I want to start this update with a thank you to everybody who wrote in to me to talk about their opinions on my boyfriend, and his behavior towards me lately after I mentioned it in my last post.
A lot of you were on the same page as each other, and a couple of you even had some words of advice/caution for me.
Many people said similar things, but one note in particular had a real impact on my thinking for the past week or so. I won’t say who it was, because they didn’t give me permission to mention them, but here is the gist of what they said:
First of all, be careful. I am playing with fire here. There are a couple of reasons why my boyfriend acted the way he did towards me, and they all mean I need to be careful, and I should talk through things with him more.
1- He may be scared. Scared of what this has all turned into, and whether it may have gone too far for him. He might be scared that he can’t tell me he is uncomfortable with things because he he thinks that I might leave him if he were to speak up.
2- He may be getting angry at me. Angry that this whole thing started out as his fantasy, and of late, he hasn’t gotten much of the attention, because it’s all been directed to finding/going out with/fucking Alex. If I withhold details, it could make for more resentment, which would make this sort of lifestyle significantly less hot for both of us.
3- He may actually LIKE the idea of me holding back some of the details. Maybe he does think the not knowing is hotter than actually knowing. Maybe his imagination of what I am capable of doing is hotter than me telling him what I actually plan to do.
4- Maybe it was a power thing. Maybe - while I was just joking around with him - he saw it as me taking more control in our relationship, and his reaction was just something he said because he was surprised. That could be “good surprised”, or “bad surprised”, but I wouldn’t know until I talked it through with him.
So… I thought about it a couple of days. I thought, and thought… And went around with “what ifs” a while. These days, my boyfriend acted pretty normal toward me. He wasn’t moping,or crying, but he wasn’t jubilant and excited either. He was actually pretty neutral. (Side note here - for all the guys that say that women are impossible to read, let me just say that trying to tell if you have crossed a line or not with your boyfriend when you sleep around and tell friends about it- is 10 times harder than reading any lady’s body language or subtle clues to see how she’s feeling). I decided that before I talked to my boyfriend directly about this, I wanted to get another opinion…
On my lunch break, I called Shauna. “Hello, Shauna? Can you meet me for a drink? I have some things I need advice about”. She couldn’t that day, she said that she had already made plans, but the next day she was in. That night I was confused, and worried, and I’m sure I was over-thinking things. It didn’t help that Alex texted me that night too. He just said “hey, are you busy tonight?” I didn’t answer. I felt like I owed it to my relationship to get some answers before I did anything more with Alex. I was sure he will get by without me somehow…
So Shauna and I met the next day for happy hour. I did tell my boyfriend before hand that I was meeting her. I tried to gauge his reaction… “Ok, cool.” That’s it? Yup. Not much there. Angry? Casual? Excited? I couldn’t honestly tell. Shauna and I sat down, and I she immediately asked me about Alex… How did it go? Did I sleep with him? Did I like it? What did my boyfriend say about it? I answered everything honestly. I wanted her advice, so I told her the truth. Until that last question about how my bf reacted.
I told her what I said, and what how he reacted… And how he didn’t push for details, even though I could tell it was killing him. The question was why was it killing him? Shauna thought about it for a while, and asked me what I thought. I figured that I would just give her my list of 4 major possibilities listed above. But then… I sorta made a little mistake… I said “Well, most people seem to think that…” That’s as far as I got before she interrupted me. “Wait, ‘most people?’ what do you mean? Who else knows about you two?” I was stuck. I didn’t really have a reasonable story to cover the ‘most people’ slip up. She asked again, “like more than 3 or 4?” I could feel myself blushing a little bit. “Yeah, I guess you could say that” I managed to say, but that only confused her more. “Ten? Twenty? Fifty? ‘Most’ of how many?” I felt like the longer I let it go, the harder it would be to come clean later. “Ok, this is going to sound weird, but I sorta have a blog.” “A blog? About this? Get the fuck out?!” All o could do was smile sheepishly and feel my cheeks turn red again. She pulled out her phone immediately. “What’s the address?” After a couple minutes of trying to avoid doing so, and realizing that she wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer, I told her. Funny thing is… She has her own Tumblr. And I gained another follower, right there as I was sitting at a bar with her. So… Hey Shauna… Welcome to the blog side of things too…
It’s a strange feeling knowing that somebody I actually know is going to be reading this. I’m not sure how I feel about that yet… But I digress…
So, then I told her… About my/all of your theories as to why my boyfriend acted the way he did towards me. At the end of it all, we made a couple decisions together:
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, or do anything that would make him think I was leaving him. I had to prepare myself for the very real possibility that #1 above may have been true. If it was, I told myself that I had to stop. With everything. The other guys, the dating, the blog… Everything. If he was legitimately unhappy or scared about this, I was done. I was ready for the end of everything, and just going back to being me and my bf.
