The Barista

This has been more difficult for me to write than I first imagined. I was not expecting the overwhelming response to my account of impregnating the barista at my local coffee shop. Many people have asked whether I am still with my wife and if she knows. I eventually told my wife. This is my account of what happened.

My wife and I were going through marriage counseling (something I never thought I would do) prior to this happening. A few years ago, we found ourselves at a point where we thought our marriage was going to end. My wife was having an emotional affair with a coworker. It was not something planned, but she was unhappy in our marriage, and I was oblivious.

I was providing a good life and home, but nurturing and affection were lacking. I think many men miss this. I was under the impression things were good even though I had my own dissatisfaction that I just set aside as part and parcel of being married. Never in a million years would I think she would seek affection and attention elsewhere, and neither did she.

Infidelity is one of those things you think you know about until you actually go through it. You think you know how you will react and feel, but it hits you hard and devastates everything you think you know. My wife was growing closer to a coworker, having intimate conversations, meeting with him secretly, and I had no idea. Just a funny feeling that something was off.

Everything came to light when my wife was late coming home from work again. I checked 'Find Friends,' and she was in a part of town that was very out of the way from us. Something wasn't right, so I pulled up our cell phone bill online and found multiple calls and texts to a number I didn't recognize. They were daily, and some of the calls lasted over an hour. I put two and two together and knew she was having an affair. I tried calling repeatedly, and no answer. Finally, I texted her that I knew what was going on and that I just wanted her to come home. She called me in tears and told me she was on her way back.

When she got home, we had a hard, emotional, and long-overdue conversation about her affair, our marriage, and how we felt. For her part, she was torn and ashamed about how she felt for this guy. She felt alive around him and could speak to him easily. He was interested in everything about her and didn't judge her. All these things she said he was, she was also saying I wasn't, and that realization cut me to the bone.

She said she did not have sex with him but wanted to. When I called her, she was on her way to his place. She had convinced herself nothing would happen, just talk, but she was fooling herself. She didn't understand why she felt so drawn to him, but she did not want to lose me.

For the sake of time, I will not go into the details of what we had to do to work through this, but it began with both of us being totally honest with what we wanted, and we both still wanted each other. We had to admit to each other and ourselves that what we got from each other had to change, and we were going to have to be honest about our wants and needs if we were going to survive. We found a therapist (actually, it took us three before we found a good fit for us) and began putting in the work to rebuild our marriage from the ground up.

Experts will tell you that recovery from an affair can take anywhere from two to three years and maybe longer, depending on the couple. It is not a short or easy road. Every day, you make three steps of progress; the next day feels like you fall back two. During year one, I was a mess. I felt emasculated, undesirable, foolish for trying to save my marriage, and basically like a sucker. I was at rock bottom. We were making progress, but at this stage of our recovery, I felt like I was second pick.

Oddly enough, the sex my wife and I were having was incredible. Probably some of the best we ever had. The term for this in therapy is "hysterical bonding." We incorporated fantasy into our sex play and were open about what and who aroused us. It was during this time that I met my barista. When I was at a low point in my life, this beautiful young woman reminded me that I was still a man. I do not say this to justify my actions, but I think it is helpful to understand my mindset during this time.

I felt like a charlatan at this point in therapy, and I was. I was talking about and working on being completely honest, exploring hurts from as far back as childhood, and sharing things with each other we never shared before. On the other side, I was having an affair that seemed like a balm for my wounds with no attachments, no stress, and no work.

I understood my wife more. I saw just how quickly you can slide from working hard at a relationship of substance to falling for what is easy and what feels good. But unlike my wife, no one was there to stop me from going into a physical relationship. No one knew totally what was going on except my individual therapist. She was the one who ultimately convinced me that if I wanted something real with my wife, everything had to be on the table.

During a session with our marriage therapist, about one year after things with my barista ended, I put all my cards on the table. I outlined how the affair began, how it continued, my feelings, how it ended, and the baby. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't what I got. I think my wife could accept everything I outlined, but the baby was what clinched it.

