One for him, one for her, and one for me
Saturday, May. 30, 2020 - 7:15 pm.

I finally came out to my boss today. She and Andrew have a long history of working together, years before I entered the picture and up until he and I moved to the UK. Without saying that we're quite friends (the boss/employee divide is always there), there's a lot of trust and appreciation from her to us and viceversa, not to mention that we were able to stay in this city because she scrambled to get me a contract with the university to work with her. She's also my "sponsor researcher" for the proposals (on LGBTI issues) I'm presenting to get funding. So it was only fair to tell her.

We invited her for coffee at our place, just to catch up. I talk to her almost daily and meet her on zoom a few days per week, but it's all for work. And she leans on Andrew and me for catharsis and support regarding certain topics, so every chance we have to meet outside work is welcome. Our "coffee" kept us in conversation for three hours. It was great.

My coming out to her was quick, a passing reference. We were talking about our own research topics and at some point I looked at her and said, "because, you know, I'm bisexual", and I noticed her eyes opening wide, but I carried on with the main idea, and we moved on. I would have liked to leave room to address questions she might have had, but I also don't make a big deal about it. I don't want to beat myself over this. And again, our get-together was great. Maybe we'll get a chance to talk about this again in the future.

This week...whew. It didn't start very well because I slept horribly two nights in a row, Sunday and Monday, Andrew, as usual, was amazing taking care of me. Nevertheless, since then I've had a slight headache that moves around my forehead and eyes and that remains to this very moment.

Now. The week overall was actually...pretty steamy. I've talked everyday to G., whom I shall now call Helen because that's also her name. And it sounds like the name of a woman who would pull my hair.

Our conversations have been escalating. Sure, we were flirting, and talking about assorted topics, until one night she offered to send me a photo of her in lingerie. I was in bed at the time, with Andrew by my side. We do that most nights, he and I, we catch up on our phones next to each other before going to sleep. I know it's not the best for our sleep cycles due to the phone light, but for the record, I do try to put away my phone some time before going to sleep, and I read a book instead. But I digress.

When she offered the photo, I almost said no. I also tried to delay my saying no, mostly because I didn't want her to feel rejected. Then I gave in, not so much out of curiosity (I was terrified) but because I thought "how bad can it be?". Oh, boy. I kept my cool on the outside, but inside I was all flustered and speechless. I didn't say much to her. Then she said she trusted me with this and it hit me. I'd never received a picture like this one before, and it was indeed a massive display of trust. Lust turned to tenderness. For a minute.

When I said goodbye to her, I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom. I screamed silently, if that makes sense, and let out all the reactions I couldn't express due to having Andrew next to me when I was talking to her. "This has gone way out of hand", I thought. This has gone too far. This is something else.

I thanked her again the next morning, and explained that my lack of reaction was me being restrained. I told her I could not reciprocate due to my situation (i.e. being married). I told her I don't want to play with her...I mean, I do want to play with her, but not if it hurts her or leaves her in an unfair position. She said the same thing to me, and she understood I'm with someone and would never hold that against me. We both knew it was getting complicated, but I told her that was on me, as I'm the one who's not single. So we set some boundaries.

Unfortunately, though not so much, talking about boundaries led us to talk -among other things- about bondage. I *did* know what I was doing when I said I can't do for her what she does for me "because my hands are tied". That grew like a snowball and so we kind of... had... sex? Last night? Text-sex? Sexting? I knew I had to leave the conversation when she was about to go down on me. This was the second night in a row that I told her I had to leave her, but the me that remained in her head was willing to do all she wanted. So I told her something to make her gasp audibly (in real life) and went to bed.

That conversation, and the fact that I already needed my, say, Andrew fix, resulted in him and me having rough sex last night. I had an orgasm for him, one for Helen, and one for me (that's always the first one, because I now acknowledge I have a sexual trauma and I've made self-care in bed a priority). Yes, three times. Kudos to Andrew who's made me enjoy sex so much.

At some point when we both were in bed, I brought up us signing up on OnlyFans to follow porn performers or something. I want to support sex workers, and the free porn platform I use fails to take down videos of events that shouldn't even happen. Andrew replied that he wasn't much into the idea of following a specific performer but I was free to explore all I wanted. I was relieved that he doesn't feel threatened by that (I was hoping he wouldn't, being the decent person that he is), and I told him that whatever I explored would not change my feelings for him.

I brought this up because of course I'm concerned about him, regarding my relationship ("friendship with digital benefits"?) with Helen. The boundaries I had in mind are not for her, they are for me. There are things I don't say to her, and pictures I don't send to her because I imagine how Andrew would feel if he saw them. I'm now avoiding talking to her late at night when I'm in bed next to him. When I'm with him, I'm mindfully with him. He's my priority, the love of my life. I don't think I'm cheating, but also I feel like I'm cheating.

Yet I don't feel guilty. My liking her does not take away my loving him. I don't think this is easy to understand for most people, though, and I'm not sure Andrew would get it, emotionally (even if rationally it's quite simple). Of course, I wouldn't blame him if he doesn't "get it". We're not raised to think that way about love and sex. I don't want to keep my relationship with Helen hidden from him, but then I think, what if knowing hurts him more than not knowing? I don't mean to tell him every detail, and I know that details he wouldn't get care for, but just so I wouldn't do this behind his back.

Perhaps I can tell him some day. When he said I could explore all I wanted I was relieved, but that's not a blank check. The way things are going, she and I may meet one day, and then I'd need to ask for his permission to maybe get railed by her. It sounds awful, "asking my husband for permission", but if he doesn't consent to me getting involved with a woman, I couldn't go through with it. The one thing I have going on my favor in this regard is that my exploring has always worked out for his benefit. He makes me horny but the exploring makes me crafty.

Well, I'm exhausted now. Take care yourself.

(As this is my Happy Place, I try to stay way from discussing real-world events, but I acknowledge that Black Lives Matter and I donated to one of the solidarity funds circulating these days. Burn everything, folks!)

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