I want you to understand me.

When Lina told me she’d been sleeping with Troy behind my back I ran from the room and burst into tears.

She felt awful and ran after me. “I can’t believe this!” I cried. “He promised me he’d never talk to you again! You swore you hated him!”

Her excuse was she didn’t know I’d feel this way and she said immediately that it was over. She texted him and said, “I can’t do this to Hy, anymore. It’s over.” His simple response was, “Ok.”

She sat there with her arms around me stuttering apologies, “I had no idea you felt this way! Oh my God, I’d never have done this if I’d known!” To which I lifted my tear-streaked face to hers, looked her in the eyes and said, “Yes you fucking did. I’ve told you for months to leave him alone, to not fuck him. How much else could I have done to convince you I WAS NOT COOL WITH YOU TWO FUCKING??”

She stammered some more, back-pedaled, “You said you hated him.”

“I do.”

“So, what’s the big deal??”

The big deal was that several weeks earlier Troy and I had met for brunch. It was an hour or so after my divorce became final. He’d insisted on taking me out for a bloody mary. At that point, we had had yet another falling out but we’d tentatively patched things up. He’d been sending me cock pics off and on of men he’d found online. Our “friendship” was brand new all over again. I was nervous about meeting him, but he insisted, sounded warm and caring, and I definitely needed it that morning.

So, we met at one of my favorite brunch spots. He told me he was sorry for everything again and said that he really had cared for me over the past 11 months or so. Tears sprung to my eyes. I’d never felt like he’d cared about me so hearing the words now were sweet. We talked about becoming friends again, but I wanted it on one condition: he couldn’t have any contact with Lina.

He looked surprised since he hadn’t had any with her for weeks as it was. But she’d fucked up a lot in my sex life and if I wanted to move forward with a friendship with him, she couldn’t be involved with him in any way (there was a previous incident wherein I “caught” her arranging a fuck with him, the 3some where I was completely ignored and she let it happen, and various other fuck ups with other lovers and men I’d introduced her to).

He quickly and earnestly agreed “I don’t want her in my life. I want you in my life.”

“Good, because I’m not going to tell her we’re talking again. I can’t. She’ll fuck it up.”

“Ok, sounds good to me.”

“She’s a twat, Troy. Trust me on this. A 24 yo twat with no boundaries. It’ll be better this way.”

He laughed at my choice of words and we chatted the morning away. From then on we texted more. He got me a birthday present. We contemplated a sex club. We had an understanding that he couldn’t fuck me due to his relationship status (he was exclusive with someone), but he could still be sexual with me.

Then, he and his girl broke up. Hours later he told me he missed my blowjobs (I was the only woman ever to get him off every time, and just about the only one who could ever get him off period) and would I give him one? Then, he told me he’d lucked out with an old friend/lover and they had a Monday night thing going. He was excited because it helped him forget his ex-girlfriend. I wondered who it could be since I was his only ex that talked to him (everyone else never wanted to talk to him again). He told me he couldn’t tell me because she had a boyfriend and he wanted to respect her privacy. I told him that was stupid, but, whatever. He could keep his secrets.

I mentioned it to Lina. She laughed and thought it was weird, too.

Then, one day, the texts stopped. For about two weeks. I was at once relieved to not hear anymore sordid details about how great the sex was with his ex and also about his hunt for new pussy.

I mentioned it to Lina. She laughed and called him some filthy name.

Turns out, Lina was his regular Monday night hook up; the “ex-lover/friend”. I’d told her about herself. And he’d stopped texting me the night they hooked up for the first time.

When I found out she’d fucked him, the first thing I asked was, “Did you tell him you have herpes??”

“Yeah,” she responded, “I guess he didn’t care.”

I was shocked, floored, really. That guy was a fucking hypochondriac. A couple of days later she admitted that that was a lie. She’d never told him. She hated him so much, she claimed, she’d kinda hoped he’d get it. He was just a great lay and had a big dick and she didn’t care. I immediately told her she had to tell him. He’s promiscuous! He has a right to know and to protect his other partners!

She refused for days and days.

At this point, Troy thinks I’ve put an embargo on his and Lina’s trysts when really it was her idea all along. When she finally told him she had herpes she told him as if she’d JUST found out that day. He later accused me of putting her up to making it up just to fuck with him. I told him to fuck off.

She also refused to tell him to never contact her again or to delete him out of her phone. It was my belief that part of why she didn’t want him to know she’d deliberately lied to him was because she liked coming out of this thing smelling like roses. As far as Troy was concerned, I was the crazy one, and Lina had done nothing wrong to him except try to be a good friend to me.

The thing is, she never intended to listen to me when it came to him. She was a “slore” (her word, not mine). Sex with him was intense and life-changing for me. It was a lot like my first time in so many ways. We did threesomes and group sex together, we used toys, and he made me cum and squirt like it was my job. Sure, I didn’t like the guy, but we had a bond. I had a bond. I was bonded to him.

