An Armored Hip-Hopping Adulteress
By: Wistful Writer
Tags: Heart, This Happened To Me, Cheating, The Bad Influence, Life

I have an armor…

My armor, the sex goddess one. The bold, pussy driven, practical, mysterious, desirable woman armor…It’s my weapon, my protection.

My shield….needed for the life I lead.

Cheater Life, that is what I am called (I hate that word though), I am more of a survivor of life, an adulterer.

I like to think of myself as the toughened thick-skinned bitch, who knows to keeps emotions at bay and is all about fulfilling her sexual needs… Coz that's what is major missing at home (in addition to all emotional connection).

It's been three years and some since I embarked on this journey, this path…of seeking sexual freedom, the fulfillment of every physical desire I have, feeling like a sex goddess, empowered and the sexy kind of evil (In short the exact opposite to what I am made to feel like at home).

Yes, I mean the path of cheating, sin, debauchery, lust, depravity, immorality, and whatever other words apply to it.

But here's the thing, as this fucked up year ends, just like everyone else, there is one thing I have had an excess of…. time. Time to take stock, evaluate, and contemplate. What I learned about myself doesn't fit too well into the self-portrait I have tried to paint…(for others to see and probably for me to believe as well.)

These thoughts make me uncomfortable.

I have been a fool, creating an illusion. Or should I say, I have been trying to fool…mostly my own self. Trying to convince the few people who are close enough to me, that this is indeed who I am.

A woman who is driven only by her pussy, sexual needs, with maybe a sprinkling of some emotion thrown in. Someone who can transition from one lover to another with ease, someone who needs mostly physical gratification. That being her number one priority.

Everything else such as love, emotions, connection….deemed irrelevant. The truth is farthest from this though…

I am just gonna pour it all out here — Full Disclosure…

I have never had two lovers at the same time

I mean having two lovers along the same timeline, two-timing or whatever one might call it. It somehow has never occurred to me…ever. I have had chances, oh I would say plenty…to have one bird in each hand and many more in the bush.

But I am somehow unable to function that way. I tried, but I couldn't follow through. I know I might appear as a loser to the rest of my adulterer tribe, but am just being honest here…almost feeling confessional.

Sorry to disappoint friends!! Lame Adulteress….Pathetic really.

Turns out I am a one-man woman…for whatever time period that is. Sadly that… is most often not in my control.

I am a sucker for connection

I get sucked into the vortex of eye contact and small gestures. His touch on my neck, his hand on my wrist. The way he says my name, the way he looks at me when climaxing, and the way he knows exactly what to write in texts, sweet nothings.

I fall, fast and hard, latching on to each small grain of affection, the hungry wolf that I am. Starved, emaciated…I devour it all.

I know, it’s dangerous, risky, leading to eventual pain. But I live on the edge, teetering between wanting to jump in headfirst or just happily dipping one toe at a time.

Only thing is, I know how not to fall off. Coz I have been there, done that. Swam ashore alone, a couple of times…have become a strong swimmer now. Against the tides as well…the tides of heartache.

And most importantly, I know not to let it show…how hard I fall. That is only for me to know and suffer through, coz it most inevitably is always that…bittersweet suffering.

So what keeps me going back for more, finding new lovers, searching all over again and again, for the same thing?

One would think it is the most primitive human need, the one for physical satisfaction which drives most, and I did believe that was what drove me as well. Until I discovered (actually, I always knew but just didn't want to admit it, coz yes it sucks), it all boils down to the fucking heart. The perennial need for emotional connection, to be seen, to have someone take care of my needs, mental, and what eventually should follow naturally from all of that…physical.

I am a Hip-Hop dancer

Sadly, the basic ritual, this dance has reversed its steps in today's times. What used to start as a beautiful slow dance of courtship, promenade, and then mating, has now become a straightforward hip-hop* of mating, completely skipping the first couple of steps.

Especially for people in my situation, the sexless married ones. Plenty of us out there, right? We are stuck, many of us here in our homes, our family lives. We have our reasons, completely valid to us (maybe not to the critics) for not leaving. And so we cannot possibly dance…we need to skip to the hip-hop*, directly. It's like no time for appetizers, straight to dessert. Sad and not very fulfilling actually, but for most of us, it is either this or nothing.

That doesn't mean we don't have a heart. I wouldn't dare to speak for all of us here, but I know who I am…

I am a fool, an emotional romantic fool

Strangely hopeful, but full of hopeless despair at the same time. I am gutsy, I take risks, I put myself out there and try to make the best of this situation I am in. I try to steal tiny crumbs of happiness, love, and connection from wherever I can and store them.

To feed my starving heart and soul, when they are fatigued and refuse to go on…

I will keep finding new lovers, leaving the ones who need me to be more than I can, or be left by the ones who I manage to scare off by accidentally showing them the inside of my heart…(happens you know, in weak moments, my armor has chinks).

I don my armor. Every time I go see the current man in my life to hip-hop with or when I have to go seeking a new dance partner. I am doing it, using my armor to protect my emotional, vulnerable real self. And so far, it has worked…or maybe I am wrong. Maybe I am crumbling, falling, letting too much of my heart show.

Whoa, that feels scary!!… but maybe I should just jump in, enough of the teetering? (Who the fuck knows anyways, even my therapist is confused, lol)

I thought I was some female terminator kind of a creature, ruthlessly ravaging all in her path for her own pleasure and moving on effortlessly. But turns out once that armor suit comes off there is a colossal mess…phew.

I might continue this hip-hop, or find a different path to travel on…preferably one which needs no armor. (Hah see, I am delusional again…but dreaming is allowed right.)…Right.

Meanwhile, I have to repair the chinks in my armor…and then go hip-hop.

*(Hip-hop — I found it apt to use, coz what I am referring to has ample use of hips and hops, the latter being optional, fun though if you do it right.)