Shibari Lovers

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There is a moment when you know you’re going to have an affair. Everyone who has cheated knows it. You feel as if you were standing in front of a cliff, and you decide to jump, even if you know that the landing is going to be a disaster. I knew Danny and I would become Shibari lovers. And we wouldn’t be able to help it.

I guess I should’ve started by saying that Danny is a rigger. Also, I should have said that I’ve had a lifelong fascination with the kinky lifestyle. When I married him, my husband made me promise I would quit bondage. He’s a nice man, but he’s more vanilla than Aurora Teagarden. Anyway, I promised I would quit the kinky lifestyle, even though I wasn’t sure I would be able to fulfill my promise. I wasn’t sure that it was the right thing to do, either.

And for ten years, I kept my promise. But bondage called me back to the ropes. I told my husband I would go to the cinema with my friends and, instead, I would end up in the first row of a Shibari exhibition. Why deny it? I just couldn’t help it.

I saw Danny one night, and that was it. Within me, I knew he had to be mine. I was married, and he was married, but the spark between us was too strong. Actually, it was more like lightning. It blinded is. It burned us to the bone.

I hired him for a private scene, and we ended up having wild sex for hours. I attended every exhibition he did, even though he used to act with his wife. And then, on one occasion, when she got injured, I applied as a substitute. Of course, Danny and I pretended that we had never met before.

What can I say? It’s wrong, and we both know it. Sooner or later, the people we love are going to get hurt. We both know that. It’s just that we can’t help it. We’re Shibari lovers, and the rest of the world can send us to hell.

This is my Shibari story.

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