Chapter 10: The High Cost Of Indulgence

The number one rule of engagement involving our deal to engage Steve in our sex life was violated when Bill was caught sexting pictures of himself to an unknown person. That discovery forced me to face the issue of privacy and trust. Is one entitled to privacy when their behavior leads to questions of infidelity? A mere nine months into our marriage, I already doubted Bill’s commitment and truthfulness. Bill continued to duck, dodge, and deny any accountability for what I witnessed.

The thought of snooping in Bill’s phone, emails, and private files was an ugly prospect. I had the passwords and the access so it wasn’t a matter of could I but rather should I. When I noticed a substantial increase in Bill’s texting and hiding his phone, the question of should I pry was answered. The voice in my head that I had silenced all those months was now a constant companion providing advice and forcing me to recognize the oddities of Bill’s behavior when I conveniently chose to look the other way.

The mystery of what Bill had been up to and with whom was answered within seconds of pulling up his email. Bill had been on Craigslist for weeks, answering ads from crossdressers and trannies looking to hook up. Most of the ads said discretion was an absolute must as most of them were married and keeping their underground life a deep, dark secret from their wife or significant other – just like Bill.

When you post or answer ads on Craigslist, the communications stay on their servers, which guarantees the anonymity of the name and email address you use to register. Many people, however, move off Craigslist by sharing their email and phone number so you can communicate more freely and easily without having to sign in to the Craigslist site. There is a risk in sharing your personal information, especially for someone like Bill, whose email address contained his real first and last name. Beyond foolish.

Bill was regularly communicating with a guy who posted an ad titled, “CD Looking For CD Lover.” His ad included a photo of him from the waist down, showing an erect cock, legs covered in black silk stockings, and spiked heels. In the lengthy exchange between them, Bill had also sent photos – photos I had taken of him during our sexual pursuits with him dressed in his favorite outfits and crude poses. He was pimping himself out as a “panty boy.”

They talked about how neither one could “host” a get-together and when they were available to meet up. Only during the workweek, they both said, and afternoons were best. They chatted about discretion and how they were keeping their secret desires to stroke and suck real cock and lay together with silk-covered legs intertwined from their wives. Best I could tell, a date, time, and place had not been decided, but this was only their emails. I had no idea what exchanges were occurring over text.  As far as I knew, they had already hooked up and perhaps multiple times.

I learned, too, that hooking up with other CDs was not a recent development or pursuit for Bill. He had left an internet footprint a mile wide that dated back years. The familiarity Bill had shown for Craigslist personals and writing an ad that would produce the desired result was from an experienced user.

The lies and the audacity of his betrayal were surreal. I was beyond seething. The voice in my head was repeating, “I knew it.  I knew it.” All this time, I had provided a comfortable and safe environment for Bill to express himself through his dressing. I encouraged him and withheld judgment no matter how over the top he got with his increasingly slutty wardrobe. He was denied nothing in bed, and I sacrificed my personal sexual desires and need for affection to pander to his particular flavor of erotic cravings. The only thing that was missing was the “real thing.”

The worst thing you can do in this situation is to engage in a confrontation over the phone or text. You lose the element of surprise and the eye-to-eye contact needed to discern more lies or cover-ups. Despite knowing better, that is precisely what I did.  I called him at his office, exposing everything I had discovered, which was mistake #2. This was only the second time in nearly 18 months since we met that I had raised my voice to him – the first being the week before when I viewed his sexting.

When he returned home later that afternoon, the argument escalated when I waved a printout of the email exchange with his “CD Lover.” Bill claimed he was engaging this guy to be a partner “for us,” but that was a lame defense when I pointed out the discussion about discretion and the secrets they kept from their wives. The gig was up, and he stormed out of the house when he realized he could no longer duck from the proof and deny his conduct.

Of course, like so many of us do when we want to get past some immediate and burning pain quickly, I fell for the promises to stop and his insistence that he “didn’t need it,” as was convinced he did.

The voice in my head had doubts about Bill’s sincerity, constantly pointed out more suspicious behaviors, and reminded me that I would pay a high cost of indulgence.