Stumped

On Thursday I was out with a very, very good friend and a number of her other friends. My friend’s friends are mostly gay men, hurrah, and a good time was had by all - at one point I was being force-fed long island iced teas – and not from a glass :-)

International called just as we were leaving the bar and asked to join me, so we met, had more drinks ended up back at mine. Ignoring our earlier promise to go straight to bed we, well, went straight to bed. There’s nothing quite like a quick, passionate, hardcore shag to round off a night on the tiles. Unfortunately the occasion of him calling was that he has been made redundant, and was pretty drunk himself when we met up. But he still gave a good account of himself in the wee small hours.

Today I saw International again – using the elderly aunt ruse that we could not employ before – and what can I say? The sex between us just keeps getting better and he was extremely complimentary. We were overcome with passion so I’m pretty sure anyone who happened to glance into my windows would have seen, oh my, a whole lotta lurvin’. But what’s done is done. And, gentle reader, in more than one way I’ve been done.

You see, International complained incidentally of all the ‘shit’ going on in his life. Enquiring tremulously whether I fell under the heading of ‘shit’ I was somewhat startled to find that, in not so many words, I do. So in no time our conversation became a Talk and, well, the edited highlights are:

International isn’t going to leave Ouch. He and I are not boyfriends; I am pretty much just someone he fucks. International doesn’t want me to see other people of course, but I shouldn’t harbour any ambition that he and I will live together and be happy ever after. He says it’s OK for him to have all the power in our relationship because he’s being faithful to me. Though he also does love me, and if he ever does leave Ouch I am definitely in the running…

For my part I explained I like sex, enjoy having it frequently, and in getting screwed – as in anything – I make my own choices.

We haven’t broken up, or at least not formally. But in many... well, I don’t know what this is. There was I thinking he was Mr Right, who he clearly isn’t.

I’m too shocked. I know for sure I absolutely have carte blanche to keep shagging around and maybe go back to dating too. Or at least that’s what my slightly hot head tells me. What my heart will report remains to be seen.

Stay tuned for the next exciting instalment… but in the mean time, here’s a button to enjoy.