THE school gates – AKA a breeding ground for adultery where women who are neglected in their marriages are completely fair game.
A place where a man like me, a serial cheat who goes by the online pseudonym of Dark Horse, can go in search of fresh meat.
Chit chat is usually dull and full of disrespect for teachers who are only trying to do their best.
If not that, then it’s the backlash from the savagery that stirs in the school Facebook group. Unnecessary spite.
Mums do this because they’re bored – trapped in loveless, sexless and humdrum marriages. They’re the sort who reward themselves with a glass of wine for getting through the bedtime routine with their sanity intact.
They crave adventure, excitement, and I’m happy to provide it.
So is it any surprise their heads turn when it’s my turn to do the school run?
It’s at the school gates where I stumbled into a flirt-fest. Just a regular Tuesday, and bam!
Our eyes locked over the chaos of kids and backpacks — it was like finding a secret level in a video game right there at the school gates.
Me, the unofficial king of sneaky flings, was caught off guard. School runs turning into hot gossip? That was new.
This wasn’t your garden-variety natter; it felt like the start of my next great adventure – or my next big mess.
‘I have three on the go right now’
In a world where the phrase ‘happily married’ often gets eye-rolls, I found myself thinking, why not stir the pot?
I’ve been married for 12 years and have cheated the entire time.
I LOVE my wife to bits but I stray . . . a lot. I cheated on all the women who came and went before her but I don’t feel an ounce of guilt about any of it.
Girlfriends, side chicks, mistresses — whatever you want to call them — I have three on the go right now and it gives me a buzz saying it aloud.
I call all my women “babe”, including my wife, so there is no danger of mixing them up.
Seven out of ten… On my best day
Some might argue I am a sociopath. Others might call me a legend.
But I’m neither. I’m just a regular man with a crutch, much the same as someone who drinks more alcohol than they should.
I’d love to tell you I have a six-pack and drive a Ferrari but I’m probably a “seven out of ten” on my best day.
Our first chat at school drop off that regular Tuesday was innocent enough, laughing over the bedlam of the morning rush — classic school gate bonding.
But then, there was this spark, a cheeky grin that lingered a bit too long, and suddenly, it wasn’t just about the kids’ lunch menus anymore.
And despite being a veteran at this game, this surprise flirtation threw me for a loop, sparking a battle between the rush of the chase and the nagging voice of conscience in my head.
My wife’s friend.
Sharing secrets like teens
The game changed with a single Instagram DM — her name popping up on my phone was like the start of a new quest.
That “hello” might as well have been a “brace yourself” for what was about to unfold.
Suddenly, we weren’t just two parents making small talk by the school gates; we were in uncharted territory, tiptoeing around a digital Pandora’s box.
Our nightly chats turned from “Did you see the homework they got?” to sharing secrets like we were teenagers, not parents.
It was all happening under the cover of night, our real selves peeking out from behind the parent-teacher meeting facades.
Then she dropped the bomb — a straight-up invitation to take things further.
‘What if our secret got out?’
Suddenly, I’m in the middle of an epic internal tug-of-war.
The allure of the forbidden is my kryptonite, always has been. But this time, the stakes felt different.
I see women with their eyes on me, they can’t deny it, and I know they want it – you probably do too?
Dark Horse
It wasn’t just about the thrill anymore; it was about the aftermath.
What if our little secret got out? Imagine the gossip at the PTA meetings, or worse, it getting back to my kid.
So, here I am, caught between a rock and a hot place. She’s like something out of a fantasy, her Instagram a scroll of temptation.
Teetering on the ‘titillating’ edge
The thrill is overpowering. Our kids, sharing crayons by day and us, their parents, tangled up in a mess.
The thought of playground whispers keeps me invested, but the collateral damage to my kid’s world means I’m teetering on the titillating edge.
If it isn’t her, I know it will be someone else – it’s just a question of time because cheating is inevitable, it’s an addiction. And it’s why I use my blog Cheatershandbook as an outlet.
How can I possibly resist the pull when so many women at the classroom door have their eyes on me? I know they stare.
And this is why I will go back to the gates on Tuesday, and every possible day after that in search of my next conquest. I’m also a good dad – the sort who would never shirk the school run.
I see women with their eyes on me, they can’t deny it, and I know they want it – you probably do too?
