James tucked his side curls behind his ears and tore off his yarmulke as he left the hotel.

Waiting for him in the parking lot in her car was a sultry brunette stranger, and they were both eager for their first date at an Italian restaurant in Omaha, Neb.

They hit it off. After the meal, they stopped at a golf course and had sex behind a hedge.

“She told me to grab a stick and kept asking me to hit her harder,” the married father recalled about the tryst that unfolded during a business trip last May. “Then she sent a photo of her black-and-blue bruises a few days later.”

It was just another night in James’ double life.

By day, he and his wife, Monica, are Hasidic Jews living in the heart of Williamsburg. But by night, the attractive 30-somethings pursue kinky sex as a swinging couple on the online dating app Tinder.

In a series of interviews granted to The Post over the last month, both revealed their secret pastime on the condition that their names and certain identifying details be changed to prevent expulsion from their religious community.

“We look the part, but don’t follow any of the rules,” Monica said of her strict Orthodox faith, as the couple dined with a reporter at a decidedly unkosher Thai restaurant.

At night, the couple regularly shed the black overcoats and floor-length skirts required by their religion, and appear like an attractive, well-off couple in trendy clothes. In his first meeting with The Post, James wore jeans and a green T-shirt, while Monica donned an orange top with dainty shoulder cut-outs, her golden-brown hair pinned in a messy bun. Her wig, which Orthodox women are required to wear in a nod to modesty, was left in the car.

When it comes to monogamy, James and Monica don’t play by the rules. Since 2014, the couple has used Tinder to swing using both separate profiles and one joint one. Each of them searches the app for individual rendezvous, or sometimes they “swipe right” together when they’ve located an attractive woman for a ménage-à-trois. They look for lovers ages 25 to 40 for “casual fun” and “emotional connections.”

Although they proclaim themselves “Hasidic” at the top of their dating profiles, the accompanying photos are anything but straightlaced. Monica’s ample bust is hugged by a shapely black bra, but her eyes are obscured by a bar. James, cropped at the neck, shows off his toned torso and upper arms.

“Looking for multicultural experience. Due to our situation, we don’t have the liberty to expose ourselves on here,” their joint profile explains.

In short bios underneath, James touts his “role play” abilities, while Monica says she “loves to laugh.”

“Please don’t be shy, say hi,” it beckons.

James describes himself as 100 percent straight, but Monica is bisexual. “She’s more like 70 percent into men, 30 into women,” he said, as Monica grinned and nodded.

The couple have a brood of children between the ages of 3 and 18. They, like all families of the Satmar sect, observe the Sabbath, go to temple every week, and speak only in Yiddish in the house or when around other members of the ultra-Orthodox community.

Naturally, they are cautious about how they woo potential conquests.

Once a hot single shows interest in them, creating a “match,” they typically make a move.

“Hi Beautiful” they usually message first. After a little back-and-forth banter, they share their phone number. They each have their own cellphones, but use a shared third phone when communicating as a couple with potential partners.

“First we like to meet at a public place and have dinner. At least if we don’t hit it off with them, we got to enjoy a nice meal,” James joked.

While waiting for a date to show up a few weeks ago, the pair sat on bar stools at a trendy Williamsburg restaurant, facing each other, their knees almost touching as they talked casually and laughed.

When the woman arrived, James placed his hand on Monica’s lower back as they stood to greet her.

‘She’s very seductive and fit. One day I came over to fix something at her place. She immediately grabbed me and took me to her bedroom.’

If all goes well on a date, they decide together how to proceed.

“Sometimes we’re both interested in someone, or sometimes just one of us is,” Monica said.

Their extramarital dalliances first began about 10 years ago, after James started flirting with a non-Jewish waitress who worked at a restaurant where he did business. After several weeks of instant-messaging with her, James was wracked with guilt. He confessed to Monica, hoping she wouldn’t be heartbroken.

Her reaction shocked him.

“I was excited by it,” Monica said. “It turned me on to know another woman desired my husband.”

As they talked about it, they realized they both craved sexual and emotional relationships outside their marriage.

They started slowly, getting “happy-ending” massages together, attending fetish parties and flirting.

Four years later, James had his first affair — with his married, Hasidic assistant.

“She’s very seductive and fit. One day I came over to fix something at her place. She immediately grabbed me and took me to her bedroom,” James said.

Afterwards James and Monica tried a threesome with the other woman.

“She came over for a sleepover, but wasn’t ready,” James recalled. “[Monica] and I were kissing and she felt like a third wheel.

“She went downstairs and slept on the couch. We were pretty disappointed.”

It was almost as disappointing as the way they first met — through a family matchmaker, just weeks before their arranged marriage. He was 20 and she was 18, both virgins, and they met just once before the nuptials.

“Though we love each other, we didn’t have that butterflies-in-your-stomach love,” said James.

But the strangers did develop chemistry in bed.

“We are very lucky. We’re actually quite attracted to each other,” Monica said.

They found that open marriage suits them better than their culture’s strict monogamy.

“We don’t have jealousy,” Monica said. “We never got to date people, so that made it easier for us.”

They even encourage love affairs with others.

“It’s been so beautiful to watch [Monica] fall in love with someone else,” James said.

Monica needs emotional connections with others before getting physical.

“She’s all about talking and vibing well with someone,” James said.

James has a taste for S&M and for the uninhibited random encounters that can come from sex outside the marriage. “If I’m with a woman and we want to have sex in the park, we can,” he said.

But with a double life comes the cost — keeping secrets from family, friends and synagogue, sheltering their children from their hidden truths, and taking many precautions.

“We don’t want to take any chances,” Monica said.

They keep their modern clothes hidden from their children and have no social media beyond their Tinder accounts. They tell everyone that their forbidden cellphones are for work purposes. They use condoms — illicit among Hasidim — religiously.

Their kids attend yeshiva. Monica keeps kosher, and they pray and sing the Torah before meals.

“No one can tell we’re different. We look traditional. We blend in,” Monica said.

With a double life comes the cost — keeping secrets from family, friends and synagogue, sheltering their children from their hidden truths, and taking many precautions.

After all, the consequences of getting caught would be dire.

“What they’re doing involves breaking a host of serious taboos,” said Hella Winston, author of “Unchosen: The Hidden Lives of Hasidic Rebels.”

Adultery is illegal under Jewish law, and offenders are punished with banishment from the community. Husbands and wives are not even allowed to touch each other during a woman’s menstruation. The sexes are kept separate in the synagogue, at weddings and on buses.

Monica and James are outwardly religious, but no longer believe in their faith.

“Questioning God was a very difficult process for me,” said James, who began having doubts as a young man reading Skeptic magazine and “The God Delusion” by Richard Dawkins. “Religion has a strong hold on your thoughts and the way you think.”

The couple chooses to remain part of the insular community because “we don’t want to lose our family,” Monica said. “We would be shunned forever.”

But they are willing to risk all to share their story.

“We want to inspire other Hasidic couples who also have doubts about God and their marriage,” said James. “We hope to lead by example. By speaking out and breaking the taboo, we hope other Hasidic couples will do the same and feel less alone.”