And so I pop back up after an extended absence. Life has been busy, new job (sadly much more corporate and with absolutely no use for my encyclopaedic knowledge of sex toys and lubricants), new home, and a new relationship.

Obviously it’s the relationship that brings me here – doesn’t it always? I am very pleased with my latest acquisition: widely agreed as quite ridiculously good looking, geekily intelligent, eloquent, and utterly filthy in (and out of) the bedroom. I think you’ll agree: Score.

I am indeed one lucky girl, and he one lucky guy of course as I am all of those things and more, but there’s one tiny little fly in the ointment. A baby fly, basically a flea, but it’s there and it’s detracting from the perfection that is otherwise tantalisingly close. This man is almost, but not quite, entirely mine.

Yep, another of those have-your-cake-and-eat-it bastards. It’s nowhere near as bad as those that I have encountered in the past; in six months I think he’s fooled around with others twice, maybe 3 times. He keeps it predominately to a monthly kink event, and after a lot of discussion and laying of cards on the table there is a rule in place that states nobody overnight. As he is very switchy and I am not, I could comprehend his need to get a subby fix, though I have put a lot of effort in to exploring my dominant side (dormant since 1999!). Imagine my surprise when he came to me one day after one such promiscuous sojourn feeling fragile because he’d had a seriously intense scene topping a (now rather broken) girl. My heart was winded.

As much as I wanted to comfort him, I had not mentally prepared myself for him sharing such dynamics with others. Aren’t I his bitch? Aren’t my squeals of pain satisfying enough? Possibly not the healthiest way of thinking about it, but I’m emotional and often self-loathing, what would you expect? After a week of fighting my ‘flight’ response we sat down and I was able to articulate my response to what had happened. He understood, which is a start, but other than that what is there to do? With his personality type, if I try and forbid him from doing something, he will just want to do it more. I can only resort to one thing: let him see how hurt I am.

It’s quite shocking in it’s open, honest, cruelty. I am fully aware that he cares quite a lot for me, and as much as my automatic reaction is to shield him from the pain he causes, in the long term it will benefit neither of us. I’ve shielded many a lover from similar in the past and it has never worked out well for me in the short term (bottling up hurts) or them in the long term (“Why are you suddenly not happy? You were happy before, right? You said you were fine with this…”).

The image of what he did with that other girl, the casual comment from a friend of his about seeing his cock get sucked in the club, an invite to the same club and the complicated decline that results in, these things all cause little stabs of pain, but please let me make this clear: these are weighed against a really rather pleasing connection full of fantastic sex, interesting conversations and wonderful silences.

Is this the price I have to pay? And is it a reasonable price?