There was no raging, no tears, no "how could you." She just looked at me in silence for what seemed like an eternity and said, "I'm done," and walked out of the office. She took an Uber, and I did not see her for a week (it ended up that she went to her sister's). I fucked up everything, and I knew it.

I felt like someone ripped out a part of me. The only other time I felt like this was when I discovered her infidelity. The difference is now I didn't feel hope. Before, it was up to me whether or not we continued, but this was my fuck-up, and I didn't think she would forgive this, especially the baby.

It took weeks before she would even talk to me, but eventually, she did. She went from being done with our marriage to at least being willing to continue counseling. Willing to see how to either fix this or end it. In a couple of months, after the hurt was not as fresh, we started having conversations about what happened. I answered all her questions. I remembered from being on the other side that being honest with my answers and telling it straight was better than trying to spare her feelings.

The first question was the obvious one: Did I love the barista? Yes, but not in the same way I love my wife. Typing it, the answer sounds shallow, so I can imagine how hearing it was, but it was the truth. I explained that my barista gave me comfort in a time when I was hurt and reminded me of a part of myself I thought was lost. She was also the mother of my child. For those things and more, I could not help but love her.

But I am no fool either. Much of what we had was fantasy: wild sex, no obligations, our kinky role play, but you can't have a whole relationship based on that. My barista was half my age and had her entire life ahead of her. Just as she didn't expect anything of me, like leaving my family for her, I didn't expect her to give up her life and future for me. It was a very odd relationship, but we understood each other. I don't think my wife expected that answer. She pictured me as a lovesick puppy for the barista because, in a way, that is how she was with her affair partner.

She asked me if I still desired the barista, and I truthfully told her yes, I wanted both of them. I needed both sides of what they each offered, and I felt like shit for having a desire that selfish, but I would be lying if I didn't acknowledge it was there. That she understood wholeheartedly. We talked about opening up our marriage as a possibility, but once we had a real conversation about that, I realized it wasn't appealing. I already got anything I would get out of that from my relationship with the barista.

My wife didn't say anything to that, but I realized she never got what I got. Her chance to try that sexual side of herself with someone outside of us had never been fulfilled. So I suggested it. I advised my wife to have sex with someone else if it would bring her back to me (even if it wouldn't).

It seems absurd typing this, but I wanted her to feel what I felt. To have the full experience that I selfishly partook of while it was denied to her to save our marriage. She quickly dismissed it, but truthfully she didn't need my permission at this point. We weren't even sure we were still going to be married.

About a month later, during a session with our therapist, my wife told me that she had reconnected with her affair partner. She needed to see if the feelings were real. It hurt to hear, but what could I say. I understood her need.

Oddly to her, she found the same spark was not there. She was no longer conflicted about whether she wanted to be in a relationship with him. She didn't, but she was sure that she wanted to have sex with him. For so many reasons, it made sense for her. She would finally know what sex with him was like and wouldn't have to torture herself wondering about it. It would make us as close to even as we could get without her having another man's baby, and she knew that I would be ok with it and we could continue our work together.

Her being with him would not change my wanting to be with her, but she needed to know that we would be together before she could go through with this. I reassured her that I just wanted to keep our marriage. Through it all, she is my best friend. I wanted her back.

That following weekend, she went out with him. They went to dinner and dancing (which my wife loves and I'm not so good at), then back to his place. The plan was for her to call me afterward and let me know if she wanted to continue with us now that she had fulfilled everything she imagined with him. I was a wreck all night and felt like I deserved to be a wreck.

By about 1 AM, I decided to call it a night as it didn't look like I would be hearing from her. At about 3 AM, I got a knock on the door. It was my wife. She decided to come by instead of calling because she wanted to do this face to face. My stomach dropped because I figured things went better than she thought, and she came to end things in person.

She went through the night, describing how much fun they had and what they did together. I didn't want to hear this stuff. Hearing the little things, the cute intimate things that happen on a date, was like being cut by dozens of tiny razor blades. They sounded so compatible, but I held my tongue and braced myself for the end. She then got to the point of them at his place.

