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[Sometimes when I lie awake at night I imagine what it would be like to have an affair. And as I fall asleep these imaginations often turn to dreams. One such dream, a particularly nice one, has recurred several times--most recently last night. So this morning I decided to see if I could put it into words and maybe post it as a story. I had to embellish a little because some of the details aren't clear, but I had no idea it would be this long. I guess when you're asleep at night you've got plenty of time to kill. Anyway, here it is. I'm going away on a little extended weekend vacation with my family tomorrow, so if you want you can read this post in chunks and spread it out until I get back next week. Goodness knows it's long enough. Regardless, I hope everyone has a nice weekend.]

The dream is about a girl that I met from blogging. She doesn't really exist, but rather, she seems to be a composite of several people. She is a second-year grad student at some university out west. For the sake of argument, let's say it's in Seattle, although its not totally clear from the dream. She had a boyfriend for a few years when she was an undergrad but eventually they grew apart and decided to go their separate ways. He meant a lot to her. He was her first boyfriend, and she gave her virginity to him. And although she knows it was time for them to break up she still misses him sometimes. She moved away to Seattle for grad school partly because she wanted to start a new life, a new beginning, in a new city. But like many grad students she discovered that grad school isn't quite the same as undergrad. She lives in an apartment off campus and hasn't had much opportunity to make new friends. She's met a few of the students in her classes, but a lot of them are married and some are starting families, so they don't have much time to socialize. She is a confident, independent young woman, but sometimes she admits that she is a little lonely. Sometimes she longs for the crazy times as an undergrad. All her friends, the parties, her boyfriend. Somehow her small bed seems too big for one person, and some nights she lies awake in bed wishing she had someone to hold her tight.

Of course I have my own kind of loneliness to deal with. I have someone in my bed, and I can hold her any time I want. I can usually even take off her nightie when I feel like I need to have her naked body against me. But that's about where it usually ends, so to me the relationship is incomplete. I need more.

In my dream this girl doesn't have a name, but let's call her Maddie. Maddie and I become good friends through comments, emails, and IM. We like to tease each other. Sometimes things get a little racy, but never quite to the point of cybersex. I find myself checking my email more often because her messages always make me smile. Sometimes we stay up way too late at night IM'ing each other, saying nothing in particular, but keeping each other company. There's no need to hold anything back, so we tell each other a lot--even more than we might share if we were dating. There are no expectations. No plans.

And then one day my boss asks me to go to a week-long conference in Seattle. All of a sudden I feel butterflies in my stomach. Seattle? OMG. Do I tell Maddie? Of course I should, but... Will she want to see me? Should I see her? What would we do together? Meet for lunch? Go out in the evening? I could see things getting out of hand very quickly. Of course I've thought about what it would be like to have sex with her. I've masturbated to a mental image of her, but... Wait a minute, though. I'm jumping the gun here. Maybe she won't even want to see me. Maybe she'll be too busy that week or maybe we'll decide that it's just not a good idea to get together.

But you know that's not what happens. And the next thing I know I'm on a plane to Seattle with Maddie's phone number in my wallet. I'm supposed to call her when I check into my hotel. By then it will be early Monday evening and her classes will be done for the day. We're going to meet for dinner.

I get to my hotel room and unpack my bag. I call my wife to let her know I arrived safely. I tell her I love her. When I hang up the phone I hold my finger on the switchhook for a few moments, nervously playing with the piece of paper that has Maddie's phone number on it. Tentatively I release the switchhook and hear the dial tone. I dial 9 for an outside line. I hang up. What am I doing? I have a wife. I shouldn't be doing this. But Maddie is waiting for my call. And it's just dinner, right? There's no harm in meeting a girl for dinner is there? I complete the call. It's ringing.

"Hello?" Her voice is pretty. Soft. Young.

"Maddie?" I say, "It's KT."

