sex

What’s Going On?

Mr. Agency and I were both out of town in early October. I had planned to return from Manhattan on Thursday, but Mr. Agency wasn’t entirely sure when he would get back to DC.

Mr. Agency: I’ll see you when I get back over the weekend.

Me [always the planner]: Which night?

Mr. Agency: Either Friday or Saturday, depending on work. I’ll come over the night I get back.

Me: Okay. You aren’t heading back on Friday for the fundraiser? [Once a month, there was a fundraiser at a neighborhood restaurant to benefit a cause that Mr. Agency supported.]

Mr. Agency: No. If I make it back on Friday, I have another event.

I didn’t hear from Mr. Agency until Saturday morning. He texted me that he had just gotten home and looked forward to seeing me that evening after work.

During the day, I went to the salon to donate what was left of my hair to Locks of Love. (In four days, I had lost half of my hair from chemotherapy.) I hadn’t yet embraced the sexiness of the buzz cut, but I tried to fake it. When Mr. Agency knocked on my door, I greeted him with red lace lingerie and four-inch stilettos.

He smiled and laughed since he hadn’t expected to see me like that. I fixed him a drink and then we went into the bedroom. On the surface, sex with Mr. Agency was as loving and intense as ever. We embraced each other tightly throughout the act, peppering our moans of “more,” and “yes” with “I missed you so much.” We both came, and when we were done, we discussed our weeks. On the surface, everything was normal.

But, a part of me felt like there was an elephant in the room. While we were having sex, Mr. Agency moved his hand to hold the back of my head. When he touched my very short hair, he moved his hand away rather quickly. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I couldn’t help but think:

I was the girl with the long, sexy red hair. Now, I'm the girl with the buzz cut, and soon I'll be the girl who is bald.

I didn’t cry or bring up my fears, but it seemed like Mr. Agency sensed what I needed. He held me close and told me how sexy I was. And, in the morning, when we had sex again, he told me much of the same before he headed off to the Redskins game.

Me: I’m going to turn into a pumpkin on Tuesday with the next round of chemotherapy. Come over before then if you can.

Mr. Agency: Okay.

The following day, he texted me to wish me luck with my first television interview. (If you'd like to see the interview and how I looked with the buzz cut, click here.)

On Tuesday, Mr. Agency texted me to let me know that he hoped that this round of chemotherapy was better than the first. He texted me the next day, too, but he didn’t come over or offer to bring me anything like he had in the past.

The second round hit me harder, as I was on four different medications to combat the side effects from chemotherapy. Two of the drugs caused irritability and temporary amnesia so I felt like a moody zombie. On Wednesday, I finally texted Mr. Agency the question that I had been wondering:

Will I be seeing you anytime soon?

Mr. Agency: I hope to see you one night this weekend.

"Hoped?" I thought to myself. "One night!"

I stared at my cell phone with a confused expression on my face. He seemed so blasé about his plans, and I didn’t understand why he wasn’t being as attentive as he had been previously. Of course, his work was important, but I was going through treatment for cancer!

Later that day, my confusion mounted as I went on Facebook. My news feed showed a photo of Mr. Agency and a friend…at the fundraiser…on Friday.

Did he really come home a night early and attend the event?

Why would he lie to me when he had to have known that there would be photographs taken there?

I had worried that cancer would be too much for us so early in our relationship. Had I hit the nail on the head?

To be continued…

From FWBs to Roomies?

Time to tackle a reader's question from Formspring:

Question: Can living with a "friend with benefits" work? Relationship is pre-existing, but the possibility of being roomies is new.

Answer: My initial impression is that living with a friend with benefits cannot work, but that might be too simplistic an answer.

What prompted the discussion about moving in together? Since you are asking if a relationship could work with your friend with benefits, then I wonder if you've developed feelings for your friend. Has he or she given you any indication that this could be anything more than the current arrangement?

If you care about this person and want more than a casual relationship, then living together as roommates might be difficult for you. What if he or she is sleeping with you one night and then someone else the next? What if he or she doesn't come home one night? I would hate for you to get hurt and then, to add insult to injury, have to look for another roommate or place to live.

I recommend communicating with your friend with benefits prior to signing a lease. What are your goals with this living situation and what are his or hers? Be as honest as you can in the hopes that he or she will be honest, too. If you both are only interested in being friends and saving money by living together, then maybe this can work. Nonetheless, laying some ground rules might help you make a smooth transition from friends with benefits to roommates. For example:

No sex once you start living together; or

No bringing people of the opposite sex over without giving the other person a heads up first.

