Day of The Dead
All's well that ends well… The problem? When it doesn't. Our affair was long over... yet when his Fiancee uncovered it all, her fresh wounds lead to irrational, psychotic behavior; it was hard not to smile; the irony so strong it hurt.
November 5, 2011
All's well that ends well… The problem? When it doesn't.
Our affair was long over... yet when his Fiancee uncovered it all, her fresh wounds lead to irrational, psychotic behavior; it was hard not to smile; the irony so strong it hurt.
The Fiancee put the 'Psycho' in psychotherapy... which just-so-happens to be her chosen field of study.
After countless furious emails and texts I was reaching my breaking point. After all, it's not my fault her Fiancee fell hard. Even though Halloween is over and finished, in Mexico it seemed the 'day of the dead' just wasn't ready to be put to rest.
Good luck party goers. I'm sure these fireworks will be memorable. Tread carefully though, as people who play with fire tend to get burned.
Two can play this game my dear and everyone knows that Chloe plays for keeps.
Eclipse: New Beginnings
I'm not sure anyone could ever understand how we can walk away from this, when it’s clear there is something beyond our conscious level of understanding that bonds us together.
Deborah Turbeville
August 1, 2011
And after that night, nothing would ever be the same.
I wish we'd recorded our conversation so I could replay every single moment of it. What we said was a testament of how deep our love was, how connected we truly were. It was a true example of what it means to fully understand and respect another human being.
I'm not sure anyone could ever understand how we can walk away from this, when it’s clear there is something beyond our conscious level of understanding that bonds us together.
But, I don't see this as walking away.
The last 2 hours were some of the most honest, incredible and powerful moments that I've been privileged to experience. What exists between us runs deeper than I think either of us will ever truly be able to understand in this lifetime.
I’m at peace, and it's not just because I've met HIM. I'm at peace because what we just shared is something that no matter whom we are with, we will always have.
These past few months you and I discovered things about ourselves; things we were only able to understand because of each other. And that is something so powerful and beautiful, that no one will ever be able to take away.
I don't view our conversation as a conclusion, but as a pivotal moment. One where time stood still and nothing else existed except what we share.
There is nothing to be sad about, nothing at all to mourn the loss of... Although what we had together was deeply moving and passionate, what we will have moving forward will be life-altering.
It’s my belief that we cannot get everything we truly need from just one person. And even though I cannot pinpoint what ‘it’ is we give each other, I have no intentions of letting our incredible connection and deep fundamental understanding of one another vanish.
No longer confined to this wrinkle, I am excited about where our new path will lead.
Come with me my dear friend; let us embark on this journey they call life. Let us be still in this beautiful moment with the knowledge that when we move beyond the confinement of our wrinkle, we will discover it can unfold into our lifeline.
All In Favour?
There are two types of extramarital adventures; ones that are about sex and ones are more like affairs. The difference? Sex.
July 8, 2010
There are two types of extramarital adventures; ones that are about sex and ones are more like affairs. The difference? Sex.
Monogamy has been the unintentional subject of most of my conversations lately; these conversations have taken place with women and surprisingly they do not seem to be in favor of it.
What has changed to make it acceptable for women to be open about not wanting to be with one man? Are women truly open, or is it something they disclose only in secret to their close and trusted friends?
If women and men both secretly crave physical and sexual encounters outside their committed relationship, why does society still look down on it; why are we shaming these people who know what they want and are not afraid to go get it?
The Photographer and I have quite the ideal situation. When I first began to see him my friends would ask, “don’t you feel bad for his wife?” My response was clear. No, I do not feel badly for her. If The Photographer actually ‘liked’ me he would call me to chat, he would want to go for dinner; he would want to go away with me. He doesn’t, he just wants to have sex.
Well, okay. Not JUST sex, amazing sex; mind-blowing sex. The kind the makes your toes curl, gets you instantly turned on, tingling, aching for more. For me, The Photographer is NOT cheating on his wife; he is NOT having an affair. He is just having sex and that does not make him a bad person. He is careful (minus those steamy videos he cannot bring himself to delete) that The Wife will never know.
There is something about the camera that gets me turned on. Maybe it takes me back to the days before I moved back to New York where we would both lay in bed naked, on I Chat and watch each other get off. I loved knowing that he would watch them later and get off on us. I loved watching them later myself.
