After writing my last confession, I realized I’ve long had a thing for married women. In a way, it’s like you truly know someone when you have an affair with them. Or at least, you know a side of them that we normally keep hidden. You both have this hunger you can’t satisfy in your regular life, so you have this secret place with this secret person where you find a little thrill together.
You could say I started early. My first affair with a married woman was when I was on break from my first semester in college. Her name was Ann, and she was the hostess of a local sports bar. We had an immediate attraction, like an anvil falling from the heavens kind of connection. Magnetic. Raw. It’s rare but it happens.
I was meeting up with friends at the bar to play pool. All I did was walk past her, but we both literally turned to look at each other. She was about 5’3” and quite thin with a blonde pixie cut. Colorful flower tattoos, a stud in her nose. She had, I would later discover, fake D Cup tits and a great round ass. Big blue eyes and pouty lips. She looked a bit Russian in the face, and a lot younger than she was, almost childish in fact, but I later learned she was nearly 30.