real life

"I could have f*cked your husband last night."

On his way home





Let’s be upfront here ladies. This information I am about to anonymously tell you may save your marriage. I could have fucked your husband last night. I was going to but I didn’t.

A few facts about me: 37 years young, separated for some time, two kids, 69kg, non smoker, hell yeah for a drink or two and happy for a chat.

A f*ck is optional because I am actually really desperate for a man to touch me like I am the most gorgeous woman on earth.

Deprivation of the emotional and physical kind will do it to you after a decade and then some of a loveless marriage.

This is basically my “welcome mat” profile.  Does that sound like someone your husband would be keen to meet and picked up near his house, while his wife is in bed and he was on his way home from a bloke’s night out?

Could I have been that women? Yes, it was me.

Lucky for you – I am batting for the sisterhood – which is more important than the sexual release I sorely need.

I’ve been talking to Tradie Rob Banks (get it) for a while now. Nothing too big, just a distraction from single motherhood sadness really. You know, those lonely nights, when there comes a point you relax and clear your mind and the reality of your sh*t situation sets in? Yep. That.


Rob Banks sweetly said that he knows I had an upsetting separation of handing the kids over to their father (who doesn’t give a raised eyebrow about anything). Rob said that he hoped through the stress I’d get a nice relaxing kid free night – because mums need it.

Rob Banks writes HOT dirty stories for me, I give him the “scene” and he sends me something in an email.  Sometimes I write my own, but he is more interested in asking me about my life, what happened with my now ex-husband, what led to his affairs, what was the catalyst, why I have been so sad and how a woman like me ends up where I am now. He wants the detail.

Bit unusual don’t you think for a 33 year old single tradie?

I’ve learned that anonymity is powerful. So powerful it’s the burning hot sun that can cause blisters, or a nice tan if you use protection. So, I have obliged.

Then we got talking hot and dirty… Anyway, so there is this two way conversation of hot sexy talk happening with two different guys. I’m at home in my pj’s, just sitting in reality, feet in a bucket of hot water, doing my DIY pedi.  Familiar?

Rob Banks talks dirty some more. We decided we would meet up. We had nothing to lose, hey?

Then he fessed up that he was 38, two kids himself, married for 15 years and please not to kick him in the balls.


I could see he was on the precipice of something, something that via his questions he may not need or want. But hey, I have needs too that have been unserviced for years… like YEARS.

I drove to him, on the way I stopped and got a packet of condoms, some soft drinks, a chomp and a curly whirly from the servo, like I was 19. The Indian servo guy’s forehead crinkled as he smiled at me when I handed over the cash.

I felt no shame, I am old enough and ugly enough.

I knew where Rob was, I found him standing near a bus shelter like he said, cause when you don’t think things through and have 3% charge left on your iPhone, men do these things… Men do these things when something needs to change.

As soon as he opened the door, we both knew there would be no sexy times. But a release of another kind was required. I took him for a drive and we parked where there was a view. It being 6 degrees I said I’d leave the heating fan on.

He talked about the spice going out of his marriage. He talked about there being no time for anything, that they were all busy, driving the kids to sport, him working late, his wife not too keen for sex. He talked happily about the help he gives her in the home, how he looks after his health at the gym.

We went to schools in close proximity and he knows some people that I do. Small world.

He said that they don’t go on dates anymore, him and his wife. When they last went away, all they wanted to do was relax by themselves…. but separately…. because their lives were so busy. He felt disconnected from his wife; he felt stuck in a rut.


He talked about feeling like his life is slipping from him and he is reminded of the crazy fun shit he used to get up to and wanted to live a bit on the edge. Hence a booty call to me.

He said that he worked so hard and some days he felt like he was dying. He loves his wife but things aren’t right.

He felt things were on hold.

I asked him when did he tell her, did he just launch it out, to get it off his chest and perhaps caught her off guard? Typical man behaviour. And yes, that’s what he did.

He said there is a space now that he isn’t sure will be recovered. I listened a lot.

He asked me what my experiences were and what I’d suggest.

I said that his marriage is perfectly salvageable, he just needs to salvage it – with his wife. I told him that if you stop giving a sh*t, it means you’ve lost hope for the future.

He needs to let her know that he desperately wants to inject their love life and marriage and family with renewed energy and commitment.

That he needs to lead it.

I said that he needs to sit down and speak the brutal truth with love and compassion, respect and acknowledgement for all that she has done for their lives and family to date.


He needs to say that things have to change and give her an idea of what he will do to lead the change and the decisions and commitment they need to make together. He cannot just go on work holidays and have an awesome time, and she takes the kids to a different holiday, doing the same. It’s not about simply pursuing their own agendas, but encouraging individual growth within the couple.

He said he was a project manager, so I replied that he should project manage the f*ck out of his life and bring his lovely wife and kids with him. I said that we both have these holes that need to be filled, but his wife must be the one he fills it with.

I told him the alternative. The deep and ark alternative. Because if he wants his wife to be experiencing the f*ck hole that I am in right now, then we could have f*cked our brains out right then and there.

But no, that’s not the answer.

I dropped him off where I found him and extended my hand as a gesture of good faith. We both decided that this “interlude” was a meeting of the sexes to better understand each other and that our personal truth and intent is what’s most important.

I told him I would expect a hot story within the next week in exchange for allowing him to pick my brains. He said he would oblige.

The author of this post is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous.