Gonna try to keep this short and to the point but we all know I’m not very good at that.

So many moons ago I was deep in the fun and adventure of the hotwife lifestyle. I was meeting one great guy after the next and really thinking I had this thing figured out. That changed when one Friday night as I was getting ready to meet someone new, they canceled. I don’t remember the reason or the guy but I remember how bummed I was. I’ve had dates postpone and cancel plenty of times but seeing as how I was already halfway ready this one kinda stung. So I hit up my Tinder list, despite the fact that I never really do last minute dates. I jumped back into a conversation with someone who was local enough and he happened to ask if I was free to hang out so I thought I’d roll with it and take him up on his offer for wine at his place. My husband was aware I was still trying to set up plans so I updated him, gave the address and we got excited that the night was still on despite a small setback. Fast forward and I’m ready and heading out, a little more nervous than usual; I really didn’t usually meet people this quickly and with so little 'build up'. I found my way to his apartment in Jersey and headed in. We opened a bottle of wine and got comfortable in his room and spent some time chatting. From his mouth flowed complaints about how hard it was to juggle modeling with his day job and how successful his father was. It was bizarre but I chalked it up to nerves and liquid courage from the wine that made him feel far more interesting than he was. When I was certain my ears would bleed if he complimented himself again he luckily changed the topic; we got to talking about the videos and photos I wanted to bring home. One thing led to another, whipped out my camera phone and his dick. I can say, with time and space, that the 1st video we made was straight fire. He had a huge cock and an amazing body, he was a model after all. The good things ended there. We moved to the bed and it’s like my phone hit a dead zone. Nothing worked. I tried everything, totally stopping the action, but alas it just would not record, connect to wifi, nada. He said he’d record and send it to me. I agreed, against my better judgement but it was early days and I really wanted to bring home video. We got back to it and despite my love of a nice size dick he was a lot to handle so taking it a tad slow was needed. He didn’t seem to agree.

Now I have to say I don’t remember much and if I did I certainly wouldn’t share every detail but what I do remember and will share is this. Before my brain could register anything I was on all fours and he was behind me just going to town, which normally is great but this time not so much. Like I said, he was a large fellow and I needed some time. Abruptly my face was in the pillow, I couldn’t really say much with his hand on my head and my face all pressed but I told him to stop; I told him to slow down, he didn’t. I put my hand on his thigh and tried to push him back and away from me, but it didn't work. My brain just stopped working, my whole body just stopped working and to this day I don’t know why. I remember the feeling of not being able to lift my head up and being smushed into this goddamn pillow and I remember my legs feeling like they were sandbags. My brain was just kinda scrambling to get my legs to move and jump off this bed and away from this dude but nothing happened, I was just stuck there, frozen. He had a grand old time and the second he was done I felt my entire self bolt upright and scramble away. Of course there’s more ‘moments’ and ‘flashes’ that I have but you get the picture and I don’t need to share the truly ugly details. I revoked consent multiple times vocally and physically but maybe it wasn’t enough or maybe he just didn’t give a fuck, I’ll never know.

I remember thinking that I can’t let him know I’m panicking so I said I was so thirsty so we should go get water. He got up and led the way to the kitchen. I followed but it felt like his entire apartment was underwater, nothing looked or sounded right. I threw my clothes on the second he had turned around so we stood there drinking water under his fluorescent kitchen lights while my brain was screaming at me to ‘act normal’ around him. He stood butt ass naked in his kitchen, not a word said and I’m pretty sure time stopped for a good few hours but maybe it was just a minute or two. At this point my brain was full on seal team 6 and I was trying to angle myself so I could get out. At some point my body started moving before my brain could register and I think I said a quick ‘ok I gotta go’ and I walked to the door. As I was pulling it shut I felt that little bit of resistance and he was right behind me. I would love to say I kept my cool but I didn’t. I slammed the door, left the building and ran to my car. Now if you know me, I don’t run. Not in a cutesy ‘I don’t like to sweat, I’m a lady’ way, just hate running and my knees are shit but that night my knees said fuck this shit and got my ass across his complex, across the street and locked in my car in like 8 seconds flat. I remember it was just barely dark out by then, the street lights were really yellow and even though it was night it smelled like it had just rained. It was like all of my senses came back at once, unfortunately they brought massive anxiety along with them. I remember knowing I had to get directions home, I couldn’t sit there in case he came outside but my hands were having a really hard time trying to use my phone. I drove around the corner and parked and got directions home after a few deep breaths and the realization that the longer I sat there the longer until I was in my own bed. I had to call my husband next. I didn’t know what to say or how to ‘be’ so I briefly filled him in and said I was freaking out so I should be home in 38 minutes and if I’m late, start looking for me. I drove home, probably the most alert I’ve ever been while also feeling like I wasn’t even in reality. A few hours earlier I was excited to dress up and have a fun sexy night and now I was crying in the car and trying to pull myself together so I didn’t freak out my husband when I got home.

