Miranda’s Diary Of An Illicit Lover Part 6 – The Latino Returns. Coincidence Or Fate ?

We are now into the third and final month of my absence from the husband, who will be due back in two weeks time. The kids are over excited at the prospect of our family holiday later this month,
the dogs are restless and the ageing boiler that renders me silent for ten minutes every morning whilst I wonder if it is all going to come crashing in down on my head at any given second, is increasing its spluttering to new, ever more emphysemic levels of congestion. In other words, in many ways I miss my husband and his ability to level life’s little foibles out.

However. I was going to tell you about mine and the kids recent weekend break to the seaside and the extremely amusing evening I had recapturing my misspent youth on a trip to the countryside with the local town rebel, leather jacket and all. Instead there has been a surprising, but very intriguing development in my plan to investigate some of the less wholesome elements of my nature this year.
You may remember that in one of my early posts way back in February, I started Latin dancing and was quite literally swept off both of my left feet by the hot Latino instructor, of whom no mention has been made since. Coincidence of all coincidences, I came across him on none other than yours and my favourite illicit dating site. I didn’t even realise he was married (actually I have been telling myself he was gay in the hope of softening the blow of his continued indifference to my clumsy attempts at the salsa).

Seeing as how like many of the site members, my profile picture is kept blank to protect my modesty, I thought I would bite the bullet and send him a cheeky message (I love that the site is free to us – means I really haven’t lost anything if he doesn’t come back to me) and I was totally stunned when he messaged me back! Twenty minutes later!! I nearly bottled it at that point, as he asked lots of questions about my life and I don’t want to be identified as the rubbish one from Wednesday class. I didn’t though and it transpires that hot Latino guy has been married for a while, but the marriage, whilst not in difficulties, has been going through some hiccups shall we say for some time that are leaving both parties a bit unsure of where they are going from here.

At first I backed off a bit – I don’t really want to get involved in someone’s pre divorce practise to be honest, but then he sent me a message about how one of the things that most led him to contact me, when he was still a bit wary at even looking through the site, was how amusing my initial email to him was and how it was a bit of a turn on to have contact with someone he can’t even see. Now forgive me for being a bit naughty but I must admit that I can see the appeal. Being married undoubtedly kills the intrigue and passion that typifies the “new” leading many to look for something, well, new and different. Not better, just new. What can be more exciting than a connection based entirely on how well your own imagination works?
In his head, I could be anyone. I could sound like anyone, I could walk like anyone and I could do anything. I could be the petite blonde in the corner shop who sells him his paper most mornings. I could be the spitting image of his first love, a svelte brunette dancer, who left him for a career on the cruise ships. I could even (cough) be one of his students… And I must admit that building the fantasy for him, has left me more than a little hot and bothered. Miranda Jane’s “woman of mystery”. I quite like it really and as a result, most of my spare time has been spent pinging messages back and forwards over the last week. The messages are funny – some are deliciously laden with innuendo and whispers of sex, others hark to that great phase when you first meet someone and getting to know every little thing about them is incredibly fascinating. I caught myself laughing about one of them driving back from the school run yesterday – a time normally fraught with near collisions and frustrations.

The only really awkward moment was at class. I had to work even harder than normal not to peer at him and growl at the Lycra clad suburban salsa bunnies at the start of the class pouring themselves all over him and nearly kicked myself with frustration when my polite hello was met with the usual, rushed “hey” without meeting my eyes. Until that is at break time, when I saw him head straight for his phone to check his emails, then smile when he received the message I had carefully constructed that lunchtime. It was strange but I couldn’t wait to get away from him, so I could read what he had sent me back!

Of course I know I shall have to stop it soon – hubbie will be back and all this mail time just won’t be available and I can’t really admit to who I am now……..or can I?