She doesn't deserve what I have become and yet...

She is a good woman, a good mother, a good wife. The part of me that plays away (both mental and physical) abuses her with its selfish games and yet...

She said a beautiful thing the other day to our daughter. She said that when I'm in the room she feels better about herself. If she knew what I have become, what I do, it would shatter her into a million pieces. She doesn't deserve that, not even for the lapses she made in the last millenium.

We had sex (we didn't make love) on Saturday night.  We both wanted it, but it wasn't great.  Must be at least the second, maybe the third, time this year.  It was functional. Orgasms achieved but little passion spent.

Just one week prior I got very naughtily naked with a beautiful, tall, Amazonian air hostess. I was five miles high! I got hard just talking to her. I came as I tongued her to orgasm and listened to her moans of ecstasy, her cries of release.  I came again as she sat astride me, looking me in the eye and smiling with the control she had over me.  I want to see her again.

I can't stop this. I love sex. I love women. I love my wife. Are these things mutually exclusive? Am I deceiving myself as well as her? Or is this who I am: a good man on the outside, but a philanderer nonetheless?