I have read many of these bar conversation stories and liked them. However, I think they were always from the man’s point of view. I thought I would try my hand at it from the woman’s point of view. Not being female I may have missed the mark. In any case, I hope you enjoy the quick read.

Once again Carol found herself sitting at a bar sipping a Manhattan thinking about all the other times she had done the same thing and wishing things were different. Her coworker Lisa, a new employee, just took the seat beside her. Nothing was said other than the casual hello acknowledging her presence. Carol watched as Lisa would play with her wedding band on her slender finger as she snuck a wanting glance to her left looking in the distance. Carol, following her glance, observed the young handsome man across the room also casually sneak a glance back at Lisa. This cat and mouse game played on for some time until Carol spoke up.

“Don’t do it”.

“Excuse me?”

“I said don’t do it”.

Frustrated Lisa replied “Don’t do what? I don’t know what you are talking about?”

“Don’t cheat”.

“Oh my god! Where do you come off saying something like that?”

“I know what you are doing and I know what you are thinking. I’m telling you don’t do it.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. How can you accuse me of wanting to cheat! Just like you, I came down here for a drink. That’s all.”

“I know you are alone on the road all the time. I know that hunk of a guy over there has been hitting on you all day and he is not the first. I know you are frustrated and thinking about how good it would be to get together with him just for a night. I know you think no one will know or find out so no big deal, right? I know right now you were wishing I wasn’t here so he would come over and take my seat.”

“You’re wrong”

“Am I? If I get up right now and leave he will be here in a minute. He will start up some idle chitchat; buy you a drink and maybe dinner. Before you know it you’re in his room for just one more drink or maybe he just offers to walk you to your room. Either way tomorrow morning you will be doing the walk of shame from his room to yours. At some point, the guilt will leave and you will have a very contented smile on your face looking forward to the next time. And trust me, there will be a next time.”

“You’re crazy! I love my husband and I would never cheat.”

“That’s what we all say”

‘Oh, is that right? And what makes you such an expert?”

“Tell you what. Give me time to tell you my story and when I am done I will leave and the decision is yours to make. Deal?”

Lisa again glances over to the young man, sees him give a smile back, again twists the ring on her finger, and says “Deal”.

Here is Carol’s story.

“I had been happily married to Peter Whilham for 23 years and thought I was living a dream. Peter is a very loving and caring man. He gave me all I could ask for and I never wanted for anything. Anything, that is except to experience sex with another man. But I am getting a bit ahead of myself.

I am one of five children of Jane and David Jackson. My parents met working in a factory in Lowell, MA. After a short courting, my father proposed to my mother and they were wed. According to my mother, it was in their first year of marriage that my dad made the announcement that he enlisted in the Air Force and he was off to basic. Her upbringing had taught her that it was the wife’s duty to be supportive of her husband and as much as being in the service frightened her, it was the time of Vietnam, and she reluctantly became a service wife.

My dad had a travel bug. As often as he could, he would volunteer for duty anywhere at any time. As a result the family moved about every two years. They moved to Taiwan, Guam, and several U.S. states. Each of us was born in a different state or country! We were what we jokingly referred to as “Air Force Brats”. Because of all the moves none of us really had time to establish any true friendships. We were always the new kid in school and on base we had new neighbors all of the time. That was bad enough but when we hit the formidable teen years that also meant we never dated. So while other girls in their late teens experienced dating and puppy love and even “petting” in the back seat, I experienced none.

It wasn’t until my dad was stationed at Pease Air Force Base in New Hampshire that things finally settled down. He decided that being back in New England was home so he retired from the service and bought a small home in Durham, NH. Durham is a college town, home of The University of New Hampshire. It was there that I met my to be husband, Peter.

Peter and I met quite by accident. There was no big party or friends that set us up. It was just two people who saw each other often on campus. Somehow our schedules just aligned where if I were studying in the library I would see him or if I was in line for coffee he was also there. It was just these random but frequent sightings. It was mid-year freshman year that he finally had the nerve to approach me and start a conversation. It was love at first sight for both of us. We shared our past and found that our lives to that point couldn’t have been more different. I described my travels and the constant moves and how I was so close to my brothers and sisters and he shared how he rarely left the state and how his family and cousins all lived within miles of each other. My first holiday spent with Peter was overwhelming! There were so many relatives all in one place! My past holidays had always been with just my immediate family or one of my dad’s service friends who had no place else to go. When our family’s finally met his side was shocked and would laugh at how we all addressed them as “Sir” or “Mam”. Old habits are tough to break.