(I appreciate that having rules might seem unnecessary since you’re both adults, but communication and a clear plan now will alleviate problems later.)

Typically in a friends with benefits arrangement, one person wants more than something casual. There might be a chance that both of you want to be more than friends with benefits. If that’s the case, then I would recommend trying to date each other before becoming roommates. If you move in with someone you’ve just started dating, it automatically becomes a serious relationship. Give yourselves time to figure out if you can transition from friends with benefits to being a couple before taking such a serious step.

What other advice do you have for this reader?

The Cart Before The Horse

I felt as though Mr. Agency and I were in a good place. I saw him regularly, he treated me well, and I was content. There wasn’t any urgency to define where we were going, especially since we were a new couple and I had just started chemotherapy.

The night after the Gala, I made a comment that I hoped that we could go out for a drink once I was feeling stronger.

Me: Or to an event…or lunch. Something that doesn’t involve us at here at 2am. I’m okay with that most of the time, but not all of the time.

Mr. Agency: We can do that. [Pause.] A lot of my past girlfriends thought that I wouldn’t work as much or would look for another job once I was in a relationship, but that’s not me.

Me: I realize that. I’m just talking about lunch or a drink once in a while.

Mr. Agency: Yeah, I just want to make sure that you understand where I'm coming from. I don’t see settling down or changing my lifestyle anytime soon. I doubt I’ll get married or start a family until I’m much older.

Me: That’s fine.

Mr. Agency: Most girls say that in the beginning, but then they have a problem with it as the months go on. I don’t want you to resent me down the road.

Me: I’m not most girls, and I doubt that I’ll ever resent you. I know how important your work is to you and how you want to take things to the next level professionally. If we're going to continue dating, we have to support each other's goals.

Mr. Agency: Other girls have said that to me before, but then the resentments kick in when they realize that I'm not going to change.

Me: I'm not asking you to change, and I hope that you don't ask me to change. I don’t really care if I ever get married. After I finish treatment, I’m going to focus on building my brand. And then, in 2012, I want to adopt a little girl. I hadn't planned on doing that with a partner.

Mr. Agency: Oh. [Pause.] Okay.

Me: I care about you, and I’m glad we’re together. But, we've only known each other since July. Do we need to figure out our future right now?

Mr. Agency: I guess we don’t.

I had hoped that would be the end of the discussion, but apparently, Mr. Agency had more to say. Two nights later, as we were snuggling on the sofa bed, he kissed me and commented:

I feel like I’m just a filler until you adopt.

Me [with a very confused look on my face]: Are you joking?

Mr. Agency: Nope. [I look at him with very wide eyes.] In every joke, there’s some truth!

Where was this coming from? Had aliens just possessed Mr. Agency’s body?

Me: Seriously. What are you talking about?

Mr. Agency: Well, you said how you wanted to adopt a child and wanted to do that alone. What about us?

Me: What about us?

Mr. Agency: Well, what if I want to take things to the next level? I want to know that you’re all in.

Me: You’re messing with me, right?

Mr. Agency: No. What if I want more?

Me: Like marriage and kids?

Mr. Agency: Yes.

Seriously?!? What had happened in the last 48 hours?

Me: Umm…it’s not like we’ve been dating for that long. Can’t we just enjoy where we’re at now? Why are we talking about what’s going to happen in future?

Mr. Agency: I just need to know that you’re all in.

Me: We're together. We're not dating or sleeping with other people. What more do you need? [Pause.] Do you want me to go on Facebook and say that we're in a relationship? [We laugh.] I'd happily do that, but I know you well enough to know that you won't. You're way too private for that. [Pause.] You said yesterday that you were worried that I would want too much from you since that’s been your experience with other girls. What changed in two days?

Mr. Agency: Well, I was just thinking about what we talked about. What if I want something different?

Me: And you know that this soon?

Mr. Agency: I just want to know that if I do want more, you’re open to that.

Me: I'm not averse to it, but I'm not thinking in the long term right now. I try to plan as much as I can, but things happen as they are meant to. It’s not like I expected to get cancer, but I adjusted my life accordingly. Adopting a child is very important to me, but if we keep dating and we decide that we want the same things, then I'm open to that. Does that make sense to you?

Mr. Agency: Yes.

He smiled and kissed me goodnight. We fell asleep and had sex in the morning before I headed off to New York City. I was still very confused about what Mr. Agency wanted (probably because Mr. Agency was very confused about what he wanted), but I trusted that time would tell if we were on the same page.