I needed to make sure the he knew I was willing to tell him those details I withheld before, I wasn’t actually lying to him by omission, and I had to make sure that he knew I was just trying to be playful with him, not a bitch. I had to make it clear to him that I don’t want to drive him away by excluding him.
I had to prepare myself for the alternative too… What if he liked it? What would that mean? Should I withhold more details from him? Should I tease him with the details over a longer period of time, just to watch him squirm? What if he actually LIKED it when I was a little bit bitchy to him?
Shauna and I finished up with our drinks, and paid. I thanked her for listening, and she thanked me for letting her in on the blog. I drove home. On my way, I called my bf, and asked him if he could come over, because I wanted to talk to him about something. He agreed, but said that he had to drop off something at the post office before it closed, and he would head over after that. (Again… hard to read… Blowing me off? Completely innocent?)
Before he got there, I decided that I was going to make this night about him. If it was true that he was feeling neglected recently, I was going to make sure he didn’t leave feeling that same way. I went upstairs, and changed out of my work clothes, and into something more casual, but still a little flirty. I just wore a pair of black and purple running shorts, and a white tank top. I actually changed my bra too - to a black lacy one - and made sure it was visible on my shoulder, because I know that drives him crazy. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and went downstairs to start cooking.
I honestly had no idea what to make. I didn’t have a plan until I looked through my fridge. Had I known that morning that I was going to be making a spontaneous “impress the boyfriend” meal, I probably would have gone and got some steak or something. I had none of that…. Soooo… I had to improvise. Ground beef? Cheese? Sour cream? Tortillas? Who doesn’t love some romantic tacos? Ehhh… It wasn’t going to be the best, but it would do.
I was about 10 min away from being done cooking when he got to my place. He came in, and asked what I was making. We’re tacos alright? “Yeah, sure”. (Again… Reading his thoughts about all this was either a complete exercise in futility, or me way over-analyzing things)
I got him a beer, and told him to relax on the couch until dinner was done cooking. He did, and came over to the kitchen when I called him. We each made a couple of super-delicious tacos, and sat down to eat. I came right out and said it. “I want to talk to you about a few things, and I need you to be completely honest with me, ok?” He agreed. “Are you upset at me? About anything?” He said no, and looked genuinely confused as to why I would ask. I supposed that was a good start…
I kept going… “What about that other night, when you clammed up when I told you that asking about Alex was too personal?” He answered that he just assumed I didn’t want to talk about it. I asked him, if that were actually the case - how would he feel about that answer? He said it drove him crazy (I could tell) but he wasn’t mad. I asked why. “Because, I want you to do whatever you want to do with him”
“But I thought you got turned on by hearing about what I do with other guys”. He assured me that he did, but that he is equally turned on by me knowing I have the power to do whatever I want, with whoever I want, and not feel like I need to be answerable to anybody for it, including him. He would love to hear about it, but that was 100% my decision of and when I wanted to tell him, and that he was completely fine with that. Hmmm. Well that was interesting. At this point, I felt pretty confident that we weren’t going down the path of option #1.
“So, what if I told you that it was ridiculously hot, and I’m absolutely going to fuck him again?” He blushed, and looked down into his half eaten tacos. Pretty sure we can throw out option #2 as well. He didn’t look up at me for a few seconds… I could see his face was red. He liked it. We are definitely looking at a #3 or #4 scenario here… I decided to push it further. Just to see what his reaction would be.
“And…” I paused for a second. “he has a really big dick”. He groaned, loudly. Bingo. That was all I needed. I stood up, and walked over to him, and sat on his lap, straddling him, with my arms around his shoulders. He still wasn’t looking me in the eye, but I could see his cheeks were flush, and I could feel his cock was hard in his pants. “Look at me” he glanced up at me for a second, but then away. “No, LOOK at me” I said again, and started to slowly grind my hips into his crotch. He looked up again, and this time, held eye contact with me. I just stared into his eyes. He looked back at me. My hips worked the front of his pants. “I’m gonna fuck his big cock again… Whenever I want to… And if you are good, I’ll tell you about it, ok?” He but his lip, and his eyes closed, he nodded, and I swear he must have been purple he was blushing so hard.