Pete and I married right after graduation. He took a job teaching at the High School in Portsmouth, NH and I found a job in Manchester, NH working at a company specializing in setting up and coordinating trade shows. My department was simply called “Marketing Support” and my role was to work with each location, generally, a convention Center or a large Hotel, to secure the date and then travel to that location arriving on a Friday morning to ensure everything that was supposed to be available was available. The remainder of the weekend was supervising the setup crew, making certain any literature or displays had arrived. I would stay that Monday morning to make certain that the event kicked off without a hitch and then I would leave later that day. When the events were in Boston or New York I would drive so I was always home later that same day. When the events were farther away like San Diego, Los Angeles, or Chicago my departure on Thursday or Arrival on Monday or Tuesday a.m. all depended on the flights.

At the beginning of the marriage, my travel was not concerning, as Pete understood I was just starting out and I really couldn’t dictate the schedule. We also would try and leverage some of these trips as a mini-vacation. When Pete could get the time off he would travel with me especially if it was someplace warm and things in New England were cold and snowy. But as the years progressed and we wanted to start a family something had to change.

It was the third year when I approached my manager and explained that I needed to cut back my travel. It wasn’t like I was not appreciative of the work and I was not threatening to leave but something had to change. To my surprise, she was very supportive. I don’t know if it was because she had a similar situation in her past or if she was just sympathetic to my needs. She was able to make some changes to staffing and the end result was that I would cover the more “important” clients, which would mean traveling only once a month, while others could cover the remainder. She had been thinking it was time for some of the newer hires to take on some additional responsibilities so my request was the catalyst to make it happen.

So anyway, with the reduced travel schedule we felt it was time to start our family. Both Pete and I must have been very fertile as our son was born just nine months later. We had always used a condom, as I was afraid of the Pill. I didn’t want any extra chemicals in me and honestly Pete liked condoms. He said that little bit of separation from skin contact affected the sensitivity just enough to allow him to last longer yet not enough to ruin the experience. I didn’t care because when the advertisement had said ribbed for her pleasure they weren’t kidding. So with no delay in waiting for the pill to wear off, I swear we conceived that first night. Because I didn’t want to be a stay at home mom and expense wise we could only afford one child in daycare we waited until our son was in Kindergarten before we tried again. Kindergarten was half day so the cost of one child in daycare half the time would allow us to have a second child in daycare full time. So four years later we were blessed with a daughter.

Our life continued like a storybook tale. Peter continued to teach and I continued to do this job and we raised two wonderful children in our little house with the picket fence and the customary dog.”

“So your life was perfect. Where is this going,” said Lisa with a bit of annoyance in her voice?

“I’m getting there. So just like you, I was young and if I don’t mind saying so, attractive. I was constantly on the road and constantly hit on. I too said I would never cheat, as I loved my husband. But I still always had a feeling that I married too young. After so many years of hearing the stories from other women, some good and some bad, I felt I had missed out on so much. I never dated a lot and never experienced much. Pete was my first and only. I am not just talking about sex. It’s true I was a virgin when I met Pete. He was the first sexual partner I ever had and he had to teach me everything. Until I went to college I never had a guy make any move on me. My sex was limited to some making out in a dorm room and only two guys ever had my bare breasts. A little fingering here and there and I gave one guy a handjob. It was so bad I think I rubbed him raw! I was so scared and embarrassed all the time I would end the date and run home and cry.

But then I met Pete and he was so gentle and kind somehow that made me feel comfortable enough to start a relationship. He never pressured me and over the next few years, he taught me to be a good lover. At the time that was all I wanted and all I needed.

But like I said I still had someplace in the back of my mind that I missed out on something special. The dating, the courting, the chase, it was all missing. And yes, sex with different partners. On nights like this on trips sitting around a table with the girls I would hear of getting fucked or making love. The dancing and how some guys would compete for their attention. Some would tell stories how they targeted a guy and how they finally won him over and then after the conquest send him packing. I wanted so badly to experience those things, both good and bad.

But I didn’t cheat. There were two big reasons why I held out. The first was Pete. I loved Pete and I didn’t want to see him hurt. I didn’t care about what I would lose in a divorce as a house and money are all just material possessions that could be replaced. What I feared the most was the betrayal. Pete loved me more than life itself so for me to crush him by betraying his trust would kill me. To have him think less of me or to think he wasn’t man enough for me was devastating. The second was my children. I wanted them to grow up in a home with a mother and father. If I divorced Pete to go out and experience what I felt was missing would mean we would end up sharing the kids. Whoever got full custody wouldn’t matter as we would still see the kids. But I had no desire to be a part-time mom or have Pete only get visitation rights. Just the sound of that phrase visitation rights sounds so clinical and unloving.”