Regret

Several times throughout my life, I did something that I wish I didn’t. Early 2023 was a prime example of this. By the time Summer was approaching, I really regretted my decision to cheat on my wife. It may sound like I’m a scandalous person, but really, I just wish she never found out. Anyone who is married understands that love can truly be a war. Each mistake made by either partner becomes ammo in the next argument; now she had an atomic bomb in her arsenal.

The affair exposed how weak I am. It started years before. I was still working as a bouncer in Downtown LA. I worked at a few different bars. One day, I was at a whiskey bar that was above a large restaurant. The whole building was once a bank in the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s, having different levels. The restaurant on the ground level was at one point called Clifton’s. Anyone who knows the history of Los Angeles knows that Clifton’s was a major chain. They had seven locations throughout the city, five of which were in the downtown area. Now there was only one location in downtown, and another location in the valley. But the one at the building I was working at had been closed for decades. During the renaissance/gentrification of LA in the early 2000's, the whiskey bar opened on the second floor. Then a hipster-friendly Mexican restaurant opened on the ground floor. About ten years after, the Mexican restaurant closed due to rising rent. I continued working for the whiskey bar while the bottom was being renovated for the next client. I stood at the front entrance, checking ID’s and guiding customers upstairs and away from the mess downstairs. This was when she walked in.

She was probably in her mid-forties. She had red hair. She wore glasses. She was relatively cute, and her sexiness was average at best. She was sexually aggressive.

I asked for ID. She said she was not here for the bar. Instead, she had been researching the architect of the building. Apparently, the architect was a spiritual advisor who mentored her spiritual advisor. Because of this, she wanted to check out a certain area of the building that was where the restaurant was. She wanted to take pictures of the ornate ceiling to show her mentor. She asked if I would let her in.

The restaurant area was closed off by a sort of vestibule that had a door and a wall that had the name of the previous restaurant displayed; the name was cut into the wall with gaps that one might be able to squeeze through. I told her the restaurant was closed, but if she wanted to try to squeeze through the gaps, I would not stop her. I told her she might get a little dirty, if she didn’t mind. She looked me in the eyes and said she didn’t mind getting dirty.

She attempted to squeeze through, and I helped her. I could feel my dick getting hard. She got in and started her clandestine mission in the closed restaurant. I knew there were cameras and that my managers could see what I was doing. I did not really care; most of my managers were womanizers. She soon came back and asked for help. I still had a semi-erect penis. She felt it as I helped her out.

This was when she started telling me about her spiritual quest in Los Angeles. Her name was Michelle, from Arizona, but she originally grew up near LA, in Agoura Hills. Her friend was driving her around and they were visiting sites of spiritual significance. I invited her into the whiskey bar, letting her know it was one of the best in California. She told me she would get her friend and stay for a drink or two.

Her friend was a man. I figured they were together, or might be getting together, or he might be in the friend zone. He looked much older. They both went upstairs. She soon returned, asking me if she could smoke outside. I told her of course. I think this is where I started thinking about having an affair with her. The old saying is, “If she smokes, she pokes.”

I escorted her outside and we chatted some more. We had some things in common. Mostly smoking and drinking. I did not smoke cigarettes anymore, but I had my cannabis wax pen. I let her have some. She was appreciative. Eventually, she started making excuses to brush her body against mine. I think she was trying to feel my cock to see how big it is.

She went back upstairs. I chilled for some time, trying not to think about it. My marriage was not great at this time. We had had intimacy problems. Sometimes I could not get hard or stay hard. My wife was not very sympathetic about this. A few times she had chided me for not being attracted to her anymore. This was not the case, but I could not tell her anything that would change her mind about this. It became a stress test every time we tried to have sex; would I be able to? Now this new woman came into my life, and I felt like I was in my twenties again.

Michelle came back down with her friend and told me she was leaving. She also said she wanted my number. I gave it to her. She had seen the ring on my finger; I never attempted to hide it. After we exchanged numbers, she leaned in to hug me. I was sitting on a stool. She moved between my legs and felt how I felt about her. She hugged me tighter and let go. She turned around and I saw her ass. This was probably her best feature. I grabbed her hips and pulled he back to me, kissing her neck. She shivered a little. I liked that. It was at this point that I thought of all the times before I was married that I had bad luck with women. All the almost connections or halfway hook ups that never panned out. I felt like this woman could help me redeem myself as a man.

