Adultery Has Never Been So Lonely During Covid Times

Lost in Liverpool

I’m so depressed, and the feeling won’t go away until Covid does. I miss my lover; I feel so alone.

We met on Ashley Madison and hit it off almost right away. I hadn’t had sex in over seven years, and his wife had stopped sleeping with him years ago.

My body was numb. I hadn’t been embraced and touched for so long. I learned to just not think about it as I went through my days, unloved and lonely.

My husband has a lower spine injury, and I’ve been there for him through it all. He had a stem cell treatment, which helped a bit, but it seemed to change his personality.

“I’m sorry we can’t have sex anymore,” he said.

“Just hug me. That’s all I need.”

“Hold me,” I added, trying to embrace him.

He shrugged me off.

“I can’t do that.”

I looked at him with disbelief.

“Go find someone,” he said coldly.

Never in a million years would I have thought I would go to another man for the touch that I so craved.

We had been happily married for 20 years when the accident happened. I was a devoted wife, and I had been there for my husband through all the years of his injury.

He wouldn’t even give me a simple hug.

At the time, I just went on. My days were sad, lonely, and disappointing.

We brought up two daughters; one has a great job, is married, and has her own home. The other is at home with suicidal depression. I’ve been there for her. I’ve nursed her through her “lows” and cleaned up her blood. She’s physically attacked me, but when we packed her off to the hospital, hoping for help, they sent her right back to me.

The stress was incredible. Debilitating.

And all I needed was a simple hug from hubby.

On top of taking care of my family, I run my own business, which is extremely busy. And after a while, it became too much.

My Lover

Before I met him, a good friend encouraged me to set up an account on Ashley Madison and go looking. I went on a few dates and slept with a few men, but their attention only helped me for a little while. They didn’t fulfill my needs beyond the moment.

Then I got a message from a very well-written gentleman.

He said he lived in another part of the country, London as it turned out, but he did business in Liverpool at times and was looking for a friend here.

I didn’t respond and kind of brushed him off as I’m very tall, and he was shorter than what I was looking for. I’d never been with anyone shorter than me.

Then he sent me another message.

I clean toilets.

I laughed and messaged back.

He told me he’d been cleaning toilets that afternoon. Even when hubby could walk, he wouldn’t touch a bathroom.

This guy was humble and down-to-earth.

“I want to get to know you better,” I wrote.

So this was how our relationship started.

He wrote lovely things to me. We sexted, as the young ones call it. God, it was hot, and there I was on fire at 53.

I wanted him badly.

I sent him nude pics, and he gushed over them. I was flattered. My husband hadn’t noticed me in years.

I couldn’t leave myself alone thinking about him — horny and so ready for us to be together.

We met on one of his business trips and then again, and then again. He treated me like a goddess every time. We met in his suite in a hotel downtown, and he brought in wine, cut fruit, and water. He’d thought of everything.

He would then leave, and I would see local men, still looking for the warmth I needed.

I didn’t realize that the one fulfilling my needs was my sexy long-distance gentleman with the most gorgeous eyes that I have ever seen.

I nearly lost him before I realized it was he who I had been searching for.

His job happened to move closer, and we have been seeing each other for over two years now.

“I’m feeling loved,” I said to him.

“Good, you deserve it,” he said.

I was finally less lonely.

And then Covid hit, and it was horrible here. Months apart. I might see him once every few weeks after the lockdowns ended. It wasn’t enough.

That’s if I’m lucky.

“When can we see each other again?” I asked my lover.

“Soon, I hope.”

The tears don’t stop falling when I’m alone. I feel so low. I need to be held and touched, spoken to quietly with his caring voice.

I don’t want to tell my lover how bad I’m feeling. He has a wife, his own life. I can’t add to his stress.

So here I am, alone. Always alone.

It’s why I started my affair, and now I don’t even have that.