1 The App

He has a wife, I have a husband, and both of us are loving parents. When our lives became entangled, the last thing we expected was for any of this to happen to us.

It was exactly two years, five months and 16 days since the last time I had sex with my husband. At one point you can't blame me for what my body craves.

I can't tell you his name, – its too scary to reveal into the air for everyone to hear, the truth of what we have done– so I'll call him James. James sounds like a proper name for a good man. The fact that we are both married to good people, we truly care for so deeply. Him being 35 and me 26.

He has young child homes, career. Myself, no children but not by choice i want kids but just hasn't happen yet, i have home and job as well, we actually work together, but intimacy with our spouses, was not happening for the both of us. Our partners could be best be described as an old, comfortable friend.

A recent investigation in the New York Times newspaper found that the country is in the midst of an "infidelity epidemic," claiming that more than half of American married women have had an extramarital fling. One survey reports that 12 percent of people combing dating apps admit to being married, and social researchers That means many of you – or your husbands – will be unfaithful, likely out of frustration or boredom or both.

That was me. For years I tried hard. But conversations about it turned into finger-pointing fights, and couples therapy was futile.

Eventually I had to accept it: My husband was uninterested in me sexually. That was Adam's situation too; he told me about all of his attempts to rekindle something between himself and his wife, and his frustration when they failed.

It was two summers ago that we both checked out a website that seemed good for our situations, designed to connect people seeking partners in adultery – one of at least a dozen such sites out there today. We had the same worries when it came down to it, The fling would be on the side and there would be no questions. The point was to discreetly vent some of the sexual frustrations that was building up inside us and threatening to blow our families apart. Yes, it was first-degree adultery, but trying to avoid hurting the innocent, -his child and my husband, who by the way i still loved in a stranger way- sloppy affairs often do. The problem is, no matter how discrete you plan to be, in an intimate affair, life doesn't always obey.

I didn't know what was happening in Adams life, until the "dating app" for married people so not an dating app. But we connected online within days of creating my profile. The dumb luck of finding each other still astounds us. He was one of the first men who contacted me and we were soon texting daily, trying to not say what we really were after, even if the app said it all. The app didn't have names.

Then i started thinking all and hard - haha not what i meant- What if this guy was looking for a way out of his marriage? Was he trying to stay married? What if he was someone I knew? I remember in one of his texts he said, "My family is very important to me (stop laughing)." I laughed, and felt sure that I'd like him.

We set up a date at a busy bar away from our usual places we go, both of us looking forward to it intensely and fearing disappointment.

When i got there i couldn't believe it was Adam holding a red rose so we know it was us, The spark was instant. We quickly got past our nerves, and over a four hour dinner, drinks and non-stop talking, we revealed more of each other. He got my lame jokes and didn't agree with everything I said. We felt too close for comfort. (people I knew knew and liked him, and this. But i confirmed that his family story checked out).

At first, my emotions was taking over my mind, and as it grew later, I told him I wasn't sure I could continue. At that moment he took my hand and the sexual tension almost made me gasp. As we walked to my car, I turned and kissed him. We ended up making out wildly, passion interspersed with giggling at the absurdity of what we were doing. When I got home, I had a text from him with "Wow."

Things progressed fast, texting back and forth several times a day. We decided to go to a hotel the following week. I was terrified; I doubted I'd go through with it, but at the same time I was thrilled at the prospect of adventure. Our texts were getting more suggestive and, after months for me and years for him, of celibacy, it felt so indescribably good to be wanted.

The hotel room: He checked in before me. I arrived with wine and food. I was so nervous I could barely look at him when he opened the door, I was so confused of why I was there. But I kissed him, hoping to break the ice. It didn't work.

I practically gulped down my first glass of wine, and as we talked, half sitting, half lying on the bed,As fall turned to winter, Adam grew even more stressed about his marriage. Some of their issues were the same i started to had and I tried to be helpful, offering suggestions from my own experience. Though we talked mainly about his situation, I found myself thinking harder about mine. My marriage. Was I willing to settle for a sexless relationship? Was it really beyond repair? Adam encouraged me to not accept it. The irony of what we were doing – lovers engaging in mutual marriage counselling – was obvious to us both. But one night I took his advice and confronted my husband about our problems. I told him I couldn't understand how he could stand our marriage the way it wad. Something sank in. The emotions were raw on both sides and I was stocked by how much he loved me. He said he'd try harder, and I wanted to believe him.