I can tell she's a little nervous too, but she also sounds glad I called. I give her my hotel room number and she says she'll be over in about an hour. Time to kill. Too much time. I turn on the news but I don't hear anything they're saying. I pace around the room. I decide to take a shower and shave. We decided we would dress casually so I put on a pair of cotton slacks and a polo shirt. The clock by the bed says 6:32 when I hear a knock at the door. I open it, and there she is. Just like her picture, but then again not at all like her picture. She has the look of a grad student. Studious, intellectual, very slightly geeky. But beautiful. She's wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt that is stretchy, kind of tight, with a boatneck collar that shows off her neck and shoulder blades. We hug. It feels good. Very good. Too good.

I invite her in and ask her where we're going for dinner. That was part of our plan. She has to pick the place since she lives here. But I'm paying since it's really just going on the company per diem anyway. She has made reservations at an Italian place near my hotel which turns out to be excellent. The place is dark and intimate. Brick walls and gas lights give it an older charm. Our table is quiet and secluded with a little candle. There is some initial awkwardness, but that fades and soon we are both feeling relaxed and comfortable. We talk through the meal and before we know it it's time to pay the check. I ask her if there's anyplace we can go for a walk and she suggests the waterfront since it's just a few blocks away. Outside it's misty, not quite drizzling, but enough for a jacket. The water in the air creates a halo affect around the street lamps. Without even really thinking about it I reach for her hand and she accepts it. We walk, hand in hand, down to the piers and along the waterfront, past the shops and the ferry landing. Sometimes talking, sometimes savoring the silence and the sounds of the city at night.

Eventually we stop and turn to face the water. The lights across the sound cast interesting patterns in the wakes of the ferries and other boats. I stand behind her and look over her head. Her hair smells nice, like shampoo, not perfume. I place my hands on her shoulders and she gently leans back against me. My heart is thumping. I'm feeling feelings I haven't felt in years. Slowly I move my hands down along her arms to her waist and then forward, clasping them in front of her. This feels so good. So right. How can something that feels this beautiful be wrong? I move my head down and gently press my lips against the back of her head. She sighs gently and clasps her hands around mine. We stay that way for a long time. And as we stand there, watching the lights of the boats moving back and forth on the water, I make a decision that may well be the most important decision of my life. I'm not going to fight it. Eight years of marriage and I am lonely. I need this. Really, it's come down to this or a divorce, and I don't want a divorce. That would be awful. Bad for the kids. Bad for my wife. Bad for me. Maybe this is the answer. I know it's not ideal. It certainly isn't what I had in mind eight years ago. But then again I also didn't plan on being ignored by my wife.

"Would you like to come back to my room?" I ask, breaking the silence. She turns around and looks up at me. Her eyes are beautiful. She's nervous. She looks down and buries her face in my chest. "I don't know," she says, her voice muffled. "I mean... yes... I do... but..." She looks back up at me. Silently, I reach down and take her hand. She doesn't say anything. We turn and head towards the hotel.

"You know, if we do this," I say, "We can only have this one week. Then it's over. You know that, right? I mean, once I go back home..."

"I know," she says, "The last thing you need is to have me calling you while you're eating dinner with your family. Don't worry, I won't. Once you leave it'll be like it was before. Just IM and stuff."

I think about that for a moment and then say, "It won't be the same."

She doesn't say anything for a few seconds and then, "Maybe not."

We continue on in silence for a few more minutes and then I say, "I've got a wife and kids to go home to. But you, you know, you're here all alone. I want to do this, but I just want to make sure you're up to starting something that's going to end so quickly."

"I'll be OK," she says, looking off into the distance. I can tell she's not sure about it. But I don't know what else to say. We walk the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.

When we get back to the hotel room I put on the "do not disturb" sign and lock the door behind us. But the awkwardness has returned. We sit on the bed making smalltalk, neither one of us wanting to be the first to make a move.

"Would you like a toothbrush?" I ask.

She laughs, "What? Does my breath smell?"

"No!" I say, realizing how that must have sounded. I laugh too. "I was just realizing that you don't have anything with you, and there's one of those complimentary hotel toothbrushes in the bathroom. You know, if you're going to spend the night and all."

"Oh, right." she laughs again. But it's still awkward.

Then I have an idea. "Maybe we shouldn't go too far tonight," I say. "You know? I mean, God knows I want to have sex with you..."

She looks down at her lap and smiles. I think she's blushing. I continue, "But maybe we should just, kind of, take it easy? I do want you to spend the night, though. That is, if you still want to."