Cheating was something I never felt like I would do. But as I said, love is a war. Some of the insults my wife had thrown at me were always in the back of my mind. Additionally, it seemed like everyone in the bar industry is a cheat. I have seen several of my managers and bar owners with their mistresses. The employees were mostly single. LA’s bar scene was not a place for virtue and honor. Most of the men were weak and most of the women knew how to use their sexuality.

Michelle texted, asking for a dick pic. She moved quickly. Before I knew it, I was in the bathroom, taking a picture of my cock. She liked it. We planned to meet after my shift, when I had an hour till my next shift at another bar. We met in a parking structure. Her friend from earlier was there. She said he was not her boyfriend or anything, but she wanted him to stay close for safety reasons (kind of awkward). She had everything planned out perfectly. There was only one problem: erectile dysfunction.

Those of you who have never had to deal with this problem (either as a man or a woman) will not understand how this can affect you. Men with ED will often talk about the stress involved, while the women with partners with ED will often blame themselves. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy that any lovemaking will be fraught with awkwardness and disdain.

As I made my way to Michell’s friend’s car, I started feeling anxious. I was wondering if my ED would make an appearance. It did. I licked her to see if that made me harder. It did not. She did not return the favor. This made me kind of mad. I eventually got hard enough to stick it in, but I came too quickly. She seemed to enjoy that. I made my getaway, claiming I needed to get to my next job. She texted later, planning our next time.

A few weeks later was when she returned to LA from Arizona. We tried again. She came to my other job, where I had more freedom to fool around (I had a few other bouncers working with me; no one would miss me for the time I needed to fuck her). Once again, nervousness and anxiety affected my performance. She was begging for it, but I could not give it to her. I regretted the whole thing. I told her I needed to get back to work, pulling up my pants and leaving her in the back storage area (where most of the other employees and managers had their encounters). She soon left with her friend after having a few more free drinks. She texted me that she was waiting for me in the parking structure, but I had no intention of meeting her again. I told her I needed to get back home after the end of work. I never mentioned my wife, but she understood.

That was in the Summer of 2019. Fast-forward to Christmas time, 2022. I was no longer a bouncer, but a teacher. My wife and I were doing a little better; I had gotten a prescription for Sildenafil. There were no longer arguments about intimacy, but we still had other arguments. Things in general were okay. Then, Michelle texted “Happy Holidays.” I still wish I hadn’t responded.

“Thanks, you too.”

“Long time no see.”

“Right. How have you been?”

“Good. Still want to fuck you.”

“I don’t work as a bouncer anymore.”

“That’s cool. Where do you work?”

“I’m a teacher now.”

“OMG that is hot!”

“When are you in LA again?”

“After the New Year. Wanna fuck then?”

“Yes.”

That is when I made a decision that I would really regret. It was almost destined; Michelle was coming out on a weekend that my wife would be working on a Saturday. I could meet up with her at her friend’s house and be back home before my wife got home. I took a pill to be ready. We fucked for about an hour. I must have given her about 3 or 4 orgasms. I felt manly. For a few weeks after this, I even fucked my wife more often because of how good I felt. It was like when we first met. Unfortunately, the Gonorrhea was incubating during this time.

I had just fucked my wife the night before. When I came, it was a little painful. When I woke up in the morning to take a shit, I noticed a discharge coming from my penis. It was like a nightmare, but I could not wake up. I drove to work, anxious to Google more about the symptoms. It was either Gonorrhea or Chlamydia. I needed to get tested. A few days later, I found out it was the former, not the latter. I got the shot and it cleared up. But my wife started telling me about a discharge of her own. I thought I could keep this as my shameful secret, but I would have to tell her.

It was about a week of arguing with myself. It was a difficult decision to make. I decided to tell her. I told her on a Sunday. I figured God would help her to forgive me. I cried as I told her, which made her sympathetic. But she was still angry enough to leave the house for most of the day after that. I was stuck at home, wondering if this would be the end of my marriage. It felt like forever. I spent all day beating myself up, literally and figuratively. I socked myself in the head; I scolded myself. She eventually came home and forgave me, for the time being. Since this all happened, we have gone through many hours of therapy.

I will not cheat on her again. We have come to an understanding about my ED and other intimacy issues. She forgives me almost every day. I regret getting caught, but I regret even more the fact that I did it in the first place. We are at a point where we can joke about it, and we both feel less traumatized from the experience. She still has that atomic bomb to use whenever we argue, but she does not use it as often as I thought she would.