She didn't hold anything back. I think she needed me to get the full brunt of what happened so that I could feel what she felt and to see if, after hearing this, I still wanted to be with her. She described the sex as incredible. The guy was in his mid-twenties, and she was surprised at his energy level. He was like an animal, bending her over the bed, holding her down, and fucking her like she was his personal hole to fuck. He fucked her thoroughly, multiple times that night, always his way, and she loved it. She did things with him we had never done before and things she never thought to do.

She said it was just as wild and surreal and erotic as she imagined it, and when all was said and done... all she wanted to do was to come home to me. I can't describe what I felt at that moment. I thought I had lost my wife to this guy again, but that was not the case. She hugged me, and we both cried. We went to bed, laid down, and I just held her until we both fell asleep.

The next morning, in the light of day of what happened, things were surprisingly...right. That is the best word I can think to describe things. It was like everything was in order again. We talked a bit more about the night before. I was more curious than I thought I would be and asked what things they did that we didn't do.

The thing that she thought of immediately was that he played with her asshole while he ate her. My wife has never been remotely interested in anal, but when he did this, it drove her crazy. I actually felt myself getting hard at this as we lay in bed. She felt it, too, and got more graphic.

She described how he fingered her pussy first while eating her, then took his well-lubricated finger and played with her asshole. Then while sucking on her clit he stuck the tip of his finger in her ass. She said she came really hard in his mouth when he did this. I felt weird and ashamed that I was becoming aroused by this, but she was too. The fact that we had not had sex with each other in a bit, her arousal, and the absurdity of the whole situation had me harder than I had been in a long time.

At this point, my wife started stroking my dick through my underwear and kissing my neck. She pulled my underwear off and straddled me. She was still wearing her dress from the night before, but I could feel her bare, wet pussy against my dick. She was not wearing panties. I don't know if she went out that way or if she never put them back on after her playdate.

When she saw the realization hit my face, she began rubbing her pussy up and down against my dick. Then she looked me in the eye and matter-of-factly said, "When he took my pussy last night, I let him cum in it." Before I could react or say a word, she sank my dick into her pussy and started riding me like a banshee.

She pulled her tits out of her dress (she is well endowed with D cup tits), and there were nip marks and hickeys all over her brown breasts. She put them in my face and told me to "bite them the way he bit them last night." All control went out the window for me. I have never seen my wife this wild. She felt me tense up and told me to "put some more cum" inside her pussy. I lost it and came hard.

After we came down from the high, we were both embarrassed and turned on and a bit confused. We showered afterward and sat and talked more about what the hell this was going to be moving forward.

We continued working with our marriage counselor, and things are going well. What I recounted was right before COVID hit, so we spent that lockdown time growing closer to each other. We decided we did not want to open up our marriage, but we were not opposed to it. What is more important is that we let each other know what we want and need so that we can provide it for each other.

She did know that she craved more experiences with the guy. This continued for a bit, a couple of times with him and me having sex with my wife in a threesome (something I never thought I would do). Once my wife got the novelty of it out of her system, she was pretty much done, and we spent our time focusing on each other.

She eventually talked to my barista (over Zoom). They already knew each other from before at the coffee shop, but obviously, the dynamic changed. They actually get along quite well. My wife never wanted more children after ours (it was a difficult pregnancy), but she knew I was open to having more. She gives the barista mother-to-mother advice, which is just mind-blowing to me.

She also will roleplay the barista at times in bed or give a scenario where we are all in a threesome (something I would absolutely love to do). The barista has always talked to me about how beautiful my marriage is. Still, it is amazing to hear her have those same conversations with my wife.

My barista is ready to have another child as she doesn't want her children to be too far apart in age, but she is not in a serious relationship. She would love for me to father her second so that the children will be full siblings. My wife, the barista, and I are currently discussing this, but no decisions have been made. If our role-playing lately is any indication, my wife is very open to the idea.