For at least 3 or 4 weeks prior to the day I had chosen to 'confess' all to B, I had admittedly, been hard to live with. Short tempered, irritable, non-communicative – okay – a right cow! I was scared to death of losing my husband and my home (trust me – you'll understand why I would have deserved to have been the one that had to leave the home when more of this story is known!). I also didn't know anymore if I was in love with B – yes i loved him but was I in love with him? Could i continue my secret life without B in it? There was nothing about B that I didn't know and yet I didn't have a clue how he was going to react to my bombshell. I had thought about just telling him that I happened upon some websites and was curious enough to browse, or got caught up in a conversation with someone at work, but ultimately knew how lame that would sound. I needed to emphasise the seriousness of my feelings and i couldn't do that unless I told him the real truth, but that meant B would not just be learning about a new me but would also have to read about Master from London. Oh God! I'd explained in the papers that Master knew I was married but he also knew things had been 'strained' in the marriage for some time. I had liaised and served Master via txt and speaking on the telephone but had only met face to face once. Master was a very large gentleman (stature! I'm talking about stature you vulgar mares!) but with the kindest personality you could wish for. Serving Him was easy, so natural, by the time we met I wouldn't have cared if He'd had 3 noses with warts on! Now I knew I could never leave this lifestyle as it wasn't just a case of this is what i like to do, it was in fact who I was.
After giving B the papers that could make or break our marriage, I sat on the garden bench drawing hard on a cigarette and downing a glass of wine like abolition was being announced in an hour's time. After (what seemed like an age!) about 10 minutes, with my back to the door, I heard it open, “I think we need to talk”. . . .
