Confessions of an Unfaithful Heart

In one sense, I stepped out of character. In another, perhaps this was who I really was.  All I knew was that I had become very attracted to a young man, Steve, who had been interested in me for nearly a year. When I say ‘interested’, I don’t mean that he did or said anything, but when he would look at me, his deep brown eyes would take in every move, every curve of my body. Sometimes, just for a moment, our eyes would meet and I would feel irresistibly drawn into a chiasmic pool of utter excitement. On one occasion, our bare arms accidentally touched, and I felt the warmth of his tender skin against mine. A fleeting thought went hurtling through my mind, and I wondered how the rest of his young, naked body would feel gently brushing up against mine. My cheeks flushed, and as quickly as the thought had appeared, the shame that followed took it away. His cheeky smile, with those full, sensual lips, beckoned a passionate response from mine. His whole body language told me that he adored me, he wanted me, and he intended to have me.

After the Snow White fiasco just a few weeks previously, my resistance to such charm was at an all time low. I suppose you could say we were flirting with each other. Rational thinking and morality were losing their hold on me. I could feel myself being pulled headlong towards someone who was totally devoted to me and whose thoughts were filled with adoration. There was no comparison with the familiar round of monotonous, unimaginative mattress dancing and the perpetual feeling of being taken for granted. My self-esteem was at an all time low, and my need to be valued, loved, and appreciated at an all time high. Well, what was a girl to do?

If I told you he was only twenty years old and a likable rogue, would that surprise you? What about his career? To date, it, had consisted of various low paying jobs with little or no prospects, but who’s interested in what someone does when they make you feel fabulous? Would you be shocked to learn he had a reputation for being a womaniser? He held captive those who watched him as he moved his lithe and toned body to the rhythmic beat on a dance floor, like a nineties version of John Travolta. Had my dancing been better, I could have been his Stephanie. His youth and fashionable dress sense enticed me into believing I could feel young again. I began to think that the responsibilities and weight that came automatically with marriage, children, and a career would lift in his presence.

And so, despite his dubious reputation, I realised that I was being totally drawn in by his compelling infatuation for me. It had been so long since anyone had seen me as a desirable and attractive woman that I could not control my emotions any longer. I realised I was falling in love with this youth’s passion for me. I longed to be held by a man whose whole being yearned for mine. The strength of my feelings was overwhelming. I found it was now impossible to resist any longer.

Steve appeared to have had no idea how I felt or how delicate my marriage was. And since his own plans were not working out as he had hoped, Steve made an earth shattering announcement. He had decided to move away to France to live and work with his brother, who had gone out there some years ago and now had a French wife and a family. I must admit, it sounded idyllic. From Steve’s perspective, a life in the French countryside would mean good wine, good food, and great French lovers!

At first I was devastated by his revelation. My fanciful thoughts and where they had taken me had come to a sudden stop. My dreams were not going to come true after all, and I wasn’t going to embark on an exquisitely pleasurable all-round excursion. (I use the term ‘all-round excursion’ because I intended to return, despite where the journey might have taken me.)

Then, a delectable, yet daring, thought came into my mind. Steve was leaving the country anyway, so what if I confided in him and revealed my true feelings? It would be our secret, a lovers’ secret. What harm could it do? He was moving away, a long way away. So what damage would be caused by one night of indulgence? One night of insatiable delight and rapture? After all, I would ne