The Photographer won’t get caught because he doesn’t want to. The Editor on the other hand, now that is a different story…
The Next Fix
It’s not necessarily that the grass looks greener; it’s just that you want to know what it feels like under your feet. Who dictates right and wrong in a relationship? Who sets the standard for what is acceptable and what can sustain a relationship over time?
June 1, 2010
It’s not necessarily that the grass looks greener; it’s just that you want to know what it feels like under your feet. Who dictates right and wrong in a relationship? Who sets the standard for what is acceptable and what can sustain a relationship over time?
We live in a world of quick fixes and instant gratification. How does the old model of marriage and relationships fit into this modern world? I have grown up in a generation of people that want it all and want it all right now. Why are the relationship expectations of the general public today still very close to what they were some 80 years ago?
I don’t think it makes you a bad person for wanting sex and wanting sex with more than one person for the rest of your married (committed) life; wanting a new thrill every now and then.
There is nothing like the rush of a fling, whether you are married or single. The urgency one feels when your lips finally touch after aching to feel each other. The way his hands slide up your legs; your nails dig into his shoulder as you push your hips against him. It is pure desire, full of silent temptations.
Who says you cannot truly love and care for someone while desiring another physically? There is nothing like the sexual rush of being with someone your entire body craves, so why must we choose between love and lust? I do believe that what you don’t know cannot hurt you.
Maybe I am being idealistic... After all I grew up in a generation that wants it all. And preferably right now.
Crazy For You
Sex is a powerful thing. People tend to get lost in it; they confuse it for love or a relationship. It has always been a strength of mine knowing how far I can throw people. With The Photographer it had been strictly sex from day one and things were about to get crazy.
May 17, 2010
Sex is a powerful thing. People tend to get lost in it; they confuse it for love or a relationship. It has always been a strength of mine knowing how far I can throw people. With The Photographer it had been strictly sex from day one and things were about to get crazy.
I was living outside of New York and jonesing for a fix. Our scandalous affair could only sustain through texts and web cam for so long. I wanted to push us sexually, push myself sexually. He hopped on a plane and I invited a friend.
The Photographer arrived at my apartment and we could barely make it in the door. His kiss was deep his hands cold on my naked flesh. I had missed that kiss, those hands; I had ached for them, fantasized about them. He was instantly hard and he lifted my legs around his waist and took me to my bed.
He removed my coat slowly untying the closure. He pulled it off my shoulders and kissed my neck. His hands pulled back the thick fabric and revealed the tight black corset that was binding me. His eyes lit up and his lips traced down my neck onto the tops of my breasts. I kissed his ear, slowly sliding my tongue inside while reaching down and unzipping his pants.
I pushed him by his shoulders until he was flat on the bed. He moaned as I licked him through his underwear and massaged his thighs with my hands. Using only my teeth, I got him naked. He was rock hard and I was so excited to feel him in my mouth, taste every inch of him. I devoured him until he begged me to stop.
The Photographer was beyond hot and I straddled his face and forced him to lick me. I loved the way his tongue made little circles over me. He would slide the tip of his tongue inside me and I'd beg for more; he knew how to drive me wild.
I lowered my body down onto him, teasing him until neither of us could handle it. We lay there breathless. My heart was pounding in my chest, a bead of sweat rolled down my back. I had cum so hard it made my head spin. All I could think about was later; I'd never had a threesome before and I was aching to try it.
Take It Like A Man
A good fuck buddy is hard to find, impossible to deny and difficult to train; one should always be able to count on him. My fuck buddy seemed to be flaking… It appeared he had forgot his small role in my very active life and I made it my mission to remind him the only way I knew how. Denial.
April 27, 2010
A good fuck buddy is hard to find, impossible to deny and difficult to train; one should always be able to count on him. My fuck buddy seemed to be flaking… It appeared he had forgot his small role in my very active life and I made it my mission to remind him the only way I knew how. Denial.
It has been almost 2 years since our delicious affair began and The Photographer was in need of a refresher; when I want you, I get to have you. After MONTHS of avoidance, I felt he was punished enough; that and I was itching to be taken. I messaged him to meet me the next day, I had an hour and if he ever wanted to see me again he would meet me at his studio.
Midtown is a true nightmare; I walked passed the construction zone and climbed the steps to his building. It is virtually impossible to walk down the street without being accosted by the pathetic men who eye me up and down. His apartment is letter F and I laughed to myself, as all we ever seem to do there is fuck.