Back In The Saddle

I felt so sick after my first round of chemotherapy that I didn’t have sex for almost a week. When I finally did have sex, I felt like I was “dialing it in.” To me, “dialing it in” means that I was doing it for the sake of doing it. I’m not one to fake it, but I definitely wasn’t performing to the best of my abilities. It was difficult to be in certain positions or give a good blow job without feeling nauseous. And, I worried that having an orgasm would be too much for me while I was recouping. (Aren’t orgasms for women like Pringles? Who can have just one?)

Through it all, Mr. Agency was incredibly understanding. I started to feel better from my first round on September 30^th and decided to go forward with my plans to head to my 20^th High School Reunion. Autumn and I would be driving up to Manhattan, and Mr. Agency came over to be with me before I left. (He also was heading out of town on a business trip that weekend so we wouldn’t see each other for eight days straight. That was long for us.)

In the morning, Mr. Agency began to go down on me. With each stroke of his tongue, I wondered whether chemotherapy had caused me to lose my sex drive. I worried that I wouldn’t be able cum as easily or as often because of treatment. As my mind wandered, I reminded myself of what the doctor had told me:

Sex drive is more mental than physical.

I let myself go and stopped thinking so hard. I realized that I wasn’t going to let cancer change my sex life anymore than it already had.

Me: Right there. Please don’t stop.

Mr. Agency always aimed to please. He kept his tongue on my clit, and I came. Hard.

I thought to myself, “Yes! I still got it!”

I was glowing from having gotten off, but I also felt unsure about my future with Mr. Agency. Were we on the same page

Feeling Lucky

I had let Best Boy know that we needed to take the “benefits” out of our “friends with benefits” arrangement. It surprised me that he cared more about me than he had led on, but my energy – in and out of the bedroom – was focused on my new relationship with Mr. Agency.

Mr. Agency and I continued to see each other two or three times a week. His schedule typically precluded us from going out on dates, but we had found a good balance.

My mood in mid-September was less lighthearted, when I learned that I needed chemotherapy. I was worried how the drugs would change me — and us.

Me: You realize that this is going to get a lot worse, right?

Mr. Agency: Yes, and I'll be here for you.

Me: I just feel really vulnerable now. Like I don't want cancer to be the reason why we don't work out.

Mr. Agency: That's not going to happen.

Me: If I'm bald?

Mr. Agency: I'll help you find a hot wig. Some look that you've always wanted to try. You are going to look sexy no matter what!

Me [smiling as I bury my head in his chest]: Maybe…what if I lose my sex drive?

Mr. Agency: That's not going to happen with you.

Me [laughing out loud]: Misty joked that if I lose my sex drive, I would still have a normal person's drive.

Mr. Agency: Exactly. And, if you lose your drive, then it just means that I have to work harder.

I kissed him, as I fought back tears of happiness. That feeling only increased after I had my port* installed. I hadn’t expected the procedure to install the port to be so painful and was surprised at how rough I felt.

My friend, Tricia, was over helping me out that evening, when Mr. Agency texted me to see how I was doing. He offered to come over after his event.

Tricia: Are you sure you want him to see you like this?

Me; Since I’m hurting so much? [She nods.] I think so. Chemo is going to be much tougher. If he can’t handle this, then at least I’ll know.

Tricia: I can see that. [Pause.] Are you going to be okay if he can’t handle it?

Me: I hope so. I’m sure it would hurt a bit, but better to find out now than later.

There was a knock on the door, and Tricia went to answer it. (She had met Mr. Agency once before when we all went for a dog walk together.)

Mr. Agency [to Tricia]: How’s she doing?

Tricia: Not so good. She’s in a lot of pain. Will you be able to help her out tonight?

Mr. Agency: Definitely.

And, he did just that. He held me close, brought me water, walked my dog, and kissed me sweetly. He understood that I wasn’t up for having sex and didn’t push me. He reminded me that he would be there for me and that I’d get through this.

In the midst of the pain, I smiled. I felt very, very lucky.

* A port is a tiny device that is surgically inserted under the skin in your chest and provides access to a vein. It makes receiving chemotherapy much, much easier, and eliminates the pain associated with not finding a vein. If you or a loved one needs to get chemo, I highly recommend getting a port!

More Than Friends With Benefits

After my recent conversation with Mr. Agency, I had some concerns. Would his lack of work/life balance be problematic for us in the long run? And, how much of a priority did he place on follow through? Since I was still getting to know him and liked a lot of the qualities he possessed, I decided to wait and see how (or would that be if?) our relationship progressed.

