First story [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/jjycmd/mf_an_affair_i_cant_help_but_remember_longish/). If you’re not into my attempt at Gabriel Garcia Marquez storytelling, jump to **** for the raunchy stuff, you perv.
Again, the upfront warning, this story is mostly buildup and details and less of the gonzo physical. If that’s not for you…no judgment. It’s just that in remembering these stories, what sticks with me is less the exact details of how we fucked and more the details about the emotions and the lead up.
The next day, I packed my bag and left the hotel for my gig feeling deeply, profoundly conflicted. There was still a fog from the three orgasms over the course of the previous 12 hours but, in that strange post-nut clarity that washes over guys, I felt a wave a guilt washing over me. What I had just done I could never undo. Never again in my life could I say I had been faithful to my wife. Never again could I say she was the only one I had ever had sex with. I had just crossed the line and become someone who was a cheater, someone who was unfaithful. I felt gross and ashamed. And I determined it would never happen again. I couldn’t do that to myself and my wife. It was done, it was over.