It Happened to Me: I Cheated On My Wife With Someone At Work And I Hate Myself For It

I’ve been happily married for five years and the sex with my wife is great, I just gave into an impulse.

May 10, 2013 at 10:30am | Leave a comment

 
I cheated with someone at work.

 
It’s not something I’ve done before or will ever do again. I’ve been happily married for five years and the sex with my wife is great, I just gave into an impulse. It’s something I wish I could take back, but it’s done.
 
I’d worked with her for over two years, not everyday but now and then we would have projects where we would have to spend a lot of time together. We sat on separate floors but I saw her all the time and we would chat quite a bit.
 
She was attractive. Looking back she was always flirty, you kind of lose touch when you have been married for awhile, I presumed that’s just how she was with guys. 
 
There would be times when I thought she was giving me hints, but over two years I convinced myself it wasn’t aimed at me. When she walked in front of me in the corridor sometimes I thought she was giving her hips an extra swing with each step, walking slower on purpose but it could have been in my head.
 
It was a corporate office, so she was usually in high heels, a pencil skirt and jacket. I swear when we were working late she had a little more cleavage and that skirt was a little higher than during the day. It could have been the fact that I noticed it more in a closer environment. Either way, I noticed it.
 
Everyone used IM at work. Now and then we would be chat about what we had been up to the night before or our plans for the weekend. We were talking about a date she had been on and how she couldn’t find a decent guy, she posted:
 
XXXXXX: I’ve experienced a lot. I need someone that can handle me
Me: Like what?
XXXXXX: Let’s just say I went through a wild patch when I was younger
 
Naturally my mind played with all the things "wild" could mean but I changed the subject. All this crazy sex she must have be having just rolled around my mind for the next two weeks.
 
These may sound like excuses, but I just wanted to look back at it all. At how I let it build up, how I got myself into that situation. You know when you look into someone’s eyes and it can go from a normal conversation to some kind of sexual tease. We would be having lunch with a couple people and I’d be convinced she was trying to eye fuck me, she would slowly lick her top lip from side to side. I told myself it was just fantasy, that I was horny and exaggerating it, for the majority it probably was.
 
Spending a lot of time with someone, the flirting lines blur. I guess I led her on now and then, asking her lots of questions, joking about personal stuff. I followed one of her Spotify playlists, I was the only one following it. I must have been only for a few days, but she definitely changed the name to "Music to shag to." This stuff is all subjective, she may have done it on purpose, who knows, she may have just changed the name for no reason. All this doesn’t make it any less my fault. I look back at myself it that situation, wishing I could reach in and slap myself with the sense to see what I was playing with.
 
It happened, as I’m sure it usually does -- working late and drinking. There were three of us, a couple of wines deep. There was another guy there, he had a couple of young kids and left after the first bottle, we decided to push on and try and finish the presentation. A project that seemed so important at the time, yet now so ridiculously insignificant. 
 
We were sitting pretty close at points, going through some papers, now and then one of us would get up and write something on a whiteboard. I could smell her and kept getting these open looks down her top. I think she had an extra button undone when she came back with the second bottle, maybe she sprayed on more perfume, either way the room got much more intense. You are drawn into the chemistry, its hot, it builds then you shake it off.
 
There were these three columns of stuff she was adding to the white board. When she had to write at the bottom of each column she sort of stepped back and bent right over to get down there. She did that thing that women can do in heels when she arches just above her hips so her butt kind of sticks up. It was summer so she had bare legs and a reasonably short skirt. I clenched my teeth and shook it out of my head again.
 
I did what a lot of guys do -– oversexualized it. Played it out like some dirty secretary porn clip. A dangerous trigger when faced with a very real situation.
 
The third time she was writing something towards the bottom, I buried myself in my phone. She was thinking aloud when she asked, “What do you think?” I wasn’t really listening and didn’t reply, I knew that I should get out of there, that nothing good could come from sticking around. She turned her head, still bent over in the same position “So… what do you think?”
 
I looked up. She was all wide-eyed and smiling, one leg bent, one locked straight. Looking down on at my phone uncomfortably, I just mumbled something stupid. Although she had all the control, I felt this weird position of power, someone younger inside me pushed, "Get it done you pussy."
 
I tried to put it out of my head and wrap things up, I was writing on the board when she came up to change something. Either she backed into me or I stepped forward, “Sorry” I said. She turned from her shoulders to look at me, urging me on. I felt this pulsing through my body, a kind of animal energy. I turned her all the way round, put a hand on her waist and kissed her.
 
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t. I can’t. Sorry,” I pulled back, looking down stupidly.
 
“Naughty," She said, putting her hand on my chest, leaning in, slowly kissing me, running her tongue over the inside of my lips and into my mouth.
 
I tried not to think about it afterwards, blacked it out but I can remember it pretty clearly. I pushed her up against the wall, wrapping one of her legs around me. She turned me around, undid my pants and we fucked with our clothes on. She was pretty noisy considering there were often cleaners around at that time of night.
 
I blocked all thoughts from outside that room while it was going on, it was this aggressive, pent up, raw sex but the second we finished a black doom rolled over me. 
 
I told her it could never happen again but she brought it up a couple of times, then tried it on at a farewell drinks a couple of weeks later.
 
I told my wife. I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same again. I left the company, tried everything to make it up to her. You can’t really say sorry for it, anything you do to make up for it still brings attention to it. The fact that there was nothing wrong with our relationship in the first place makes it even harder to make it right. It just sits there stewing like some sort of disease, you think you’re past it, but it comes back again and again. 
 
As far as I know, she never told any of her friends. Just absorbed it. She cried a lot, followed by periods where she was really quiet. We told our friends we were going through a difficult period. She ran all the time, every morning and night for months.
 
Its crazy to think I couldn’t control my cock that one time or that I didn’t see what was coming. All I had to do was go home and jerk off.
 
This article was also published on Thought Catalog.