The Photographer opened the door and smiled, the same devilish grin across his lips. He immediately tried to kiss me; I pulled back. I let him run his hands over my body, let him kiss my neck. He was getting hard and when he pushed up against me I could feel every inch. I wanted him immediately. I wanted him to grab my shoulders, push me down onto his desk and take me right there; instead I walked across the room, letting him eye me, ache for me.
I tossed my purse onto the chair and he came up behind me, turning me around to face him. I kissed him, letting him taste every inch of my tongue; feel every second of what he had been missing. I got down on my knees and unbuttoned his jeans, he was getting harder by the minute. Taking the tip of him in my mouth I teased him with my tongue before devouring every inch. He could barely stand and forced me to stop.
He pushed me down onto the couch and pulled my dress up around my waist. I loved what he did with his tongue. He licked and sucked on me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have him. I straddled him, slowing lowering myself onto him. I fucked him hard. He begged me to stop; he couldn’t contain himself. He came so hard, it was amazing to watch, moaning and pulling me in even closer as he let go. After he came, I continued to fuck him until I was ready to let go.
I rolled over on the couch barely able to breathe. He started to say something and I put my finger to my lips, “Shhh..” I whispered. He smiled and laughed, “I forgot you hate to talk after sex, you are just like a man.”
I closed my eyes and smiled, I was like a man; even though we had just finished fucking, I could hardly wait until the morning when I would be fucking someone else.
Caught Empty Handed
In this game called life there are rules. When you break those rules you must heed the consequences, even if you haven’t done anything wrong. Yet.
April 21, 2010
In this game called life there are rules. When you break those rules you must heed the consequences, even if you haven’t done anything wrong. Yet.
After a meeting at The Core Club with a very dear friend, we stood outside and I took a hit from the joint we were sharing. I love the way a couple hits just relaxes my entire body. We strolled down Park Avenue heading to Monkey Bar for a much-desired cocktail.
Just as the last bit of Belvedere hit my tongue it was time to leave. With no real plans I decided to head to Balthazar, my go-to-spot, to see if someone wanted to buy me dinner.
I sat at the bar sipping Chablis; considering it was 9PM there were loads of geriatrics still kicking around. When I grew tired of avoiding the way-too-old men who continuously tried to invoke conversation, I spotted an opening beside a handsome suit near the end of the bar. Chablis in hand I strolled over and sat down next to him.
Finance Guy was well styled, in a sharp pinstripe suit that was cut to perfection. I would have expected nothing less from someone in his field who is hip enough to live in SOHO and savvy enough to still have his job (it was 2009). Drinks and food flowed, along with our witty banter. I couldn’t help but notice the very shiny ring on a certain finger.
How is it that a married man was able to go out alone on a weeknight? To say the least I was impressed; the married men I see can barely check their mobiles with out fear of getting caught, let alone pick-up girls on a random Tuesday! Turns out he was much less impressive than I had imagined. His wife was out with her girlfriend; he was supposed to be in France but due to a certain volcanic ash incident, he found himself at dinner with me. Ever the gentleman, he insisted on buying my dinner and then suggested we go to The Crosby for some bubbly.
The bartender topped up our second glass of fizz; his knee was beginning to accidentally graze mine as the alcohol worked its way into our systems. All of a sudden, a look of sheer panic struck his face, “my wife, that’s my wife…” An angry brunette was charging towards us. It was almost more than I could handle.
“What is going on here,” she demanded, staring back and forth not sure which one of us to take her rage out on.
I reached over and extended my hand, “You must be Finance Guy’s wife, I have heard so much about you, I’m Chloe”. I smiled and she shot me a look of death before announcing to whoever would listen that THEY were leaving. Finance Guy, now white as a ghost, threw down money for our drinks and proceeded to be dragged into the night.
The entire thing was simply too much; I couldn’t help but laugh. With two half empty flutes in front of me there was only one thing to do. I downed mine, followed by his. It seemed to me that a certain financier would most definitely be sleeping on the couch.
Dynamic Duo
Someone once told me that anticipation is the most exciting part of an affair; that each moment leading up to the deviant acts are often the most seductive. I understood what he meant, but after meeting The Editor, I must beg to differ.
April 15, 2010
Someone once told me that anticipation is the most exciting part of an affair; that each moment leading up to the deviant acts are often the most seductive. I understood what he meant, but after meeting The Editor, I must beg to differ.
