Dave wasn’t home, thank Christ, when I got there. I became increasingly sick of the guilt and the secrecy for a diminishing return. It’s quite bizarre, thinking back on it, but I was kind of proud of my efforts at concealment and not having anyone to brag to about it was a little frustrating. Then I had a brilliant idea. I could tell Wendy about it. Taking the walkabout phone and sitting where I could see Dave return, I rang her. She was thrilled at my news and we compared notes about our lovers. I was a little jealous she had a husband that knew and accepted her lover, but she agreed that telling my Dave would be a very bad move. I rang off when I saw Dave arriving about an hour later.
I felt bad that the Saturday meetings with John were cutting into my weekends with Dave, so from then until our overnight trips resumed, I stuck to ‘working late’ during the week. The guilt never did diminish.
The next near disaster happened a couple of weeks later. I was ‘working late’ and we’d only been at the restaurant across town from my place about half an hour. Our meals hadn’t even arrived. As usual, I hadn’t had anything to drink. It made my defences weak and increased the chances of John getting through them if he wanted something I didn’t. He was still nagging me about anal. I was just returning from the bathroom, when I glanced at the maitre d’s desk. There was Dave checking in. Terrified, I retreated back to the bathroom. Luckily, I’d brought my phone so I rang John. When Dave was being led to a table, I snuck out. I’d travelled with John this time, so I had to wait until he could pay and escape as well. It was terrifying, even John was rattled. Dave catching us could have led to his wife finding out about our affair.
He recovered quickly, though, and stunned me by suggesting that as Dave wasn’t home, we could use my bed. The thought of that obviously really excited him. I wondered why but turned him down flat. He then suggested a motel but I was nowhere near in the mood for that so asked him to take me back to my car in the office carpark. He didn’t let me get away scot free though. He absolutely insisted I blow him in his car once we reached work. As I had no way to clean up, I reluctantly swallowed. Yuck! It was one of the least romantic things I’d ever done.
From then on, restaurants were out. That marked a major drop in the quality of my experience with John. By going to a restaurant first, I could at least pretend I was in control and sit there deciding if John was going to score or not. I lost that when we just met at a motel. I stalled John for the next two weeks. He responded by slowly withdrawing his attention at work.
In fact, the next time was unusual enough to rekindle the magic a little. With the financial year over, it was my job to organise the office party where bonuses would be handed out. I’d typed them all up and knew there wasn’t one for me. I’d only been there a few months, after all. Everyone left work early to get changed for the party that started at 7:30p.m. John had suggested I bring a change of clothes to work so I didn’t have to go home. The reason why became clear when he whisked me off to a room at the classiest hotel in town. The venue of the party. Once there, he ripped my clothes off and just did me. He obviously missed me which was extremely flattering.