She looks back up at me, smiling, "OK," she says. "It feels kind of weird what with you being married and all, and I just... I don't know. I mean..."

"Believe me," I say. "It's not exactly an everyday occurrence for me either! Let's just not push ourselves, OK? I want to enjoy our time together. I don't want it to be stressful."

"OK," she says. "That feels good."

We decide that we should watch a pay-per-view movie. I don't know what movie it is--the dream isn't clear on that--but I'm guessing it's some sort of romance film. At the risk of sounding kind of metrosexual I'll admit that I like romantic movies. Maybe because they fill a gap that's missing in my life. I don't know.

"Do you have a t-shirt I can wear?" she asks as I'm getting the movie set up.

"Yeah. Check in my bag over there. I brought several t-shirts to wear in the evenings, after work."

She finds a shirt that says "Microsoft" on it. "Microsoft?" she asks with a giggle. "That's kind of geeky. Why do you have a Microsoft shirt?"

"It was free," I laugh. "They give them out at these conferences. I got that one a few years ago at a show in Boston."

And then my heart skips a beat as I watch her take off the shirt she's wearing. She has on a plain, white bra with just a tiny bit of lacey trim. Practical. Nothing fancy. I had already noticed her breasts much earlier in the evening. The stretchy shirt she had chosen was very flattering in that respect. She wasn't big. A B-cup? Maybe an A? I'm not too good at determining that sort of thing. Whatever size they are, they are perfect. I have to shift a little to allow some more space in my pants. And the next thing I know she reaches around behind her back and, looking off at nothing in particular, she undoes the clasp, pulls the straps down off her shoulders, and takes off her bra. Then, still looking off into space, she picks up my t-shirt and puts it on. Next, she lies down on the bed, unzips her jeans and pulls them off. She's wearing a pair of plain white cotton bikinis. She then gathers her jeans, her shirt, and her bra up in a ball and tosses them on the other bed.

"I guess I'll go use that toothbrush now," she says, standing up. The big t-shirt looks like a nightshirt on her, coming down to her thighs. She heads for the bathroom. But in the doorway she pauses, turns, and looks back at me, smiling. OK. She knows what she just did to me. Was she teasing me? No. I don't think so. Not really. She seems comfortable now since the pressure of sex has been lifted. I think she really just wanted to show me a bit of her body because she knew I'd like it. I give her a big smile in return and she disappears into the bathroom. While she's in there I change into boxers and a t-shirt. The movie is about to start so I turn down the lights and hop into bed. In a minute she comes out of the bathroom and climbs into bed with me.

Under the covers, sitting up against a pillow, with Maddie snuggled against my shoulder I feel like I haven't felt in years. I feel like a teenager again. I put my arm around her and she snuggles a little closer. After the movie we fall asleep in each other's arms. It is the best sleep I've had in a long time.

For the next four days things continue in largely the same pattern. During the day I attend the conference and she goes to class. In the evening we get together. It's clear that, even though she's lived here for over a year, she really doesn't know too much about the city. What little exploring she's done has been mostly on her own with no one to show her around. And even that has been limited as she has spent the majority of her time focused on her school work. But this week is different. Almost like a vacation. She lets a few things slide at school, and the two of us spend our evenings checking out the city. One evening we take a car ferry across the sound and stop for dinner at a waterfront seafood restaurant on the other side. Another evening we explore the Space Needle. And another evening we just drive out into the suburbs with no particular destination in mind, ending up at a nondescript chain restaurant. But it doesn't matter what we do. The fun comes from just being together. At night, back at my hotel room, we cuddle and fall asleep together, exploring a little bit, but holding back at the same time. We briefly consider spending a night at her place, but then I realize that I have to stay at the hotel in case my wife should call in the middle of the night. I call my wife each night while Maddie sits on the bed and listens, sometimes smiling. She especially likes to hear me talk to my kids.

The days at the conference go by slowly, but the nights go by fast. And before long it is late Friday evening and she's sitting there on the bed wearing the same "Microsoft" t-shirt that she's worn every night this week. She watches as I pack for my return flight the next morning.

