"This is about It's true that one of the first men I meet fits that profile perfectly. tells me he can't have the kind of sex he wants to have with his wife because she's unwilling, and, on some level, he doesn't want to do those sorts of things with her.
He complains that she performs oral sex as if it were a chore.
There are the ones who just want to meet to have sex; you can tell because their handles are direct and uncomplicated: Yours4Lust and Deep Passion Man.
They list measurements and ask for yours, as though it's merely a matter of fitting one puzzle piece into another. Instead, I respond to the thoughtful ones, whose tales might help answer my questions.
He tells me he had a brief affair with a woman from one of his company's offices.
He joined Ashley Madison because that encounter left him wanting more. "Everything about her consumed my thoughts, and that's when I first signed up.
By definition, Ashley Madison, a dating site for cheaters, is a disreputable place. Your first impulse may be to throw your arms up in rage and condemn its members, the ones trawling for an affair or the chance to talk dirty in an instant message. I set out to ask married men on the site not only why they cheat, but why they do it so boldly, admitting their recklessness and confessing their betrayals on the Internet as though their morality and fidelity were items up for auction on e Bay. One of the men has a tagline on his profile that reads, "At your cervix, madam." Within moments of signing in, instant messages flush my screen, emails and winks from muscular men and men much older than me and young ones and proud fathers and one gray grandfather, worming out like monsters from the baseboards. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised: 68 percent of the site's members are men, and their average age is 44 — right in his demographic. Some wax their chests and others are darkly forested.
To get started, I create a profile with a fake name and a dark picture of myself and chart a plan. Then I'll meet a few of them for a drink, but there will be no drunkenness. I say I'm scared to live the rest of my life with unexplored desire. But my jaw hits the ground anyway when I realize whom I'm looking at. One man takes a picture in front of his 1987 Camaro, parked outside of a diner.
We talk about books, and he says his wife doesn't excite this part of his brain.But most have taken their pictures recently and surreptitiously.In their bathrooms with their i Phones held up to the mirror, their faces partially obscured, their wives' J'adore behind them, on top of the toilet.Dammit, dammit, dammit."All of the men tell me that their wives would never guess they are doing this. "I've never been caught." This one has had affairs before.He has gone home to his wife after renting a room and having sex there with another woman. is in his mid-30s and works in finance, though he wanted to be a scientist. The screen on his phone is taken up by an image of his baby daughter; he moves it aside with his thumb and forefinger to search for a book I tell him he would like. has trouble with eye contact, so he says to his water, "You're beautiful."He has never eaten caviar, so we order a flight.