Naughty Badger: Confessional – Jackie

If you can read this you are on the carefully selected confessional filter. Things within must never be discussed if we meet in person unless I broach the subject first.

I met Jackie online some years back before I got married. She was then about 36, married, three kids and living in Bolton. We’d known of each other for sometime through the chat room we used to frequent and our various adventures there in. We used to flirt harmlessly (still do to some extent) and had regular chats. Jackie’s husband was a nasty piece of work and very domineering so I suppose chat rooms were a form of escapism for Jackie. Because of the nature of chat rooms we tended to keep a lot of personal information to ourselves like where we lived, our full names and other such details thus to minimise the threat of stalkers (see future post).

Around that same time it came to pass that Jackie was visiting some friends in Runcorn and she invited me along to their little party. I went and met lots of other chatters, names I was familiar with but never actually spoke to. I felt uncomfortable because I was surrounded by strangers when really what I wanted to do was to chat to Jackie. A few hours later I’d had enough so I made my excuses to leave. Jackie offered to wait with me for the cab outside, which I thought was nice. As we waited and we got closer, that magic spark clicked. That magic spark, which, the only way to quell the energy, is to embrace passionately and snog. I was a bit taken aback. I wasnt used to women launching themselves at me in such a fashion. Still it was nice and I really felt down when my cab came as I wanted to stay.

A few months later I was invited to another chatroom meet with people I regularly chatted with. Jackie said she was going too and could she have a lift. I agreed to pick her up from Preston and we drove to our destination. It was a nice journey, uneasy at first, but eventually we got chatting. I often found it strange that chatting via IRC was easier than in face to face situations. None the less we warmed up to each other again. When we neared our destination I asked Jackie where she was staying for the meet. She looked at me coyly and said “I thought I could stay with you” to which I got butterflies

Never one to refuse a lady you can imagine how I felt this, coupled with an afternoon of alcohol, led to unforeseen events. To cut a long and explicit story short, we “did things” that consenting adults do that night for the majority of the night and through to the small hours. If it wasnt for the long journey back that awaited the next day we probably wouldnt have stopped. The journey back was weird. Both of us, I imagine, reflecting on what we had done in that sometimes uncomfortable post coital silence. Halfway back she told me how she was thinking of leaving her husband and thanked me for helping her to make up her mind that it was the right thing to do. I quickly checked that her future plans didn’t involve me and was rewarded with an affirmation that whatever she was planning to do did not include me. I dropped her at Preston, we kissed and lingered. She thanked me for the most enjoyable weekend she had had in a long long while and I thanked her. We then went our separate ways.

Like I said, this was sometime ago and before I got married. We haven’t seen each other since we parted at Preston. Jackie now lives in Weston-Super-Mare and works as a head chef in a hotel, having escaped her abusive relationship with her now ex-husband. We still stay in contact regularly but until now have kept our special weekend to ourselves.

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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