I climbed off of him. And pulled him by the hand towards the stairs. Half of the tacos were still uneaten, but what the hell… They were just tacos… On the way upstairs, I saw my phone on my coffee table. I stopped, turned around, went back, and grabbed it. “I want to show you something” said, and opened up my text message screen as I came back and led him upstairs. I laid him on my bed, and showed him the text from Alex from a few days before. If he would have paid closer attention, he would have seen the date, but he just saw the text, and the name on top, and that was enough. “What do you think? Should I go over there tonight?” I asked him, snatching my phone back from him, and putting it on my dresser. He didn’t say anything, just stared back at me… So I teased him.
I pulled my tank top over my head and tossed it aside. “Should I ask him to bring his motorcycle over here and fuck me here tonight?” He groaned again. I pulled off my shorts, and crawled up onto the bed, straddling him again, in only my underwear, and pushed him back onto my pillow. His eyes were closed. His mouth was closed, and he was breathing rapidly through his nose. “It’s all my decision, isn’t it?” He nodded again, quickly, without opening his eyes. Mmmm. What a rush. Power. Adrenaline. Wetness. I pulled his hands to my hips, and held them there as I started to grind on him again. “Look at me”
He looked up at me, and I stopped moving my hips on him. I wanted him to focus on what I was saying, not what I was doing. “Well, my decision is to fuck you tonight. A lot”. I leaned down, and kissed him. He kissed back.
The sex was good. Honestly, not the best- but pretty good. I think I had him too worked up, because he didn’t last very long the first time. But the second time was better, and so was the third. I wanted him to know that I wanted it to be about him that night. I wanted to make sure he knew that even if I made all the decisions with regard to our sex lives, he was still very much a part of it. And in pillow talk between fucking, I made sure to tell him that if he is ever, ever, uncomfortable about anything, then the only way I will be mad at him is if he doesn’t speak up. (I still have a little soft spot… So sue me)
The next day, at work, he texted me. “You were amazing last night”. It made me smile. (Yeah, we are looking at #3 or 4 for sure by now…) At the same time, I knew that he didn’t want me to answer with something stupid like, “you were too babe, love you, xoxo”. So I just wrote back, “I know”. He said “It is so hot to picture my girlfriend as a hot little nympho”. And then, right there, at work, I got an idea. I texted him back, “thanks. You just gave me a great idea for A Halloween costume this weekend”
You guys remember Karissa? Remember how I said she has a good house for parties? Well, Halloween was no exception. She told me the week before that she and her roommates were planning on hosting again this year, and I said that of course I was coming, and would bring my bf too. She was fine with that, of course. So… I was going, I just had to figure out the costume thing.
Id like to take a minute here for a minute to say another thank you to all of you guys who suggested costume ideas for me and my boyfriend. There were a lot of interesting ideas. Cop and prisoner, angel and devil, soccer player and referee… and about 10 other combinations that I’m sure I’m forgetting. So thank you all. My favorite was actually a biker chick. I was almost sure I was going to go as a biker chick, and I had plans to buy myself a fake leather jacket, chaps, skull t-shirt, gloves, and sunglasses… But by the time I had thought it out, it was Friday night, and I hadn’t bought anything yet, so when my be said “nympho” I just thought… “Yeah, I could pull that off”, and changed my mind right there.
He wanted to know what my idea was, but I didn’t answer him right away. Mostly because I didn’t know exactly how I was going to accomplish it yet. How do you dress like a nympho? Super slutty everything? Hang on every guy I see? While that may be fun, I didn’t want to do anything overt like that. I needed to figure out a way to make it more subtle. How do you make a nympho more subtle? I thought about it for a while, and when I got home from work, I opened my closet, and started pulling out old Halloween attire to see what I could put together.
I was having a hard time. I don’t have anything overtly slutty in my wardrobe. I know that may come as a shock to some of you, but I do have somewhat of a reputation to uphold. I was a bit upset… I actually came really close to saying screw it, and going to Hot Topic or something to fake a biker chick outfit at the last minute, when I thought of a way to pull it off. A nympho? How about just a nymph? That could be easy… It was subtle-ish. I had an old hippie Halloween costume that I wore about 4 or 5 years ago for Halloween, and there was a flower belt, and some flower leggings with that. I figured I could just use those. I also had a pink flower-y looking waist belt, and a green dress.
