If there had been any doubt of my infidelity and what it was, it was answered fully a few days after our time in the shed.
Chris and I had spent a little time talking relatively innocently, certainly compared to what we'd just done, after we'd finished. My limited amount of clothing was back on my body, as well as a smile on my face. I say relatively innocent, because the conversation was making plans for more.
"I'm free Friday, if you are?" he asked with a wry grin because he knew full well how busy I was in my life as a full-time mother who had little mothering to actually do while my son was at school. The date was set quickly - I'd follow him back to his after dropping the kids off and we'd spend the day together.
There was no need to say what we'd be doing.
Unlike the first two times of intimacy, this time I could prepare for him. I found out lingerie and a dress I'd not worn in years, woke early to put on a tasteful amount of makeup, and felt giddy and alive as I drove Jake to school.
Even Chris had made an effort. He'd had a haircut, his beard was neatly trimmed and I could smell a moderately expensive aftershave on him as we stood close with our arms just lightly touching as we waved our children goodbye.
The drive to his feels like an age such was my anticipation. To finally have alone time with him, to finally be able to cry out his name as he fucks me, was something I badly needed to be able to do.
His home is nothing compared to my own. Sat in the middle of a busy street, the car I'm driving is perhaps worth more than the rest of the other cars on the street combined. And his house is tiny in comparison too. Not that it bothered me in the slightest - I'd come from a lower middle-class family and this area was not so different from where I'd grown up.
There was little to say about his home, simply because I didn't care for any of it. All I cared about was how good Chris felt as he pushed me against the wall the moment the door was shut behind us. We kissed fiercely, hands all over one another, fingers sliding under clothes in a desperate need to touch each other's bodies.
For all the effort I'd made my clothes were soon off, and between us we created little stepping stones from his front door to his bedroom. There was no need for foreplay, not with how we were both feeling.
I couldn't pretend this was a one off anymore. Not after that day of incredible, mind-blowing sex. Every touch from him along my naked body was electric, feeding me to fuck him with an energy I didn't realise I had anymore. The day followed a similar routine throughout - we'd fuck, we'd talk and rest and cuddle, and then we'd fuck again. Each time it would be a little different, both of us keen to try new positions as well as finally getting to taste one another.
I knew I wanted more, regardless of the risks. Like a flower hidden from the sun for too long, I craved it now it was in my life again. I was a renewed mother and housewife, even if I wasn't particularly close to Joel still. Not that he noticed really, and that suited me well enough.
There was only one man's hands I wanted on me now.
The problem was getting that time. Regardless of how free with my time I was, Chris did have a job to do. And he couldn't just not work just because - his daughter needed a roof over her head and despite my desperate lust for him, I could at least understand.
As it was I didn't have to wait long anyway.
Two weeks after our day together, just before the school broke up for holidays, there was a parent's evening at the school. It was only when I was preparing for heading out when the thought occurred that Chris would be at the same evening. All alone.
The thought certainly changed my opinion on what to wear. Suddenly the figure hugging jeans and woolen jumper weren't anywhere near convenient enough. Instead it was boots, a knee-length denim skirt, black boots and a top with a plunging neckline. And no panties - they would only get in the way.
Unfortunately, my appearance didn't go unnoticed by my husband.
"Like that?" he said, looking up from his laptop as I was about to leave the house, eyes judging me over his glasses. "You're going out like that?"
"Like what?" I demand.
"Like a whore."
I laugh softly. "You think a whore dresses this well? There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing. If it's that much of a problem, you go!"
That shuts him up - Joel turns back to his laptop and mutters something under his breath and I quickly leave - apparently my time with Chris has given me something of a backbone again, one I can't ever remember having before with my husband.
It wasn't like he was far wrong. Despite my own self-esteem issues, the time with Chris had awoken in me the fact I wasn't entirely past my sell by date. There were plenty of lingering looks from teachers and parents, and disapproving glances from some of the mum's from the school run.
There was only one person whose attention I wanted though.
When Chris finally sees me his eyes widen. And then a knowing smile grows on his lips before he turns away to continue to speak with a teacher. Playing it cool, apparently. A game I'm happy to play.
Pulling my phone out of my purse, I quickly send a text.
"Very coy. Maybe I'll see you in class 6b?"
With the message sent, I make my excuses and leave the hall where the parents and teachers are talking and make my way through the empty corridors of the school. It's a risk, but the risk is what makes it all the more enticing to me. That and I've waited long enough to be with Chris again.
Class 6b is at the far side of the small school. I don't turn the light on as I enter, preferring the streetlights filtering through the windows. I move to the large wooden desk used by the teacher and perch on it, facing the open door of the classroom and waiting for Chris to hopefully arrive.
In the few minutes that follow I feel some doubt about what I'm doing. It is one thing to have done what we've done already, but to fuck inside a school where anyone could see us? It was too dangerous, surely.
Those feelings of danger though are amplified in the best possible way when I start to hear the echo of footsteps in the hall outside, slowly getting louder and louder. Each step seems to quicken my heart in my chest, and I feel the urge to rush out to Chris and drag him into the room. Instead I stay put, wanting to appear cool as he always seems.
