The Inquisition.

First, let me say a big, "Thank you" to everyone that has reached out with a "great blog" or constructive criticism. I sincerely appreciate the love and am so happy that our story has hit home with so many. You feel all alone in your situation sometimes. Truth be told, we are all human and fallible. Faith in something greater than yourself, grace for those fail, patience for the process, and love for each other is what gets us through the ugly.

Speaking of ugly, we had some ugly to get through. Part of Mr. Cajun's struggle was the unknown. At any time during any random day a thought would pop in his head and it was like a worm hole to hell. His imagination would get the best of him. I could take one look at him and know he had gone to what we began referring to as "a bad place." His mind had him watching John and I interact with each other. He would see very graphic images of the two of us on his bed. It was terrible.

Crazy how the fear of the unknown is often so much worse than the actual event.

I won't regress to the last blog, but it was a lot of work pulling him from the bad places. He would throw me into a bad place. Guilt. Anger at myself. Anger at John. Anger at him! Most of the time, long hugs and passionate kisses pulled us from these depths of despair.

And then one morning, he dropped an atomic bomb on me as he was walking out of our house and headed to work:

"I'm having drinks with John tonight."


He read my face in a way only he can. "Calm down. I'm leaving my .45 here." He smirked. The dimples that I had not seen in months shined back at me. I felt calm oozing from him. I did not know if this was a bad thing and I should worry, or was it a good thing, he was moving forward?

Side note, we are avid shooters. He was earned a marksman designation during his time in the service.

I made him PROMISE me that this is JUST talking. He would not hit him. He would not berate him. Mr. Cajun promised me that he would be nice. I mean, John had made zero commitment to Mr. Cajun. I was the one who promised to forsake all others forever and ever amen. I am of the opinion that cheaters are the problem. I am not a fan of the "homewrecker" notion. After all, random strangers don't jump the bones of married people and hope for the best. The husband or wife is the one committing the crime. Mr. Cajun mostly agreed with me. If he can live with me, he should be able to have a conversation with John. Right?

I have no idea what he is going to talk to him about. I am only assuming that he wants to clear the air. He knew that while I was not attracted to John in a "Run away with him" kind of way, I did really enjoy being his friend. He was easy to talk to, fun, and extremely open. He and I also shared a ton of common interests. Craziest thing: he really reminded me of Mr. Cajun. I often told him that if they were to ever meet, they would probably be friends. It was probably a combination of me missing my friend and him wanting to get things off of his chest, that put him in a place of curiosity. I did not miss the affair. I had NO DESIRE to go there again. I just missed the person I could unload anything on and not receive judgement.

I will leave out the plethora of details on how I was mentally and emotionally through the day. The. Day. Drug. On. Forever...……

Back when I had first revealed the affair to Mr. Cajun, I had installed an app on my phone so he could see where I was at all times, and my historical locations.  I never wanted him to think I was somewhere I was not supposed to be. This was part of the repairing process. I had nothing to hide. He had to believe that. He also downloaded the app and I could see his whereabouts.  I used this app to find out when he went to meet around 5:00, he arrived at the restaurant. I expected this meeting to be short and sweet.

But, nothing ever works out like I expect.

7:00 rolls around. I check his twenty. Still there.

8:00..... still there.



11:15..... "I'm on my way home. He still has a pulse" is the text message that he sends.

What the actual fuck?

Well, I was right. They had a ton of shit to talk about. Mr. Cajun told me John spent the first hour apologizing, sincerely. He was able to tell him how it felt to be the victim. How it hurt. How his heart had broken. Unloading his emotional state on John really gave him some closure. John was very willing to listen. He was willing to put himself in my husband's shoes and try to understand where he was in this journey that he did not sign up for.

After the inquisition, they shot the shit for a few hours. And they agreed to meet again...AGAIN!!!

Has your chin dropped to the floor? I mean, how many times do adult men act like adults? (no offense, guys). It is so easy to just hold on to hurt and anger. To put the hatred he felt for me onto John so that he could live with me would be the acceptable thing to do. But, I did not marry an average man. I married an exceptional man.

The two of them met in similar fashion for two additional meetings. I could see the emotional weight drop off of Mr. Cajun more and more with each visit. I still had zero contact with John since I confessed my sins. He told me that John was in the lifestyle. Strangely enough, this was not a factoid I had known. He and his ex-wife had been lifestylers in a full-time manner. Since their divorce, he had not had much of an appetite for it, but did play as a single male on occasion. This was one of John's favorite topics and he was always willing to talk about it.

