Here We Go Again: Meet Number 25.

Well, something has happened. Of course something has happened. My life was going fairly swimmingly and I was almost at the stage of being bored. Then *poof* as if by magic, shit goes down. If this was a movie right now, this would be where the “Dum dum duuuuuummmmm” happened.

Number 25 in my list – What’s Your Number? (or The Take Me To The Woods Guy) who I shall now abbreviate as TMTWG (Take Me To Woods Guy)as the above is a ball-ache to keep typing. I feel a copy and paste scenario coming on here! Guess what – another Soldier Boy.

I got a Facebook message whilst OB and I were at my Mama’s house.

“Hello u long time no speak how u been? Xx”

That’s not even a real sentence. Where are the commas and the periods? I saw his name – it’s not his real name. He missed two LL’s out of his surname on his Facebook profile page and I automatically knew the reason why.

Let me take you back to 2008/9. I was with The Hubby in the other European country, and I was sad, alone and miserable. I can’t tell you when it happened first, or what happened the first time we fucked. Or even the last for that matter. There is one time that stands out in my head but I knew there were a few more times to add to this list, despite the fact they never stood out in my mind.

The Hubby had been stabbed in the bar. Accidentally; by a fellow pisshead and a broken glass bottle as they fell to the floor. We were all there – me, him, TMTWG and a bunch of their work friends. Someone took him to the local hospital and TMTWG was ordered to drive me home in The Hubby’s car. I think we had already fucked by this point, or this may have even been our first time. I’m not entirely sure. Anyway, I needed to get changed before I made my way to the hospital. I was wearing a dress so I went home and changed into jeans. TMTWG came into my flat with me. The next minute, all I knew was that we were kissing. I was drunk and he was sober and there was a lot of passionate, urgent kissing. We fucked in that apartment – all over the floor. He told me today in the messages that followed – “fucking right was quality and u fucked the life outta me in ur flat” And another message that stated: “I tell u wat u rode really fuckin good lol” *Notice the diabolical state of these messages. They took me longer to decipher them than it did when we fucked!*

After he had fucked me in my flat, we went to find The Hubby but couldn’t. We ended up in the woods near to my house (hence the name) fucking, half-hanging out of The Hubby’s car. What a fucking slut I was.

That night was pretty good in my eyes – not the best, but most definitely not the worst. There were a few problems, of course; he was engaged to be married with a girl that already had one baby from a previous relationship and had HIS baby on the way, and I was married to The Hubby. We were bad, bad people.

We got caught, of course. We were stupid. His fiancée found our MSN chat messages saying that we should meet up again, on this day, etc. Blah blah blah. Lots of flirting, lots of very clear proof that he had been cheating on her, and she threatened to tell The Hubby if I didn’t leave him alone. I did leave him alone and rumors soon followed that he had been bonking one of the other wives, despite the fact that he was still regularly messaging me.

He and his girlfriend are still together, actually now married, more fool her. They are two adults, two babies and one perfect marriage towards from vomitville. However, I know better. I know better because he is messaging me and our messages are not particularly platonic ones. Well, mine are. His aren’t. I told him about OB very early on in the conversation, and even mentioned the fact that he was next to me in the car. This didn’t stop TMTWG though – he kept on going.

Me: Aren’t you still with your wife?

TMTWG: Yeah but I wouldn’t have minded seein u lol

There were more messages along this line – he has made his view on things very clear. He wants us to meet him and he wants to reenact those nights we had back when I was still with The Hubby. He even went as far as to ask me whether or not I had been faithful to my current guy. The fucking cheek of it!

He kept telling me how hot I was and asked for pictures of me. He had already stalked my Facebook page and the photos that are public on it, and he told me the ones that stood out for him. I should really have stopped the conversation dead in its tracks and told him I wasn’t interested, but for some reason I didn’t. I actually sent him a couple of the pictures from my Facebook that he specifically asked for, and one more recent one with my newest hair color. I’m not sure why I did this, but I’m sure we will come back to this later.

The things he said to me were clear lines that guys are meant to say when they are trying to get a girl into bed. I was always gorgeous, he always wanted me, he still wants me, etc. The worst of it all was that the things he was saying to me actually made me feel good. If he had been chatting me up in a bar, I would most definitely have given him my number. He’s a creep though – an actual creep. He’s a slime ball that cheats on his wife AND his kids, and doesn’t give a shit who finds out about it. It’s disgusting really, the lengths that a man will go to just to cheat on the person they are meant to love the most. She’s not even ugly or fat. She’s beautiful, skinny and fights defiantly for her man. Stupid prick he is. If he loses her, he will lose the best thing that ever happened to him.

He told me that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that we were talking, of course. Standard married man chat – I’ve been on the receiving end of enough of them to know what they are really saying. He wants us to dirty talk, send photos, meet up, fuck the night away and never tell anyone. Perhaps repeating the scenario every now and again when he or I get bored/are in roughly the same place/fancy a little something different.

He’s not even that good looking. I mean he’s not ugly or anything, but he’s no Brad Pitt, I can tell you that. He was punching well above his weight with his wife.

The thing is – what is making me think about him now? Why am I still messaging him back? Why haven’t I just told him straight that I’m most definitely not interested? Well, we all know the answer to that – he will stop messaging me if I tell him straight, and I’m actually enjoying the little thrill of something naughty/different/not OB. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Slamming back to reality with brute force, OB is currently sat on my bed, watching True Blood, waiting for me to stop blogging. I had to blog about TMTWG – I had to tell you guys. I had to write it down. OB doesn’t know he has been messaging me today, but he knows something is out of the ordinary. He knows something is on my mind. He is very in tune with my emotions and as much as I love it, I hate that it gives me very little privacy. In fact, not even privacy, just the place to hide things.

I haven’t heard from TMTWG since about 6pm – the time he would have left work and gone home to his wife. I know exactly what’s going on here – he wants something on the side; a little something to keep things spicy. The question is – what am I going to do about it?

 What is this?

 

5 thoughts on “Here We Go Again: Meet Number 25.

  1. Nothing. You are going to do nothing about it. OB is a good guy, the sex is good, this other guy is a shit-head. Wait, I take it back… Why not share the whole txt stream with OB and have a good laugh about it all.

  2. Hahaha I was considering that, but it might make him jealous and weird and I don’t want that. I don’t want to see TMTWG but as you’ve been reading this since pretty much the beginning, (thanks for that! I love ya for it!) you’ll know that my head doesn’t rule my life as much as it should. My vagina leads me into more problems than necessary! To be honest, as the guy messaged me this morning I realised that he is clearly a dousche and is getting far more time out of me than he deserves. Do I really want to get myself into that situation again and potentially get caught by his now-wife? Would I want to cheat on OB? No, of course I wouldn’t.

    He sure is giving me an ego-boost though…..

  3. Pingback: When Is Cheating, Cheating? | Not So Sex in the City!

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