It’s Complicated

We now all consider this situation extremely funny. After our wonderful date last night, my gentleman friend (I may change his name later on, but I have to call him something!) and I went and picked up his wife from Sugar Daddy’s condo. I attempted to get out of the front seat so she could sit up front with her hubby, but was told that we are on a date, and I should remain beside him.

What a woman!

My gentleman friend got out of the car to open her door for her, and we introduced ourselves. She was a little drunk, which she declared without shame, and we immediately started a rowdy, three-way conversation with tons of laughing and teasing and inappropriateness.

When they dropped me off at home, he got out of the car and gave me a long, slow kiss, our arms all wrapped around each other.

“See you later, Sweetheart,” he said, and my heart became a puddle.

When I got inside, I texted him, telling him how much I enjoyed meeting his wife. He said she really liked me too. We are hoping to have a Cards Against Humanity Night sometime soon, the three of us.

This is a chick I could definitely hang with.

Um, also. I started having sex with Sugar Daddy again. Gentleman friend and wife both know, and of course, that’s part of the reason why all four of us find this situation highly entertaining. She enjoys doing him, but knows not to really trust him (she has a boyfriend), so I feel good about it.  And I feel the same. My re-involvement with him is about my body, not my heart. He has zero control over me, and this is not a relationship–it is convenient, screaming, sex.

A friend mentioned the other day that it sounds like I have man clutter–and she may be right. I don’t adjust my schedule for Sugar Daddy, and I blow him off more often than I blow him. Hubby time, family time, Gentleman friend time, and my own personal interests all come first. But on a occasion I do enjoy stopping by his conveniently located condo on the way home from work and getting banged for an hour.

Don’t judge me. Or do. Whatever.

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