The Extreme Lengths People Go to Cheat On Their Partners

Like murder, cheating on your partner can happen in the third, second or first degree. At one end of the scale is the odd pilly snog with a random that you pretend didn't happen, on the other is pre-meditated cold-blooded adultery. These people go to extreme lengths to deceive: second phones, second homes, second wives, hotel reservations made under fake names; infidelities that are less an accidental inebriated fumble and more a determined effort to be an unfaithful piece of shit.

We spoke to some of these little pieces of shit below. Names have obviously been changed. Except for one. Not telling you which.

I constantly cheated on my girlfriend at university, from about a month into the relationship. We were together on and off for about four years. We lived in the same halls and I would bump into her regularly, so I would have to make up excuses for where I was going. A convenience when it comes to cheating as a student means that, if all else fails, you can always pretend that you're going to the library, so that's what I would do when I was just going to different halls. The girl I was fucking lived with two of my girlfriend's friends, but for some reason no one suspected anything dodgy, or maybe they knew what was happening and just never told her. One time I did actually go to the library, but that was to fuck the other girl in the fifth-floor toilets. Once, one of my friends was away for the weekend and let me use his flat for my fuckboy antics; we stayed there from Thursday night to Monday night just fucking and eating Domino's and watching Breaking Bad. I told my girlfriend I'd gone home to visit my parents for the weekend.

My girlfriend never found out about any of it, as far as I know. We're no longer together, but we're still pretty good friends, and if she ever finds out it will be so peak. I also drunkenly fucked one of her friends at some point during our relationship, and I'm more scared she will find out about that, to be honest. I feel like a bad person, but the other girl's vagina was tight as fuck and I still loved my girlfriend. I was just a horny little dickhead and wanted to fuck everything that moved.

There was a (particularly) messy time in my life where I was caught between two boyfriends – one was my ex and the other was the next. Unfortunately, the relationship with the next was long-distance and complicated, and my relationship with the ex offered incredible mind-blowing sex on demand – something that any woman can tell you is hard to let go of.

With the next, we started off just having sex in his car, eventually progressing to sneaking him into my room when my housemates were at work, with the thrill that comes with the possibility of being caught making the sex even hotter. He had to leave out the window a few times. After a few months of this we decided to go away for the weekend so we could just fuck without having to worry about interruptions for 48 hours, so I bought us a hotel getaway on Groupon and told my housemates that I was going to stay at my parents for the weekend. My boyfriend never found out, but I eventually came clean to him myself – he didn't really give a shit, to be honest, which I guess is pretty cool? Or not, depending if you're into jealousy.

I was at a house party with my now ex-girlfriend. The girl who was hosting the party was being really nice to me and my girlfriend all night, and was saying she wanted to hang out with us again, so at some point we exchanged numbers. I was low-key infatuated with her, and thought she might be on it too, but I was with my girlfriend and eventually we left to go back to hers around 3AM. I couldn't stop thinking about fucking the other girl, and eventually decided to tell my girlfriend that I'd forgotten something important at the party and was going to go back to get it. I called her up and she said everyone was still partying and that it was cool for me to come back round, but when I arrived the only people there were her and one of our mutual friends.

We were all pretty drunk and high, and there was still booze and drugs floating about, so the three of us continued partying. A couple of hours went past and, before I knew it, it was 7AM. The third person had just left and I was about to get ready to head off back to my girlfriend's with my tail between my legs when she asked if I could stay for a minute and help her move stuff back into her room. I did, and the next thing I knew she was completely naked. One thing led to another, we had sex several times and I stayed at hers until late the next afternoon. When my girlfriend tried getting hold of me I told her I'd decided to crash at a friend's house around the corner from the party as I'd missed the bus and no Ubers wanted to pick me up. She believed me and never found out any different. I do and I don't regret it – I was in a shitty, loveless relationship, but I still shouldn't have done it, and I should have at the very least told her the truth afterwards.

When I was at university one of the girls I lived with was cheating on her boyfriend back home with not one but two of the guys that lived with us. It was so messy and everyone felt so awkward every time he'd come up to stay with her – everyone apart from the guy she was cheating with, who didn't seem to feel any kind of way at all. She'd make all these elaborate excuses for why she couldn't see him on the weekends – mostly blaming deadlines – and he just accepted it. It was a bit obvious their relationship wasn't going to last, and eventually it all blew up in her face when her boyfriend came round for a surprise visit. She'd told him she couldn't come down to see him for the weekend because she was ill, so he came up to cheer her up and found her in bed with one of the other guys. They broke up and she started going out with the guy she'd been caught with. I have no other how the other guy felt about it, but he was a sideman to a sideman so that's life really.

A couple of years ago, when I was unemployed, I decided to try my hand at being a small-time shotter. I was smoking a lot of weed and I had a bike to get around on, so I thought it wouldn't be too much of a stretch from my normal life. I soon realised I was fucking shit at being a weed-man, but I also realised that having a burner made it incredibly easy to text other women without being found out. I was living with my girlfriend at the time, who used to go through my texts regularly, but for some reason she never bothered checking the burner, assuming it was for my shitty weed business that she didn't support and tried to ignore. I started sneaking out to see this other girl a lot; she would buzz me on the burner asking for a Q, which meant she was home alone – oh, she had a boyfriend too. I'd tell my girlfriend I was going out to do a couple drops, then go fuck this other girl and come back. I think we kept it up for a good six months before my girlfriend realised I was making absolutely no money from my "business", put two and two together and kicked me out. I deserved it.

More Cheating on VICE:

When Does Constant Texting Count as Cheating?

People in Relationships Tell Us Their Fantasies of Single Life What Goes Through Your Mind When You're Caught Cheating