius. I wrote several versions in the “about me” section. I think I sat there for 20 minutes, writing, deleting, writing, editing, deleting. Then I said “what would James recommend?” Yep, I’m going to just put it all out there. What I want. What I ACTUALLY want.
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ABOUT ME:

“Yes, I’m married, and if you thinks that makes me a douchebag, please move along or swipe whichever way you need to. I don’t need your judgement because you don’t know me anymore than I know you. If you’re still here…thank you.

You can see in my picture that I’m reasonably fit, but not a gym rat. I didn’t include my face for obvious reasons – but I have a full head of salt & pepper hair, darkish skin and green eyes. Pretty average looking. My dead bedroom has taken it’s toll on every aspect of my life. Believe it or not, I am a good family man, supportive and kind, but without passion, the neglect and honestly, loneliness, has ripped the real me to shreds. And I need a least a little of that back. I’m not looking to catch feelings, change my status (or yours) and don’t need any more friends. What I need is an encounter. I need a taste. I need to be safe, discreet, and let a little of my real self break out of the prison I’ve kept myself in and indulge in a little hedonistic fun. Just…once.

If this rings a bell with you, here’s how it’s going to work. You’re going to have to trust me. You have no reason to, but that’s part of the excitement for both of us. I need a woman who will give up control, despite her best logic and judgement. Who will take the risk, knowing I have as much to lose as she does. I need a woman who is tired of doing all the cooking and cleaning and running the kids around only to lie in bed, feeling lonely, unappreciated, and unwanted – just as I do. I need a woman who needs to cut lose, have a little fun, and let her real self break out, just for a little while. To be craved, to be with somebody who needs to consume her with urgency. If this sounds interesting, keep on reading.

We could exchange pictures and chat for a few days, but that’s not why I’m here. We need to get to it. I don’t care what your race is, I don’t care what your size is. I don’t care what color your hair or eyes are, or how tall or short you are. You just need to be enthusiastic, clean, and disease free.

You will pick a location at least 30 minutes from your home or work, where you can be, alone, for a little while, without the risk of being seen by somebody you know. You will pick a date and time when you can be there without raising any suspicion or impacting your family or real life. You will be given a hotel name and room number. I will not be in the room, but I will be very close by.

You will go to the room – the door will be left open for you – and given 15 minutes alone to freshen up. There will be some cold bottles of water, hot coffee and tea, and some light snack for you. When you are ready, you will send me a message that you are ready for me. That you are hungry. You will then put the blindfold on, which I will have left in plain view for you, and will face the wall, with your hands against the wall. Waiting for me…knowing that I’m ready for you. To taste you. To make you cum. A lot. Even if my clothes never come off, you need to be ready to be taken advantage of in every corner of that room, as many times as you can handle.
__________

I wanted to write more, because it kind of felt good to pretend, but I reached the limit of what I could write. I stared at it, imagining the scenario playing out for real. I couldn’t help but think of what it would be like…me in a hotel room with a blindfolded stranger, at my disposal, eating her pussy over and over. What would it be like for her? Feeling that “holy shit I’m going to cum again” and not even knowing what I look like or who I am. Yeah, if anybody would reply, this would be fucking hot. But honestly, who would? There can’t really be women like this out there. But James would say “you won’t know until you try, brother!”

I took a deep breath, circled around the “submit” button on the website, then clicked the mouse to send it off into the world. My heart raced even harder, I pounded the rest of the beer and fought off every urge to avoid what was sure to be another 24 hours of feeling rejected and deleting my profile. I grabbed the dogs leash, gave a whistle and took her for a nice long walk at 2:30 in the morning, trying to let the sounds of the creek at the end of the street cutting through dark silence and moonlight soothe my nerves a little….

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ohidv7/the_ad_mfadultery_part_1_of

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