The Adulteress Prayer

To the heathen God of Adultery

First Lord, no murderers. Please do not have me made into a lampshade. That death would be tough to explain to immediate family.

“Why no open casket?” “Uh, she was cheating and skinned in a hotel room on the seedy side of town,” my hubby would say to my hard-of-hearing uncles. “She WHAT?” “She’s lucky she’s being buried.”

May my affair partner be endowed with both charm and goods. When searching for a lover, I specify as different as possible from my husband.

Yeah, I’m evil.

Guide me. When crossing hotel lobbies to remain unseen. When driving to a lover without an accident because I’m not “where I’m supposed to be.” When I’m not looking at my phone because I’m otherwise “occupied” in a hotel room. “Did you get my texts?? Why didn’t you answer?” When I’m spitballing plausible excuses to have been gone for a few hours.

Protect me. Not that I’m really worth it, but who else will amuse you?

Lead me away from premature ejaculators and selfish lovers, Lord. Is that too much to ask? I need fulfillment. And not the spiritual kind. LOL.

May I be able to use sex toys to my heart’s content with a willing partner. Not like my hubby likes to say, “You don’t need all that shit!”

“Um, yeah, I do.” I can’t remember the last time you made me orgasm.

Grant me the ability to compartmentalize with no conscience, whatsoever. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, God.

Ya know, Hitler and all that. You’ve done it before.

And, give me a man with the perfect blend of a dirty mind and a hot body. I am willing to pray for this one.

Also, communication on the regular with spectacular sex would be Moses level magnificent. He can part my sea, anytime. I’m really going straight to HELL. No doubt about it.

Make me a tool for good. Like good in bed, good. I’ll get down on my knees. Even if it’s impossible to come back up easily.

May I play games. Roleplay, fantasies, erotica, and more. Sex with imagination is ten times as fun. Almost as much fun as sinning.

Lead me away from guilt. I’m done with it — not entertaining, at all.

And, one day, when my lover ghosts me out of the blue, grant me the serenity to immediately get under someone new. No endless crying. No pity parties. No sad songs. Hop back on that bad boy roller coaster! We’re going for another ride!

Give me the strength, oh Lord, to make “visible” my profile on Ashley Madison and try my luck yet again.

I didn’t delete it. What foolishness would that be? Beginner move. I’m an advanced adulteress.

I will not be celibate again. No way. I will not.

Give me gratitude, God, for getting laid. I still got it. That or I’m desperate. Or, the guys are desperate. Whatever. It works.

And, should I be discovered, I will fold my cards. I will bow out. I will not lie or gaslight.

Who am I kidding? Lord, you know me better than that! OF course, I’m going to lie. That’s what I do. You will direct me to the express elevator downstairs.

God will say to me, ”You have blasphemed me enough — but I did laugh.”

Amen

Mona

Inspired by Tina Fey’s prayer for her daughter in Bossypants. She’s brilliant. My favorite line, “May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.”

If you liked this one, you should read my fantasy wish list article:

Links outside The Medium for those who like to live on the edge (like me):

Follow me on substack — [email protected] (It’s free and I’m interestingly evil…)

ko-fi.com/monalisasmiled (Help a lady adulteress out, won’t you? I’m so bad, I’m good.)

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