I trusted him with my entire body and being; it was his voice or his eyes that I’d focus on while another man used my body; his touch that would make me feel safe and looked after. This wasn’t just some dude to me. He was my sexual companion and fellow explorer and when I said, “Hands off!” I meant HANDS FUCKING OFF. And she shit on it. And he shit on it. They had a shitfest on it.

In that same text conversation where he accused me of making up the herpes, he also told me he did this to deliberately hurt me because one time, way back in February or March, I had had a threesome without him and he’d never forgiven me for it. He wanted me to feel left out, just like he had. (I told you this guy was venom on legs.)

I tried to forgive Lina for all of this, but eventually I discovered she’d also lied to two other men I know and care about about her herpes and to me by telling me she’d told them. She said hateful, shitty things to me about “not being second best anymore” now that she wasn’t fucking Troy anymore and I realized I was finally done with her. I haven’t spoken to either her, or Troy, since the end of November. I don’t miss either of them and my life has improved dramatically.

I believe everything happens for a reason, but I also believe I don’t have to know the reasons when they’re happening. I’m willing to wait it out and see what happens. My year or so of sex with Troy and chaos with Lina have taught me many things about myself and other people and I feel loaded with new positive material to pass on to others.

And this is why I say, “I want you to understand me.” Because I do. I really, really do. I want you to know that though I’m promiscuous and sexually adventurous I’m also sweet, loving and trusting. I also want you to understand the reasons I’m hung up on the sex with one man who jerked me around and treated me badly. It’s not because I’m an idiot, it’s because I put faith in someone who outside of the bed never proved himself. Please, don’t think less of me. I already do. Thank god time heals.

I put up with a colossal prick because of his prick.

My relationship with Troy was a complicated one.  He was the first person I ever really didn’t like but with whom the sex was out of this world.  How could I so actively dislike someone, yet trust him enough to do debauched, trust-based sexual acts?  We fucked Jack together, we fucked Ray, we fucked my girlfriend (the one he eventually lied to me about) both with me and with Jack, and we even met a guy in a local Hilton just so he could suck him off and I could figuratively hold his hand (though, my pussy ended up holding his cock).

In the beginning he fucked me twice a week, whether my kid was in residence or not.  My little one would pass out, we’d turn on some music, and we’d go to town.  My kid never stirred or even knew he was there.  We plotted and planned to have a man join us.  He got us a joint AFF account and he was in almost constant contact with me about men we could meet.  I thought he was dramatic and vortex-like.  My alarms were going off like crazy, but I felt helpless to resist.

And then all the attention, it petered out.  He said insulting things to me; he wrote me nasty emails and yelled at me in front of my friends; talked to me about all the money he was spending on his other dates; would inundate me with graphic details of his sexual encounters with other women; call me at all hours of the night crying about his ex; and I was eventually relegated to only Tuesday nights – occasionally – and group sex; he even once screamed at me when I accidentally knocked him in the jaw as I turned around after he’d been finger fucking me.  The guy was a goddamned cruel mess.

Yet, I let him stay in my life and he continued to lean on me for relationship advice as he stumbled from woman to woman.  If the sex hadn’t been the best of my life, I would have dumped him the night he told me he could never date me longterm because I “had a kid, smoked, and was an alcoholic.”  I countered with, “Gee, at least I’m not an asshole.”  (And naturally, I’m not an alcoholic, smoked only whenever I wanted to, and, well, I don’t think having a kid is really the worst thing to have ever happened to me.  In fact, it’s the best.)  And never mind the fact that I’d never in a goddamned million years want to date him.

Long story short, Troy was a master in bed and a colossal prick out of it.  My natural reactions to his cruel intentions and manipulations were obliterated in the face of orgasms and MMFs.  I was a slave to the intrigue and the passion.  A stupid girl, not a savvy woman.

I told him I was through with him no less than 3 times.  I never do that.  Ever.  But Troy was also the only person who treated me badly then also apologized and begged for my forgiveness and friendship back.  The combination was always too much for me to resist.  His narcissism was so like my father’s that I was playing out a wish from a dark place inside of me.

With my ex friend, let’s call her Fuckface Lina, he used her against me in the cruelest way and she played right into it. One of her parting shots to me was, “Good luck not being second best anymore.” I laughed and thought dumping her was about 6 months past due. When Troy, Lina and I had a threesome, he spent way too much time with her. His excuse later was, “Hy, you know I like strange pussy. I didn’t want her to feel left out.” It was one of my worst sexual nightmares come true: being left out.

I share all of this because despite his ill-treatment of me, his specter looms large in my sexual life. When I get fucked by a man, I often think of Troy and what he’d be doing to me instead. His skill and intuition have been, as yet, completely unmatched. He always knew when to switch a position and just how to stroke me with his 8″ cock, what words to say, how to make me cum, and his stamina was unrivaled.

I’m heartbroken over this.

I have good, decent lovers in my life (I haven’t even written about The Neighbor yet, but trust me, that kid’s got skillz); men who care about me as a human being and my psyche. And still, I think of Troy. The guy who thought I was a piece of shit, told me so, and then betrayed my trust after begging for it back.

I guess sometimes good cock trumps good sense.  Now I just need to wait for the memories to get replaced and my head to get screwed back on.