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Marriage, Sex, and Illicit Encounters

“Please, don’t dance with them. You can dance with me. I’ll learn.” Memories float through my mind of an insecure man, my first boyfriend, his guilt inducing eyes staring doelike into mine as he pleaded with me to give up my most cherished hobby. “I don’t like how you look into their eyes and hold their hands” this, the reason given for why I shouldn’t continue a dance I’d learned before I’d ever met him, a passion, something I loved, but for the sake of our barely formed union, something I should deny myself, something I should even feel guilty for wanting.  

Of the making or breaking of a relationship, that bond of a life shared, what is the difference? As some crash and burn in a whirlwind of drama, others slowly and tediously smolder and die out just as a wet log placed on a small fire most certainly will do.

Thankfully, my first relationship crashed and burned, and I find myself in a beautiful place with a secure man, and this comparison between these two relationships gets me thinking. Let me take you on a sultry, yet also thought inducing journey of where my mind goes when thinking about the question in the paragraph above.  

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A few weekends ago, I flirted and danced rather shamelessly with a man at my favorite club on a Friday night, ass on him doing hip circles as I definitely felt his arousal. On Saturday night,  I had a great date night with my husband, dancing even more sensually, feeling the thirsty glances land on us like raindrops. 

But, if one is to believe the traditional wisdom of many cultures around the world, including my own, the key to a “good” relationship lies in the language of possession for the sake of protection. We say things such as “you’re mine” and to defend such rights of ownership there can arise much conflict – on the extreme end of things, you see fights, domestic violence, and even the murder of a partner’s elicit lover.  And on the more subtle end, the daily denial of things that make us feel alive, a slow sort of asphyxiation. 

For many, it’s generally believed that the more we focus our attention exclusively on our partners, the stronger our relationships will be. But is that always true? For some maybe it is,  but given how much cheating and divorce go on in the world,  I wonder, if perhaps, there are some rather big flaws in that logic. 

Are we pretending to them and to ourselves that the commitment we made somehow snuffed out any feelings of attraction to others or desires for novelty?  Personally, I know that my desires for men I find attractive did not magically disappear on my wedding day. 

Let’s go back to Friday night, which was in fact a girls night out with a good friend. We both dressed up, immodestly,  as some might sneer at the sheer tops and short skirts we chose to wear. 

I wasn’t single, to use the well-trodden cliché, but I was indeed ready to mingle, knowing from recent conversations my partner, Luke, and I have been having about our relationship, our sex life, and our boundaries, that I could go out and flirt, talk, and dance with whomever I wanted, knowing that it wouldn’t bother him or harm our relationship. In fact, I know he’s happy that I’m enjoying myself and exploring my sensual side in ways I haven’t always felt free to do. 

In her 2018 book Untrue: Why Nearly Everything We Believe About Women, Lust, and Infidelity Is Wrong and How the New Science Can Set Us Free Dr. Wednesday Martin makes the argument that it is in fact women who are deeply sexual creatures who crave variety and intrigue, perhaps even more than men. Yet, given the current cultural view of women and our roles in relationships and society, we are not often encouraged to acknowledge let alone explore that deep and arousing part of ourselves.

In her book, Wednesday makes an argument for an alternative view of female sexuality when she asks “What if it’s women, not men, who struggle especially with monogamy? … If the routinization of sex and institutionalization of roles within a long-term partnership dampens us in ways they don’t men; if women, too, crave variety and novelty of sexual experience and partners, perhaps even more than men do…if self-described happily married women are having affairs and doing so not for emotional but for sexual gratification, then nearly everything women have been taught about our sexual selves is patently untrue” (58). Throughout the rest of her book Wednesday makes a convincing argument for why we should rethink the assumptions we make about women, cultural notions that we desire sex less than men, that we’re content as long as we have security, all things that Wednesday argues are not accurate.  

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While at the club on Friday, an attractive man approached us, his pickup line locked and loaded. 

“Where are you from? I’ve got to know.” He said. “You’re so beautiful, but I can’t place your looks. You look like you could be middle eastern, maybe Iranian?” 

The three of us chatted. His name was Travis, and the alcohol in his veins kept his compliments on tap. “You’re so beautiful” he kept repeating. When he suggested that he would love it if we could meet up sometime, I raised my left hand, wedding ring sliding to the center of attention in front of my face. The disappointment was palpable in his expression.

My friend started dancing with someone else, but we kept talking. He asked about my marriage, how long we’ve been together, how does a person get so lucky, etc. He was interesting and articulate, not pushy but clearly thirsty. 


“You know” I teased him, “I have permission to dance tonight.” I said permission to get the point across, but I know my husband would argue that it’s not his role to give or revoke permission from me. 

I didn’t need to explain my point twice; club guy came in, hands sliding down my arms, turning me to face away from him, strong fingers curling around my hips. 

As mentioned in the opening of this piece, I love dancing; it’s been my longest obsession, and I know quite well how to move. I could feel his body, warm and longing against mine, his cock hard, pressing into my ass as I moved in rhythm to the music, hips twisting and circling.  We danced like that for a bit, not all night, but long enough to enjoy the desire I’m capable of creating, to enjoy my own beauty and the company of a man, who was in fact, interesting and good at making conversation. 

