Only a man can be in love with one woman but have sex with another. Women are too emotional, clingy and prone to jealousy to pull off detached affairs. Women aren't wired to be able to separate sex and love. At least, that is what I thought until I met him. Now I meet him once every two weeks, at the same time and place: our place, where the rest of the world ceases to exist. He has never tried to interfere with the adoration I feel for my husband. If anything, he encourages it by giving me everything my husband cannot. In return, he can do with me whatever he chooses. Our trust in one another has never wavered. In our eight years of meeting, we have mastered this tango. He has honed the ability to tenderly coax out my deepest desires, igniting the blue coals that simmer under my surface. We have a clean and uncomplicated understanding that our ignorance about life outside of our time together is bliss. Our time together is essential for the happiness of my family. We are participating in a Harmless Little Affair... until I am forced to watch, as everything I have ever worked for goes up in flames.
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