Did I end it with Adam then? I'm not that big a person; I wasn't willing to give up what he and I had just yet. But as Adam struggled to keep his family together, our get-togethers were less and less. Worse, he started cancelling. The evenings we did spend together would end in sadness, with us both starting to miss each other before we'd even said goodbye. In early January, when Adam cancelled yet another date, i couldn't take it I finally pulled the plug. There were many reasons behind my decision: sexual frustration, anger, the belief that I was interfering with his efforts at home. I didn't know weather or not to tell him that i am late, 3 months to exact.

Recently, my husband and I had sex for the first time in almost a year, I couldn't keep from thinking of Adam. It was clear to me that I wasn't capable of sleeping with two men I loved at the same time. I sent Adam a text saying I needed to take a break; we had lived so much of our relationship on an app that this wasn't as impersonal as it sounds. He didn't try to talk me out of it.

We agreed to meet one more time in a hotel. It started just like any other evening together: I brought food and wine, he greeted me in the room, we had dinner together, then made love. We spent six hours there, wanting to extend the evening as long as possible. It passed in a wink.

We still hope we can turn this into a friendship; we are certainly friends. "I can't stand the idea of not seeing you for a long time," he wrote shortly after our last night together. A couple of weeks later, feeling like missing Adam, I logged into the app where we met, found his first email to me and forwarded it to him. "Isn't it weird to read that now?"

I still don't really know, but I'm so glad I did. Our affair, It was wonderful, and painful; it made me feel fully alive again. I can't bear to think it's over. A small, secret part of me hopes it's not. But now 8 months pregnant, my husband over the moon - painting the nursery- i can't help to think if not telling Adam was for the best.As fall turned to winter, Adam grew even more stressed about his marriage. Some of their issues were the same i started to had and I tried to be helpful, offering suggestions from my own experience. Though we talked mainly about his situation, I found myself thinking harder about mine. My marriage. Was I willing to settle for a sexless relationship? Was it really beyond repair? Adam encouraged me to not accept it. The irony of what we were doing – lovers engaging in mutual marriage counselling – was obvious to us both. But one night I took his advice and confronted my husband about our problems. I told him I couldn't understand how he could stand our marriage the way it wad. Something sank in. The emotions were raw on both sides and I was stocked by how much he loved me. He said he'd try harder, and I wanted to believe him.

Did I end it with Adam then? I'm not that big a person; I wasn't willing to give up what he and I had just yet. But as Adam struggled to keep his family together, our get-togethers were less and less. Worse, he started cancelling. The evenings we did spend together would end in sadness, with us both starting to miss each other before we'd even said goodbye. In early January, when Adam cancelled yet another date, i couldn't take it I finally pulled the plug. There were many reasons behind my decision: sexual frustration, anger, the belief that I was interfering with his efforts at home. I didn't know weather or not to tell him that i am late, 3 months to exact.

Recently, my husband and I had sex for the first time in so long.But I couldn't keep from thinking of Adam. It was clear to me that I wasn't capable of sleeping with two men I loved at the same time. I sent Adam a text saying I needed to take a break; we had lived so much of our relationship on an app that this wasn't as impersonal as it sounds. He didn't try to talk me out of it.

We agreed to meet one more time in a hotel. It started just like any other evening together: I brought food and wine, he greeted me in the room, we had dinner together, then made love. We spent six hours there, wanting to extend the evening as long as possible. It passed in a wink.

We still hope we can turn this into a friendship; we are certainly friends. "I can't stand the idea of not seeing you for a long time," he wrote shortly after our last night together. A couple of weeks later, feeling like missing Adam, I logged into the app where we met, found his first email to me and forwarded it to him. "Isn't it weird to read that now?"

I still don't really know, but I'm so glad I did. Our affair, It was wonderful, and painful; it made me feel fully alive again. I can't bear to think it's over. A small, secret part of me hopes it's not. But now 8 months pregnant, my husband over the moon - painting the nursery- i can't help to think if not telling Adam was for the best.