Sunday, October 25, 2009

Trouble Text

*If this is your first time here, read the first post "The Set-Up"*

Until now, I've never dated more than one woman at a time. Maybe that's odd in this era of loose sex, but until recently I was a pretty traditional guy. Anyway, it's way more complicated than I'd ever anticipated, juggling schedules, calls, and dates to keep the girls ignorant of each other. Especially when you consider the age we live in where communications are so much faster and more frequent, increasing the odds of screwing something up. Of course, increasing the odds of screwing something up also increases the endorphin rush...

Originally I had the same goal as every other dude on the planet: get laid on Halloween. After running around all night, consuming alcoholic beverages and seeing all the women advertising their assets in next-to-nothing costumes, I wanted some guaranteed tail. As I'm currently seeing three women, this didn't seem like it would be too difficult.

Then I found out that Nikky had convinced the hubby to let her get a hotel room for the night. She wanted to go downtown to the party (where I planned to be) and managed a room by telling the husband that she didn't want to drive home with all the drunks on the roads (not to mention Nikky herself loves to drink). We've only been face-to-face once but I've been deliberately upping the sexual tension in our texts and emails, trying to check off the Seduced-A-Married-Woman block on my Deviant List. With alcohol, a hotel room, and slutty outfits in the mix... this was going to be a cake-walk.

With more tail available on the night in question, the goal evolved: get at least two pieces of ass on Halloween...

The idea of juggling Jenn and Nikky around on the same evening made my palms sweat and loins ache. Short of getting them both into bed at the same time (also on the Deviant List) this would be about as despicable a night as I could have. The kind of night where you're shaking your achy head the next morning in amazement, then pumping your fist in the air in triumph. Then probably icing down your over-used groin...

Yesterday morning Jenn was shopping around for a sexy costume when I was headed to bed (I work nights). When I woke up there was a text from her saying that she'd picked up the perfect one and sent me a picture.

I ran to the computer and found a very sexy Red Riding Hood waiting in my inbox. I wrote a text back.
"Damn, that's hot! Does that mean I should be the Big Bad Wolf?"

Jenn doesn't text/email much so I didn't think anything of it that she didn't write back right away. Nikky, on the other hand, is a text fiend. Of course I actually get to fuck Jenn and not Nikky (yet), so they balance each other out pretty well.

About an hour later I get a text from the wife:
"Lol, you so sent that to the wrong number!"

I was confused, not sure what she was talking about. I reviewed my sent messages and realized I'd sent her Jenn's message by mistake.
Fuck.

Cat and I have a pretty good arrangement, we both see other people but we're always respectful of the other person. That means telling a lot of white lies and half truths. So basically it's the same as a normal marriage except we both pretty much know what the other person is up to and keep up pretenses out of politeness.

The problem is that she's a far better, far more experienced liar than I am. Once I figured that out I hacked her email account and re-established balance. (Note to the husbands out there reading this; I highly recommend every husband hack their wife's email account. Just don't let on that you know anything, gather intel for divorce or for when you're own actions come out.)

On one hand it was a relief that I accidentally sent the text to the wife and not the potential fuck-buddy, Nikky, which would have totally ruined the two-pieces-of-ass goal. On the other hand, there's always a delicate balance between the wife and I, which this threatened to displace. Having an independent, attractive, intelligent, successful wife is like living with your neck under the guillotine, make a move she doesn't like and she can totally fuck your life. And she knows it.

Luckily, she read the text and laughed her ass off at my expense. I wouldn't be surprised if she comes home from work one of these nights and has some fangs, furry gloves, and an ugly wolf costume for me. She pictures me at the bar trying to pick up chicks in that get up and just laughs... and laughs... And me using that line to flirt with Jenn? It's too pathetic to upset the balance. Luckily.

As the information age creeps further and further into our lives, it gets harder and harder to keep some things separate: different women you're trying to fuck, a husband who hopefully hasn't tapped his wife's email yet, and a wife who knows more than she wants to.

It's amazing how much more complicated life gets when you're a deceitful asshole to half the people you know. And yet, somehow that just makes it more fun.

2 comments:

  1. I think you will become the guy I love to hate, but secretly can stop reading about. ;-)

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  2. Oh yes Frances after reading that I feel exactly the same way.

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