Wednesday makes the point that “being desired by someone whose desire for us is a given doesn’t confer the same thrill we feel when we get that lustful glance from a stranger on the street” (48). It’s the novelty and excitement of something that’s out of the monotony of routine that brings a breeze of fresh air, a pulsating kind of excitement. 

“If you ever plan to leave your husband, you have to tell me,” club guy said to me with an edge of seriousness as we were dancing. 

“Now why,” I teasingly asked him, cocking my head to the side a little and looking up to his brown eyes, “would I ever need to leave a man who told me to go out and have fun tonight, leaving me free to enjoy myself with the company of whomever I wanted?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he replied, hands on my hips, eyes looking into mine, “I could never do that. I mean, I’m not a possessive man, but you’re just too fucking hot. I could never do that.” 

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And I wonder what it is that men fear when it comes to “allowing” their women some freedom to enjoy and express themselves sexually, to experience the thrill of desire from someone different. Is it a fear of having someone steal their women from them? Certainly that is a possibility. But isn’t the reverse true? Is it possible to stifle a woman to the point where she leaves or cheats out of boredom? After all, without air,  a fire struggles and will eventually die. This was most certainly what happened to my first relationship, a slow trail of giving up things I loved to the point of suffocation, then revolt. 

Were we to reframe our thinking, perhaps we could see things from a different perspective. My night out was refreshing and fun, and it also made me appreciate my partner more in so many ways. (It also made me horny, an added bonus for the both of us.)

I feel connected and bonded to my partner more than at any other point now that we are exploring and choosing to define our relationship how we want.  This despite, or perhaps rather because of the fact that novel adventures beyond our partnership loom in the horizon. This was in fact, the first time I have rubbed my ass on a man other than my husband in the last 10 years, and yet, our relationship has never been better. 

When we got home after our date night, we went up to our newly redecorated, sexually stimulating, master bedroom (I recommend watching “How to Build a Sex Room” on Netflix for some inspiration.) 

“This will be part of your foreplay” I told him as I dropped my dress to the floor and leaned over our new chaise lounge to take a few pictures for my sexy little side hustle (of which you,  dear viewer, have clearly discovered ;). 

Luke sat at the foot of our bed watching, taking a few pictures of his own. Dawning a sexy mask, I snapped a few more photos as he watched, now reclining on the lounge, strong sexy hands stroking his very hard cock. I came over, mask still on, and kneeled in front of him to lick up his thigh, my eyes seducing his from behind the elven cosplay.

He moaned in anticipation as I rubbed just the tips of my fingers up and down his shaft a couple of times. Then, I slowly lowered my face down to taste him, mouth open, taking him in, delighting in the sounds of pleasure I was giving to his body.

I stood up, naked body on display in front of his reclined form, and walked over to collect a generous amount of coconut oil. My pussy glistened with it as I returned to the lounge and stood over him. 

“Could you do that thing you do with your hands,” he asked, looking at me with eyes soaked in pleasure, referring to a technique where I take each of my hands on opposing sides of his cock and slide them up and down in opposite directions, as if you’re trying to warm up your hands with a dick in between. He fucking loves it. I stood above him as he stayed reclined and gave him what he wanted. Then, I made him moan by alternating between taking him into my pussy and then back into my hands as I watched him bite his lip and sink his head back further onto the lounge. 

Then, it was my turn to lay back and enjoy receiving. Standing up, he pushed me back toward the massage table he got me for mother’s day. I perched on the edge, feet on his shoulders while he kissed his way down my thighs, taking his time, teasing until he reached my anticipating pussy.  I watched him, reclined on my elbows, drinking in the sight of his face between my legs, sucking my lips and licking my clit. 

He worked me until all I wanted was him deep inside. Pushing him off, I returned to the lounge and leaned over it, so he could take me from behind. I let him take me with his cock while his hands roamed my body, leaving trails of purring nerves. The pressure built until we both climaxed, me, and then him. 

~

And I suppose my point is this: thoughts, attractions, and desires for people beyond your relationship aren’t a betrayal of your commitment,  they’re simply a sign of your humanness. 

Your partner can be your ally, and the more you confide in each other and place trust in each other the better your relationship will be. Working together to define your relationship for yourselves instead of defaulting to a setting that was calibrated by puritanistic and patriarchal norms can be very refreshing, stimulating, and yes even healthy.

Perhaps for you that will mean nothing more than simply sharing some of your fantasies with your partner and listening to theirs without a sense of jealousy or betrayal and then exploring some role play together. Just the ability to talk about and acknowledge the desires we feel, without shame or judgements,  is freeing, regardless if or not you ever even do them. 

For my partner and I, it’s opened many interesting discussions about our desires and feelings, and we’ve grown closer while talking about the possibilities of sex parties, threesomes, side relationships and yes, dancing with strangers at a club. (And don’t worry dear viewer, you’ll be kept well in the loop of all the new things we try as this new direction we’ve chosen unfolds) 

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And here we sit, my husband and I, on a beautiful spring afternoon in our lush patio,  enjoying the warm breezes and sunshine, me writing this and him focusing on a work project as our young child plays happily with a branch at our feet. 

Who is to say that excitement and the domestic are mutually exclusive concepts? 

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