"I better call the front desk and make sure I can get a taxi to the airport tomorrow," I say.

"No. I'm driving you, silly," she says, "I'm not gonna let you disappear that easily."

"Oh, OK. Are you sure? You'll miss your first class."

"I'm sure," she says.

Then it finally hits me. Our week is over. Tomorrow I'll be heading home. And the reality of it is that I may never see Maddie again. Suddenly I feel an incredible wave of sadness come over me. I look over at her and I realize that she feels it too.

"It's been so fun this week, Maddie. I don't want to go home."

"I don't want you to go," she says quietly. "But there's no two ways about it. You have to go. Your kids are waiting for you. Your wife is waiting for you."

"We may never see each other again," I say.

There is a long silence as I finish packing. She continues to sit on the bed, watching. And then, as I finish putting the last item in my bag I hear her say my name, but it sounds funny. She clears her throat and says it again, "KT?"

I look over at her. And then, looking back at me, she slowly and deliberately takes off the "Microsoft" shirt. She wads it up in a ball and holds it tightly in her lap, still looking at me. "Come here," she says, her voice seeming to shake a little.

And once again I am struck by her plain, no-frills beauty as she sits there. Her hair down around her shoulders. The piercing, determined gaze of her pretty eyes. The pale skin of her naked chest. The soft pink of her nipples. Her bare legs, crossed indian style. And those white cotton bikini undies, hidden mostly by the balled-up t-shirt that she is clutching so tightly.

There is no stopping this time. No more hesitation. I climb onto the bed and kneel in front of her.

"I'm ready now," she whispers.

"We're both ready," I say.

Normally some sort of foreplay would be in order, but I realize that that's what we've been doing all week. All week long we've been skirting around the issue of sex. Flirting. Teasing. And now the desire is so strong that it is crushing. Burning. The need to physically bond is overpowering. She is so ready. Before I know it I have laid her down on her back. Her bikinis are off. My t-shirt and boxers are off. I move to spread her legs, but she beats me to it, lying there open for me. And as I thrust into her our eyes lock and we become as one. Feeling the same feelings. Thinking the same thoughts. When we cum it is like nothing either of us has ever felt before. And as she screams I see the tears running down her face.

We give each other everything that night. Over and over our bodies convulse with orgasms as we taste and touch and explore. And in the pre-dawn hour when we finally fall asleep we hold each other so tightly, never wanting to let go.

Later, at the airport, the tears come again. This time for both of us. We hold each other tight for what seems like an eternity. But eventually the plane is ready to depart. I am the last one to board, and as I walk down the gangway and turn the corner I look back and wave. I almost can't handle it. The image of her standing there at the other end of the gangway with her hand in the air and tears in her eyes will be forever engraved in my mind.

I am in a trance most of the way home. But as the plane starts to descend and I see the familiar landscape of my city a wave of happiness overcomes me. Maybe things will be different now. After all, I got what I wanted, right? As the plane taxis to the gate I make a vow to myself. From now on my marriage will be better. I will try to love my wife for what she can give me, and I will stop keeping score. I won't tell her about my affair with Maddie. Some people would say that's wrong. But there are worse wrongs. And frankly, if this wrong keeps us from divorce then maybe it's not so wrong after all.

When I come in the door at home they're all waiting for me. There are hugs for everyone. But the biggest, longest hug is for my wife. For the first time in a long time I am genuinely happy to be in her arms.

And as the days turn to months and the months turn to years, things do get better. The kids get older and easier to handle. Our stress levels drop. And wouldn't you know it, my wife's desire for sex actually begins to come back.

Do I have other affairs? Yes. A few. Once you start it's hard to stop. But they happen less and less as time goes on. And Maddie? I never do see her again. But we remain friends. It is different than it was before, but it's still fun to IM her from time to time. Eventually she gets married and I don't hear from her so much anymore. But I think she's happy. She would tell me if she wasn't.

Oh, and she still has the "Microsoft" shirt. She says she wears it to bed sometimes when her husband is out of town.

[Well, there you go. That's the dream. I'm glad I wrote it down. I like most of it. But in a way it's kind of sad too. I'm not sure I like the way it ends so abruptly with Maddie. Anyway, see you next week.]