He also enjoys another kind of night; those nights when I go out on the town by myself.
On those nights he doesn't know when, or even if, I will come home.
He doesn't know where I'll start or where I'll end up. He doesn't know what will happen.
He doesn't know who I will be with, or what I may do with them, or when we will be done.
He doesn't know anything. That can drive him even more crazy than when I'm out on a date with someone.
I like knowing that he's at home wondering about me. I know I'm the only person on his mind. I know that he's unable to think about anyone or anything else. No matter what I may doing, I know that he is only thinking about one thing: me. That's powerful medicine for anyone's ego.
I know he's fantasizing. Am I talking to someone? Meeting someone new? Going to their place? Bringing them home? Or could I already be sucking their cock or getting laid?
It doesn't always work out the way I hope, but sometimes I positively want to make something happen, so that his fantasies can come true. I want to get laid for his pleasure as much as my own. I want to go home late with another story that fuels our lust together.
I want to make sure his dreams never fade. I want images of me to keep flashing through his mind. I want him to wonder what I'm doing, and who I'm with. He needs those images and I need him to have them about me.
So I make sure he knows that he will never be safe from my infidelity whenever I go out alone. I will always be searching. Always looking for someone new. Always hunting that special place in the darkness. The darkness somewhere between my husband's imagination and that strange, new bedroom.
The darkness where I can spread my legs. The darkness where I will have sex again.