The taken woman

For one thing, you’re under no pressure to commit. You can have your cake, decorate it with cream and eat it too. You don’t have to justify your absences when your very presence requires more explanation.

Diane was happily married to a decent guy who was just a little dull. Apart from those weekends when she would say she was visiting her sister and we would delve deep into her sexual fantasies, she would return to him every night. I wasn’t jealous of him, because she cared for him in a different way. I felt sorry for him because he didn’t really know his wife.

He didn’t know for instance, that she enjoyed both dominating men and being dominated. He wouldn’t have believed it. He was a missionary position man. Once a month at most. That’s just asking for someone to filth your wife. And I like to think I can provide that kind of public service.

Whether I was pinning her down and nailing her without any of the subtleties or was tied to the bed and forced to pleasure her, she was in control. But although she had a husband, she couldn’t cope with the thought of me seeing other women, unless it was a woman she had selected and could watch as we made love.

The thing I love about being the ‘other man’ is that you don’t get any of that relationship stuff that we don’t really understand or care about. She is never going to ask – where are we going in this relationship? Partly because the answer would always be “to bed” or a similar horizontal surface.

You get her at her wildest, most uninhibited and expressive. You don’t have to go shopping with her, meet her parents or take the blame for unfathomable domestic crises.

“I’m not just a piece of meat, you know. I have feelings too,” I lied. I did wish she’d stop calling me “Sir Loin” though.