I stood at his door; my black woven hat and signature Ray Bans kept my identity elusive to his neighbors; you never know who is watching. There was something about the way he looked at me, it was more than I could handle. As we walked up to his apartment he couldn’t help but grab my ass, using his hands to outline my hips and waist, practically kissing my ankles with each step I took. The sexual energy between us was like nothing I have ever experienced. It was like we were made to fuck each other.
He moved his hands over my firm, round breasts. He was getting thick inside his pants and I loved knowing that it was all for me. I reached down and felt him hardening. He moved his lips down my neck, hands sliding down my shoulders and onto my lower back. The way he touched me, looked at me; no one has made me feel sexier.
He threw me down onto the couch and began to trace his fingers over my inner-thighs, while pushing up my skirt to reveal my incredibly sexy lace Agent Provocateur thong. His tongue worked me through the silk lace before he ripped them off. The Editor knew exactly what to do to make me moan, which is what I did when he pushed his tongue deep inside me.
I wanted to taste him so desperately; pushing him away from me I got on me knees. I pulled down his jeans to reveal his amazing erection. Using my tongue I slowly began to pull him into my mouth until he couldn’t stand it anymore. I devoured every inch of him until he was about to lose his mind. He lifted me onto the couch and slid deep inside me, sending shivers throughout my body. The way he felt inside me was like no other.
Pinned underneath him, I was at his mercy and I loved it. Alternating between taking me hard and then slow, he had me past the point of no return. I grabbed his shoulders pressing my nails in deep and begged him to let me get on top.
I teased him, rubbing against him, letting him feel how wet he had me. When I couldn’t take it any longer I pushed down onto him. I took him hard until I couldn’t stop, then I let go completely. The Editor looked so good, felt so good; when he led me to the bedroom for more I could not wait to see what he had in mind.
Not-So Secret Seduction
It’s really not what you say, but how you say it. I have always been quite the linguist, especially when it comes to seduction. When I showed up at the private club for drinks, Lawyer Guy could tell that I was there for one thing and one thing only. And seduction is one game that I never lose.
April 14, 2010
It’s really not what you say, but how you say it. I have always been quite the linguist, especially when it comes to seduction. When I showed up at the private club for drinks, Lawyer Guy could tell that I was there for one thing and one thing only. And seduction is one game that I never lose.
He seemed surprised that I had agreed to meet him and his friends alone, especially knowing he was married. I laughed as I downed my second glass of bubbly, if he only knew how deviant I truly was. I could tell he was impressed and surprised. I took great pleasure watching him feel me out, seeing how he became more turned on at my every word. His eyes focused on my lips and my breasts, he shuddered as I slid my hand into his thigh while playfully laughing at our conversation.
The sexual energy was electric; the club began to fill up and we found ourselves sneaking away to the bar for more drinks. We were half out of sight when he pulled me into him. His kiss was desperate, his lips begging to be licked and sucked. I tilted my head back and he moved his tongue down my neck while his hands grabbed my ass pulling me close. He was painfully hard and I knew he wanted to take all of me.
Lawyer Guy was very turned on and it became clear that he was not worried about his friends seeing us. It was hot knowing they were secretly watching out of the corner of their eyes. He pulled me into the dark hallway, sliding his hands over my firm breasts, flicking my hard nipples. I was completely wet and aching for him. He pushed open the door to the bathroom and pinned me against the wall with one hand, turning the lock with the other.
I continued to kiss him while undoing his pants. I reached down and exposed his massive erection; I was aching to taste every inch. I took him in my mouth and licked and sucked him, working him with my hands at the same time. He was about to explode when he forced me to stop. He pushed my dress up over my hips, pulling my panties to the side. He devoured me, made me cum as he pushed his fingers into me while sucking on my clit.
We were both breathless and wanting more. We exited the bathroom; the waiter standing gave us a knowing smile. We’d been at it so long the club had closed. As he put me into a taxi we kissed once more and the cab sped downtown. I could hardly wait to finish what we had just started.
The Art of The Affair
An affair is a dance. There is a specific way things are done and handled. It provides him with enough security so he will not get caught, while at the same time taking just the right amount of risk to keep things interesting. Or so I had thought.
April 11, 2010
An affair is a dance. There is a specific way things are done and handled. It provides him with enough security so he will not get caught, while at the same time taking just the right amount of risk to keep things interesting. Or so I had thought.
