Confessions Of A Man Who Was The Other Woman’s Other Man


If you think it’s hard being a mistress, imagine being the guy that the mistress cheats on the married man with. It’s no picnic, believe me.

Sure, the sex is good—she’s a slut, after all, and a slut knows her way around a man’s body like a pit crew knows its way around a race car—but you always realize you’re only getting “sloppy seconds” when he won’t answer her phone calls or he’s at the kid’s soccer game with his wife.

And that’s what hurts the most—knowing that you’re only playing second fiddle, batting cleanup, and singing a background vocal. It is like being the Vice President of love and romance.

When you call her and she doesn’t answer, you have no idea if she’s OD’d on Vicodin again or if she’s in some motel with him, doing Vicodin and having sex. I know it sounds awful that I’d prefer the former, but that’s just how I feel. I’d rather she’d OD on Vicodin than see that ASSHOLE again.

Doesn’t she realize that he doesn’t love her and is only using her for sex? Doesn’t she know that he’s never going to leave his wife for her—or in the off chance that he does, their relationship will last a week before that old grizzly bear snags a younger, prettier trout from the stream?

I mean, it’s not like you love her and she loves you and that you aren’t just using one another for sex, either, because that’s exactly what’s going on. There’s no commitment involved, no emotional attachment, you don’t call yourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, you don’t make plans, you don’t even know if you’ll ever see each other again after the latest quick blow-n-go.

But, after a while, you DO wind up wishing that the stupid philandering “husband” asshole would go back to his wife. Or at least die. Or suffer some back or neck injury that renders him incapable of getting it up even if he’s hooked to a Cialis IV drip.

Because, ultimately, he’s the one who’s keeping you and her from taking it to the next level. Not that you want to take it to the next level. That’s for suckers. But sometimes when you’re all alone in front of the computer, it sure seems nice.

I think I’m going to call his wife and tell her what he’s been doing behind her back.