I got home, minutes or hours later I don’t even know how I drove to be honest, it’s all such a blur. I got rid of the clothes I was wearing and climbed into bed. My lovely husband listened to me rant and try to process what the fuck happened and what I was supposed to think or feel and then we watched our shows and he held me until I passed the fuck out.

The next day I woke up and was dying to shower, just absolutely desperate for a long hot shower. I should have taken one the night before but I felt like if I did it was some kind of admission to myself that I felt as horrid and awful as my mind was telling me. When I say it was one of the best showers of my life! I cannot explain how amazing washing off the night before felt, there are no words. I felt a little more normal and human after that but then the texts started. Every time my phone dinged I thought I would puke. I went to hit the block button to hopefully block out the man, the night, the everything but this mofo had videos and I wanted them. I wanted to see of my brain had somehow fucked up and I never said stop and I never tried pushing him off of me but of course, of fucking course, he said he didn’t have them. Nothing recorded, it wasn’t usable, it was too dark, the video was poor quality, on and on...all I got was excuses. Finally I blocked him because he kept insisting I come back to get the video ( the one that didn’t exist and didn’t come out and didn’t have audio) and honestly I just didn’t have it in me to do the back and forth and try to find out exactly what happened.

After that I was done, totally done. People ask me a lot if once you become a hotwife you won’t be able to stop and the answer is always, I can stop anytime. I wasn’t upset about stopping. I was upset that I felt like someone else made me question myself, tainted all my amazing memories of meeting great guys and someone else made me feel like I was legit crazy. As it turned out there was someone else I had been talking to. He was engaged and had an open relationship and we chatted over hotwife stuff for months on and off and he was suddenly single and wanted to meet up. I debated if I was actually losing my mind because I entertained meeting him. Eventually I did. I remember feeling like it literally can’t be worse than last time and I refuse to ‘go out’ on a bad note. This date was the one time I wasn’t anxious or nervous to meet someone new, I was weirdly very chill about it and that just isn’t like me. He booked a hotel close to me and I headed over, the whole time thinking I had to have a better date than last time, and had to replace that memory with something more positive. I am very very fortunate that the date I had was the first of many with the editor.

I’m sharing all of this because recently someone pointed out that it seems like ‘something changed’ with me and yeah it has and it's changed the way I look at a lot of things both within this lifestyle and outside of it. I haven’t met anyone new since meeting the editor and I wouldn’t have met him then had we not had months of chatting and getting to know each other in a non sexual way. It changed that I need to feel safe, secure and respected more than I need someone with a nice dick and flowery words. It changed how I see the men and husbands who push their wives into this lifestyle to appease their kink not realizing what you’re asking of her. It changed how I vet through the men I’m going to meet and how much I need to chat with them before I'm willing to physically be near them. It changed how I view the bulls who prey on first time couples and leave them feeling like this lifestyle is all about getting off and say nothing of the respect and care it actually requires. One terrible horrible, no good, very bad date changes you and more husbands should really weigh that against their desire to have a sexy experience. From day one of posting and sharing my journey I have been in the corner of the wives who partake in this, in my life I advocate for women’s rights and freedoms, I share because I want women to know the good bad and ugly of this lifestyle so they can avoid the pitfalls and mistakes that I’ve been through. I’ve had amazing dates, met some of the most impressive and attractive men, I’ve shared a lot of my journey here but please don’t think for a second that this lifestyle isn’t without negative experiences and moments that will change you for better or worse.

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TL;DR: One terrible horrible, no good, very bad date changes you and more husbands should really weigh that against their desire to have a sexy experience.