A forrest nymph… Why not? I decided I was going for it. I just needed some kind of wings, and maybe a wand or something. I will readily admit, that it wasn’t my best costume of all time, but it worked. I called my boyfriend, and told him what he was going to be for Halloween… I told him to dress like a nerd when he came to pick me up. (A nerd Courtney? Really? Why?)
On Halloween, late afternoon, my boyfriend showed up at my place in his nerdy costume. He hiked his pants up really high, had some suspenders, wore knee high striped socks, and got some fake glasses, and a pocket protector too. Again… Not our best costume work ever, but we were improvising here…
He asked me what I was dressed as when he saw me… “Hippie? Fairy?” “Nope… I’m a nymph…o. Get it?” He looked at me funny… “Then why didn’t you want me to be a nerd?” “Because, if I’m a nympho, then somebody needs to be my little virgin, right?” He laughed. Well… I thought it was clever anyway. And we didn’t have time to change. This was what we were doing.
I told him he had to drive to Karissa’s house. He asked me if we wanted to get a cab instead. “No, I want you to drive”. He didn’t argue, and we got in his car, and he started towards Karissa’s house. He did, however, ask my why I wanted him to drive. “Because you aren’t drinking tonight”. He was confused. “Why? Court, it’s Halloween…” I just looked at him, and said “Tonight, you are a virgin… And so are your drinks. You can either use the excuse that you are driving, or just don’t tell anyone that you are only drinking water. It’s up to you” Then I thought a little more, and added, “Oh, and also… Because I said so, that’s why.”
Wow… As soon as I said that, I immediately wondered where it came from. Did I really just do that to him? He didn’t argue. I liked it. I’m pretty sure he did too. He wants me to make the decisions… So I did. No drinking for him.
The party was cool. It wasn’t crazy or anything. When my friends asked what my costume was. I told them… “I’m a nympho… Oops! I mean nymph! And [bf] is my little nerdy virgin!” Mostly, everybody just thought I was silly. Which I was. I will readily admit that our costumes (and the explanations of them) were a bit of a stretch.
I stuck to my guns though, about making my boyfriend stay sober. I think I did it, just to see if he would. He did. He didn’t tell people he wasn’t drinking. Only I knew. I made him bring me his drinks all night long to taste test. He drank gin and tonics (hold the gin) all night long.
I did not. I had more than enough for both of us. I got pretty drunk.
At the end of the night he took me home. He was sober (which was my plan all along really - a DD for the ride home) and drove us right to my place. We crawled into bed, and he was really horny. He wanted sex, but I was drunk, and loving the power thing, so I kept it going… I told him I wanted him to eat me first. He crawled under the covers, and gave me oral… For a while. I came. Twice. Mmmmm, it was good. I don’t know if it was the booze, his eagerness, my horniness, the power dynamic, or what. Probably all of the above. I liked it.
He wanted more after that, but I wouldn’t let him. “Not tonight baby… Wouldn’t want to take your virginity…”
I rolled over, and passed out.
I woke up this morning, and all I’ve been thinking about all day - is what decision I’m going to make next.
My girlfriend and I are at a friend’s apartments for a party.
The laughter and loud conversation are interrupted by the delicate sound of a pie fork being tapped lightly against a wine glass. Our friend strides into our midst and announces that she has a surprise for us all.
A magician.
We exchange a look. Were this anyone else’s party such news would have had us heading discreetly toward the door but this friend is wealthy and brilliant, with exquisite taste, so our curiosity is piqued.
She makes a theatrical gesture toward the parlor door, where a handsome, dark-eyed man looms in a well-cut gray suit. He smiles kindly, angling his head briefly to acknowledge the smattering of polite applause, and we as a group all gather closer.
He wanders among us, his hands warm in our own, as coins turn into cards then into feathers and wrist watches somehow switch wrists before vanishing completely.
At one point in his performance he asks for a volunteer. There are murmurs and whispers for an impossible moment, then my girlfriend gives my hand a squeeze and steps forward.
So brave, he says, taking her hand with a flourish and bowing slightly, and so lovely. She blushes, to cheers and whistles.
Hands in front of you, palms up, he says and she compiles. And so obedient, he says, gestures toward her and motioning for a round of applause. She laughs and flushes crimson again.
