The First Time I Cheated On My Husband
He has a second wife, and the only way I could accept this was by playing tit-for-tat.
The hunk I married
His silky hair blew effortlessly in the wind. His muscular body hidden beneath the translucent kurta pajama he was wearing needed to be exposed. His chocolate-brown eyes made all beautiful ladies drool. His husky voice was made more beautiful by his courteous and flattering choice of words as he addressed every woman.
He was now mine. I was his wife and he had put a ring on me. Every other woman who coveted him had failed to have him forever. I had succeeded in marrying the most popular heartthrob of the small neighborhood we lived in. Congratulations Zaria!
He could not help being handsome and polite. Those were good things, but he could also not help drawing the attention of all those love-thirsty women. He continued to give in to their flirting attempts. He continued to remain the casanova he was, even after he was mine.
I knew and had accepted his flirtatious nature. I had to be okay with it, as long as he did not wander his eyes too much here and there. But this time his fertile sperm wandered into a blooming flower — Saskia, another heartthrob but much more reserved in her approaches toward him.
It was this attribute of hers, of playing hard to get, that kept him constantly coming back for more and even manage to plant his seed in her immature vagina. She was pregnant with his child and he felt an intolerable urge to make her his too.
Being raised in a conservative nation, I really did not know how to react to this news, but I knew one thing for sure, I could not lose Ishaan at any cost. I was already a mother to two of his kids and would always remain the priority, I consoled myself. And so, I decided to make a sacrifice and accept Saskia into our home.
His new wife
Oh, the poor thing. She is young and fresh and looked up to me for any advice on raising a home and a family. She depended on me to enquire about Ishaan’s likes and dislikes. I misguided her. She called me ‘baji’ meaning elder sister in Urdu, but this baji gave her extra work so she had no time to sit even when our husband was home.
But she had an advantage. She suffered a miscarriage and gained more sympathy from Ishaan. Having no children in the night to disturb his sleep, Ishaan often wafted away to Saskia’s room at night. I was left sulking and struggling with the kids, hearing pleasurable moaning sounds that started to permanently scar my already brittle heart.
We were a pretty liberal Pakistani family as compared to others. In Islam, some families consider music ‘haram’ or prohibited as Islam associated the use of musical instruments to create a trance that provoked drugs and drinking. Ishaan allowed me to follow my passion for dancing and I went for lessons.
Here a not-so-handsome but equally rhythmic dance partner started hitting on me. I felt the shivers too when our bodies rhythmically moved to each other’s chemistry, but being a married woman with two kids, I denied myself momentary pleasure.
Now that my own husband spent more intimate time with his second wife, I did not see giving in to my sensuous temptations as something wrong. In Pakistan, women are kept undercover. Men and even mature, modern women try to hold on to Islam’s claim of inculcating these ‘modest’ values in a girl since childhood.
When you deny a child too much of even a bad thing, it invokes curiosity. Curiosity either kills the cat or leads to further discoveries. In my case, the strict measures to have always keep me under control had gone overboard. When I decided to give cheating a chance, that trance-like music actually opened up undiscovered spheres inside me. I became a new person with new fetishes.
The first time I gave in to temptation
It was tight and hot in the dance class. The air between the two of us was almost pregnant with pheromones. In this vibe of I just let myself fall. My body moved toward this new lover as if by itself. To let me loose, I transferred this dance lesson in Pakistan to a sex club in the western world.
The well-covered closely dancing couples suddenly became stark naked in my eyes. Impressively flexible hips circled each other in time, hot-blooded men bumped their pelvis against bulging behinds in shorts that were far too short and sweat ran down their suntanned backs. It was like a mixture of Sean Paul’s music with a Spanish porno party.
We tried hard to concentrate on the dance instructors’ instructions and continued moving with each other in an exaggeratedly sexy way out of insecurity. This phase then turned into an erotic, slightly foggy indifference. My conservative lover too was taken aback by my new steam.
I enjoyed the attention and the moment and let my hands slide over my body pulling my fully clothed self closer to my partner until he could feel the burning through his and through. He wanted to reciprocate, but this was not quite the right place
I excused myself and went to the bathroom, and he followed along. I felt a hot, panting breath on the back of my neck as I waited outside the larger family room with my back turned toward its entrance. I felt a breath of warm air on my neck. A firm upper body pressed against me, his hips pushed closer and closer to me from behind. A wave of testosterone clouded my senses while this scent of aftershave and slightly sweaty man’s skin enveloped me.
Comfortable goosebumps and an exciting, tingling sensation shot over my skin and through my body. Two large hands cupped my hips and pressed my buttocks against something very large, very hard. I too played along and pressed myself against his loin with my hips circling.
The breathing became harder and the unknown hands wandered to my bottom, gripped tightly and kneaded while I felt his chin on my neck. His lips brushed my ear, again and again, I threw my head to one side devotedly and let him have his way.
We sweat, we danced, we melted together — me and this new strange lover who renewed me in mind and spirit. We too were caught unawares as this sexual attraction between us became an uncontrollable runaway success.
Still, in the rhythm of the faint music from the class, he pressed himself against me again and again until I could hardly bear it with pleasure. My panties were now surrendered to the physical effects of the passion and my legs were throbbing wildly, eager to take this scenario to the extreme.
His hands seemed to feel it and ventured further — over my hips, under my skirt. One hand found its way back, the other forward — both slipped under my underwear and continued to circle, from his hips down to his fingertips. It only took a few seconds for an unforgettable intense orgasm to overtake me. My knees gave out, but he held me tight. I felt his satisfied grin on my neck.
I realized what had just happened and began to look around, ashamed. What now? I was about to turn around and free myself from his grip. I wanted to run off to the kids, but suddenly an image of Saskia and Ishaan together in bed flashed.
I gave in to this strange body, unyielding and wild. His fingers sank wherever the sun hadn’t shone yet. I came again so hard that I groaned loudly. I pulled his hand out of my panties, trembling and uncertain, turned to him and looked into the most beautiful brown eyes on this planet.
He grinned at me and I kissed him. He took my hand and pulled me with him. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and saved his number.
The new me
Cheating on my husband has helped me understand his need for variety in sex. Since I cheated on him, I really do not look forward to the forced mingling of our bodies. I actually never enjoyed sex with him. Most of the time I was faking the orgasm. What gave me sensual pleasure was foreplay, which he shamelessly cut short to cut to the chase.
I enjoy bodies slowly melting into each other. I need time to get into the mood to enjoy sexual intercourse and the domestic life at home did not do justice to my wants. The dance lessons provided an outlet for my passion for dance and my newly discovered passion for sex.
Adultery has aroused me to peek through Ishaan and Saskia’s door each time they decide to enjoy themselves in bed. I now look forward to watching this live porn to masturbate in secret. The new me longs to see my husband enjoy fucking my puny mistress. The new me enjoys slowly being drifted into the arms of my lover.
The music and its beat, and a threat to my marriage were all I needed to teach myself the correct steps to a life filled with self-love and security.
“Don’t set yourself on fire trying to keep others warm.”
― Penny Reid, Beard in Mind