My confession of an MFM had intrigued my husband. Mr. Cajun started using John as a learning tool. He also started researching. He found a book called Life on the Swingset by Cooper Becket. He listened to it on his drives to and from work. I listened to it, too. Up to the polyamory part, it sounded like something I could definitely do.  This is also the time Mr. Cajun discovered podcasts. He listened to a few episodes of Sex with Emily. But We Gotta Thing with Mr. and Mrs. Jones was the first Lifestyle podcast he binged on. Always having to do my own thing, I found The Swinger Diaries with Paige and Penn. Between Mr. and Mrs. Jones and Paige and Penn, we got an earful of eargasms and our curiosity had piqued.

Our tub time talk was heavy on lifestyle topics. We were living vicariously through the podcasters. By this time, Mr. Cajun had added the Stitcher app to his phone and it was FULL of podcasters from the LS. We talked about their stories and how we thought we would look in those situations. How would we handle them? Could we even bring ourselves to talk to another couple, much less, play with them?

My birthday was rapidly approaching. Mr. Cajun always delivers the most insanely good gifts. This year was no different. He approaches me one afternoon and tells me he has my birthday present planned, but it was going to be a few days late. No worries, I tell him. Whatcha get me?


Again, EXCUSE ME, WHAT????



He unpacked the details. He and John had spent the last several weeks talking and planning. They had the date picked. John was going to be in town. It would be next Monday night at his condo.


Now our tub time got really interesting. Now we were talking about our first LS adventure. Boundaries, expectations, fears, what-ifs...… I told him that my boundary was his boundary. If all he wanted me to do was talk to him, then fine. If he said fuck him, then fine. I had never had sex with John or gone done on him. Our relationship had been one sided, the sex/giving oral were lines I wasn't willing to cross.

I had enjoyed John's attention before, it was always a comfortable time. Now, though, I was scared. I was worried about Mr. Cajun actually seeing this. You can't undo what you've done. I had put him through so much already....Could he handle it? Could I handle it? Would it be weird after? How is it these people in the LS share these intimate moments and then just walk away like they'd only shared a card game?

Monday rolled around. I cannot tell you what I did that was a blur. Mr. Cajun got home from work. We had a normal dinner with our kids. We told them we had something that night for Mr. Cajun's work and I had to attend. I jumped in the tub. Bathed. Shaved, exfoliated, shaved again (the secret for stupid smooth legs). I decided against makeup. Dried my hair. Changed clothes 8 times. Watched Mr. Cajun shower and dress, he was as cool as could be. I'm legitimately freaking out. I changed my mind 247 times. We are going. We are not going. We are going. We are not going. We are going. Should we go? Should we cancel? I look horrible in this. This isn't sexy. Should I wear panties? Lipstick or no?..…… 

Mr. Cajun brought out a bag and winked at me. He loaded the bag and his wife in the car and wazed us over to John's condo.

612 more mind changes on the way there. 

We pull into his lot and he buzzes us through the gates.


He opens the door, his familiar face combined with Mr. Cajun's calmness, and a little alcohol and my nerves finally decided to chill.

We all talked for a bit and had a drink. John excused himself to turn on some music. When John returned, he refilled my glass with vodka and a splash of cranberry. As he handed it to me he winked at Mr. Cajun and said, "I would love to see you two kiss."

Mr. Cajun leaned in and kissed me. I felt like I was 15 years old and standing outside of my high school gym kissing a guy for the first time. I was so incredibly nervous. Mr. Cajun pulled back from me for just a moment and handed a blindfold to John. John moved in with his chest barely touching me, he slipped the blindfold in front of my eyes and tied it tightly behind my head.



  1. Thank you for sharing your story as I read I thought you were writing about my life the last year or so, from the fantasy, the thoughts, everything, except the follow through. My wife however isn't good with communicating her feelings so she shuts down and that frustrated me, but I could look in her eyes and see the pain, the guilt, and that broke me as well even though I was hurt it hurt me to see her hurt to. She never could express it the way you did. I seen that life, motherhood had been getting to her so I wanted to allow her to breath have fun and enjoy life we started Tumblr blog and posted picts talked to couple's and it was just a fantasy. Then it happened and things got bad, not because of the act but the fact she wouldn't really talk to me. I was broken, girl is the love of my life and I didn't know if I was losing her, or what. Scared to death contemplated suicide, murder, and all sorts of crazy thoughts. Things are better now, but all the fantasy mfm has stopped she won't talk about it, look at it, or even consider it. And prior to the "act" we were looking for someone that we both agreed on. Why have things changed so much? In your opinion. We also live in valley, AL not to far from you. Can you give suggestions on places that you go for lifestyle gatherings?


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Hi. My name is Sara. And I am an MFM advocate.