Monogamy is simply not my thing.

Last week, I met D. for drinks at a trendy bar. After a month of emails in which we shared secrets and fantasies from the deepest darkest parts of ourselves, flirting seemed tamed in comparison. After a first drink, he asked me whether I wanted to take this further. I sat, pondering this question for a few minutes, decidedly unsure of what I was going to do. On the one hand, he was handsome and there was definite chemistry. On the other, I had never moved this quickly with a stranger before. There was something about D. that prevented me from overanalyzing the situation. I agreed to go to a hotel nearby after a second, much-needed drink. Perhaps it was that his seduction method appealed directly to my brainy side. His nerdy intelligence coupled with an apparent liking for the perverse and kinky excited me both body and mind.

When we stepped into the hotel room, I was both turned on and afraid. I was turned on by my sudden boldness and surprised at my decision to let this stranger do unspeakable things to me. I was afraid for the same reason. D. was still a stranger. A kinky stranger and I did not know what sleeping with him would be like or what it would awaken in me. 

What was ultimately awakened in me that night was my inner whore. To even begin to understand the implications of this statement, I must tell you that I am married. To my husband, my family and friends, I am a loving wife, a young professionnal and a devoted homemaker. 

To my lovers, I am their naughtiest and dirtiest little secret. 

Here, I am exposing my dark side.