From the inside of his jacket he withdraws a length of rope and a bracelet-size silver ring. He places the ring flat on her outstretched palm of her left hand, then loops the rope through it and lightly around her wrist, draping the remainder up her arm, over her shoulders, then down around her waist.
He steadies himself, takes a deep breath, then whips the rope away. A gasp goes around the room: The silver bracelet now dangles from her opposite wrist.
Applause and open mouths. He smiles broadly, then raises his eyebrows and holds up a finger. He takes my girlfriend’s left hand and places it over the bracelet on her right hand, then withdraws another, identical ring from within his jacket, and places it onto the back of her hand. He loops the rope through the ring, then lays over her hands three times, back and forth and back again. He steadies himself and, with surprising vigor, he whips the rope away again.
More gasps, louder this time: The bracelet is around her left wrist but both bracelets are now looped, one through the other.
My girlfriend struggles to separate her hands but the rings are too narrow to slip off. Help, she wails comedically to robust laughter.
He holds up a finger again. Oh what now, she moans, to more laughter. From inside his jacket he withdraws another ring, larger this time, and he places it, with great ceremony, on top of her head.
I’m never coming to one of your parties again, my girlfriend says loudly and the hostess’s laughter is loudest of all.
Carefully he threads the rope through the ring, then winds it around the back of my girlfriend’s head, over her shoulder, and down between her manacled hands. He takes a moment to stretch his fingers, then, gripping the rope tightly, he sets his feet, breathes in and out deeply, and pulls.
Gasps again: The rings on her wrists clatter to the floor and the one on top of her head now rests snugly around her neck.
The applause is loud and sustained. My girlfriend looks stunned, her hands going instinctively to the collar around her throat. We surround her and run our fingers along its curved shape but the chrome is unbroken and unyielding.
The magician takes a deep bow and blows a kiss with both hands to the hostess, who leads us all in fervent applause.
Excuse me, my girlfriend says at an exaggerated volume. A little help please?
More laughter, then the music fades back in.
I’m in the kitchen, refilling our drinks, watching her recount the story over and again animatedly, the collar shining brightly against her skin, when the magician reappears, hat on his head, overcoat draped over his arm, case in his hand.
Thank you again everyone, he says, giving a wide wave and turning to leave. My girlfriend heads after him, catching him by the arm in the narrow hallway entrance.
So seriously, she says to him. How do I get this thing off?
He smiles broadly. I’m so sorry, he says. It doesn’t come off.
She laughs then tugs on it helplessly. Seriously though, she says. I can’t just walk around with this thing on for the rest of my life.
I’ll make you a deal, he says. Have a drink with me and I’ll see what I can do.
Deal, she says, taking his hand and turning back toward the party. What’ll you have?
No no, he says. Not here, not now. Next week. You pick the place; I’ll buy the drinks.
She laughs again, her finger hooked around the metal loop as she shakes her head slowly. Fine, she says finally, looking up at him
He extends his hand and out of thin air a business card appears between his fingers. My number, he says.
You know I have a boyfriend, right? she says, tilting her head, her smile side.
I know, he says. But he can’t come.
For the rest of the party I watch her from across the room. She glows and beams and poses with people for photos.
Better keep an eye on that, someone says to me as I empty and refill my glass, touching up the smile fixed on my lips.
That night I lie awake, staring at the silver glinting in the streetlight as she sleeps beside me.
I hope you’re not jealous, she says. It’s Tuesday afternoon of the following week and she’s getting ready to meet him. It’s just a drink or two, which I think you have to admit he earned with that show.
She kisses me, then again, opening her mouth to me and for a moment all I think about is crawling into bed with her. But when I put my hands on her face to pull her closer I feel the smooth steel warmed by her skin.
She disappears into the bedroom to change. I hear the sound of leather sliding and I feel the bottom of my stomach drop out. She’s going to wear those pants, the ones she knows I like, the ones she bought herself for my birthday, that she wears whenever she wants to get everything she wants.
Another moment more and out she walks. Sure enough, she’s wearing them, her special occasion pants, pairing them with a clingy sweater and a pair of whisper-thin stiletto heels. She wants to look good for him. And she does.
Another kiss, just a peck this time, brief but long enough for me to catch a whiff of a perfume I don’t recognize.
Have a relaxing evening, she says, breezy but measured, as if she’s eager to leave but doesn’t want to show it. And don’t forget, as soon as I get this collar off I’m all yours again.
It’s midnight when I finally give up waiting and turn off the light.
…just give her time…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.