It's not easy being discreet in a town where everyone knows everyone. I've lived here my whole life. My family goes back generations. This means every interaction, every glance could potentially unravel everything.
When I first started seeing escorts, I was terrified someone would recognize me. Small cities are brutal that way. A wrong turn, a misplaced moment, and suddenly your entire life could collapse. My wife's family is here. My kids grew up here. My business networks are all local.
I choose women who aren't from around Waterford. Always someone passing through, someone temporary. No local connections. No risk of running into them at the SuperValu or down by the quay. Anonymity is everything.
Sometimes I drive to Cork. It feels safer. More distance. More chances to be invisible. The guilt isn't just about the act itself. It's about potentially destroying everything I've built. My reputation. My family's standing. Everything.
But the loneliness. God, the loneliness. When your wife looks through you after thirty years of marriage, what else is there? These encounters aren't just about sex. They're about being seen. Being wanted.
Small towns. They'll kill you with silence and judgment if you let them.