Chapter One.

I was scrolling through Tumbler the other day and I stumbled on a confession page. There were people, all anonymously, giving confessions of some of their dirtiest and kinkiest deeds. It was interesting because they were all confessing about things that they have done that were not particularly nice or very much taboo.

The things that they had done were almost all things that would end their marriages if their spouse knew. Lots of affairs or homosexual experiments and things that they had done while under the influence of drugs or alcohol that they would never do in their normal lives.

The thing that made me most interested though was the fact that all these people didn't really regret their decision to do these things. In some ways they were revelling in the ability to tell the world exactly what they did without the fear of being caught out, bragging almost. The other thing that surprised me was just how much it turned me on to read some of the things they had done.

I was really intrigued by it because I have my own story to tell but I never thought I would be sharing it with anyone, ever. My own nasty little tale of debauchery is one that I know I should feel ashamed of, but to be honest, like these other storytellers, I feel very little remorse.

So, with some trepidation, and a certain sense of “me too,” I began to write my own confession.

Chapter Two.

You could say I have a bit of a predicament. I'm happily married, well sort of, well I'm married anyway and before all this started I thought I was happy. I love my kids and surprisingly, given all you are about to read, I do still love my husband Geoff but after these events, that has changed.

We are fortunate enough to have a comfortable, middle-class life. We certainly aren't wealthy, only one car, no swimming pool and an average three bedroom home on a standard suburban block. We are however fortunate enough to have a reliable car, we will have finished paying off our own home in the next couple of years and my husband has a steady job and income.

We aren't poor but we have been close enough from time to time to recognize it and appreciate what we have. We have two teenage kids and they lead very busy lives. We made a decision early on in our relationship that, although it would be nice to have that second income, being home and available for the kids was more important. Knowing they weren't coming home to an empty house and having healthy home-cooked meals was important to us.

Being older teenagers means that our son now has his license and a car that he worked hard to save for and our daughter isn't too far behind him. As a result of their busy schedules and new found freedom, they aren't home anywhere near as much as they were a year ago. Sometimes it feels more like I'm in the way than available for them.

My husband and I have had the same routine for years now and although things haven't really changed for him, I have been finding my routine less and less fulfilling. I doubt Geoff, my husband, would know how to cope if his routine were to change. Things that used to fill my day to the point of not having enough time were now over and done with by ten in the morning. I was slowly but surely becoming very bored with my life.

I tried joining in with other groups that my friends were involved with but I couldn't believe just how boring things like book clubs were. I needed something more but I had no idea what I wanted. I was beginning to think I was doomed to a life of boredom once both the kids were at college.

This all begins around the time my son, Jerome, was getting ready to move off to college. The end of summer was only about two months away. My daughter, Beth, would follow suit next summer. I was beginning to feel desperation at the thought of being alone. I could go and get a job but having been a stay at home mum I wasn't trained for anything and had no experience at pretty much anything an employer would want. Living in a fairly small and quiet suburb had its advantages but employment opportunities wasn't one of them.