Ralph Lauren Guy lived in D.C. and when we had both returned home from the weekend of festivities we found ourselves desperately wanting more. Dirty texts kept us going but before long there were late night calls. Him, describing how delightful it was to be deep inside me; how crazy I drove him when I worked him with my tongue. Me, fantasizing about him laying me down, sliding his hand up my dress; his lips pressed against mine while I could feel him getting rock hard at the mere thought of being inside me.
It wasn’t long before either of us could take it. Friday, he flew in to the city and like the gentleman he was invited me to dinner. He was truly terrible, as when I arrived for dinner we were not alone. I sat there with him and his friends in a chic Meatpacking District restaurant. He was cocky and I loved it. Very bold to invite the girl you’re sleeping with to dinner with friends. Clearly he liked to show off.
At dinner he did everything I desired. Slid his hands up my skirt, pushed his fingers inside me, making me gasp. I reached over and felt how hard he was. It was every ounce of willpower not to take him right then and there. I ached to wrap my legs around his waist, unzip his jeans and force him inside of me.
His friend sat across the table from me and I could tell he was aching to get involved. He kept looking me up and down; he was most interested. We left dinner and headed to a near by bar. The friend got us in right away, private table, the usual.
When Ralph Lauren Guy seemed distracted The Friend slid his arm around my waist. He leaned in close so his breath was tickling my neck. If I had doubted it before, it was clear; he wanted me. He told me I was beautiful and that he had to have me. I told him I was going home with Ralph Lauren Guy, but he didn’t seem to care. He placed his hand on my firm ass and told me to call him once Ralph Lauren Guy headed home.
After several more glasses of champagne Ralph Lauren Guy and I could barely keep our hands to ourselves. We jumped into a cab and sped up 8th Avenue towards his hotel. The second the elevator doors closed he grabbed me, pulling me in. He kissed me and I could feel him hard against me. We were practically naked by the time the door to his room shut. On my knees, I took him in my mouth and made him cum. He pushed me by my shoulders into the king sized bed. Lifting my leg up as he undid the straps on my bronze Miu Miu shoes. He kissed my ankle, then worked his way up to my inner thighs. My red Agent Provocateur lace panties were completely soaked and I begged him to slide inside me.
We fucked like it was the last time we might ever get to and I came again and again. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I awoke in sheer panic as I had overslept my flight to Paris.
Mr. & Mrs. Sexuality
Sex is just sex. It just means I am hungry for you and you for me. People take sex way too seriously; they think by having it or talking about it, somehow makes YOU a bad person. I for one am sick of it and have finally met someone who gets it.
March 30, 2010
Sex is just sex. It just means I am hungry for you and you for me. People take sex way too seriously; they think by having it or talking about it, somehow makes YOU a bad person. I for one am sick of it and have finally met someone who gets it.
The Editor kissed me deeply his lips warming up my mouth. His skin was soft and his body, smoking hot. I lifted his worn in t-shirt and kissed his stomach using my teeth to pull at the waistband of his pants. He lifted me onto the sofa, laying me down over the giant pillows. His hands pushed up the silky fabric of my dress to reveal my Dolce and Gabbana leopard print lace thong. He was hungry and eager to taste me.
He pressed his lips into the lace and breathed deep before tickling me with his tongue. He teased me until I couldn’t stand it and then pulled my panties down to my ankles. His hands slid up my soft legs and his fingers flicked me, feeling how wet he had me. His eyes were checking out my every curve and he seemed very pleased with what he saw. The Editor devoured me until I lost my mind, which wasn’t very long as not only was he an expert, but the anticipation from the past week had taken a rather large toll. He had me on the ground facing him, both of us on our knees. I leaned into him, biting and kissing his neck while he places his hand underneath me to feel how soaking wet I was.
His pants slid to the ground as he pulled me inward by my ankles. His smile was killer; I could tell he was going to take his sweet time enjoying my every last drop. He dropped my ass down over the edge of the couch and slid inside me. Both of us moaned so loud I think the entire neighborhood could hear we were in ecstasy. He came so hard, then lead me to his room; throwing me down on the soft bed he had a mischievous grin on his lips. He loved the idea of taking me in the same bed that just a few hours prior he and his wife were in and I loved that he was so hot for me.
He continued to make me scream in all the best ways, before we both realized time was escaping us. As for someone who gets what sex is really all about, it is safe to say that The Editor nailed it (all puns wildly intended).