Given how regularly Mr. Agency made comments about my past dating history and his need to have an emotional connection to reach orgasm, I realized that my friend, T, was right. If I wanted to pursue a relationship with Mr. Agency, I had to stop sleeping with Best Boy. I hoped that wouldn’t be too difficult since we were just friends with benefits anyway.

Best Boy was in Los Angeles the week after Labor Day, when I received the following text:

I had a dream about us last night.

Me: Really?!? What were we doing in the dream?

Best Boy: You were sitting on top on my lap on one of your dining room chairs. I was doing you from behind with a cock ring on.

Me: Sounds hot!

Best Boy: We need to try that when I get back.

Me: Hmm…maybe.

I sext with the best of them so my apathy spoke volumes.

Best Boy: Maybe?

Me: Well, I started seeing someone recently and feel like I should give that a chance since he's more of a relationship guy. Hope you can appreciate that.

We texted back and forth a few more times. Best Boy claimed that he stopped seeing Melanie* because of me, and I responded that was his choice.

Me: I never asked you to do that. We weren’t dating. We’re just friends who’ve been having sex.

Best Boy picked up the telephone and called me. When I saw his name come in on my Caller ID, I noted my surprise to Autumn, who was sitting next to me on the couch.

Best Boy: I’m fine if you don’t want to sleep with me anymore, but I don’t sit on the bench for anyone.

Me: What does that mean?

Best Boy: If you stop sleeping with me now, don’t expect to call me up when you’re no longer in a relationship and start sleeping with me again. If you take me out of the line-up, that’s it.

Me: Seriously? So, a year from now, if we’re both single and want to have sex with each other, you’re not going to fuck me because of spite?

Best Boy: Correct. I don’t play second string.

Me: Umm…okay. [I look at Autumn with a confused expression on my face.] Does that mean that we can still be friends?

Best Boy: Of course we can still be friends.

Me: Well, that’s good. I don’t want that to change. And, I didn’t want to upset you. I just wasn’t expecting things to go in this direction with the new guy.

Best Boy and I talked for another 10 minutes, and I sensed how hurt he was.

When I hung up the phone, I turned to Autumn and said:

Did I just have a break-up conversation with Best Boy? [She nods her head.] How could we break up if we were never going out? I guess he liked me liked me. [She nods her head again.]

I hadn’t had a friends with benefits relationship in a while because those arrangements never seem to work. One person always ends up having feelings for the other, and in this scenario, it caught me off guard that Best Boy had developed feelings for me. How could we have amounted to anything more, given his relationship with Mr. Exec?

I felt bad that Best Boy had viewed our relationship differently than I did, but it was time to try something new…with Mr. Agency.

* I gave Best Boy's girl the nickname of "Melanie." In retrospect, that might have been confusing since my web designer's real name is Melanie. They are not one in the same.

From Smiles To…

The week after Labor Day, Mr. Agency and I continued to spend a lot of time together in bed.

Mr. Agency: I don’t understand those couples that don’t have a lot of sex. I bet that most people wish that they had a sex life like ours. [We laugh.]

In the midst of our Sex Fest, I noticed that Mr. Agency would bring up my ex-boyfriends…or guys who had wanted to date me…or athletes I didn’t know in real life, but he thought wanted to date me.

His comments weren't entirely without merit. DC is a very small town, and he did know several of my ex-boyfriends in real life. And, I had also shared two funny stories with him early on about two public figures that had tried to date me. (In retrospect, I realized that I shouldn’t have talked about that.)

I would joke about seeing photographs online of him and women at events, but his tone about "how all the guys love me" was more jealous than jovial. It occurred to me that he needed validation that I cared about him. I made sure to interject comments — while we were having sex and when we were apart – to let him know how happy he made me.

Mr. Agency: You say that to all the boys.

Me: No, I don’t. I'll just have to make sure that you realize that.

As we spent more and more time together, I could tell that Mr. Agency began to feel more comfortable. I found myself smiling every time that I thought about him.

Mr. Agency and I became closer, while Best Boy was on vacation in Los Angeles. I had received a text from my friend, D, that she unfortunately wouldn’t be able to see Best Boy when he was in California. I hadn’t thought much about what I was going to do when Best Boy returned to DC, until my friend, T, asked:

You’re not still going to hook up with Best Boy now that you and Mr. Agency are having sex, are you?

Me: I hadn’t thought about it much.

T: I thought that Best Boy was just someone to have fun with, though.

Me: He is.

T: And, you and Mr. Agency are more like a couple. You’re seeing a lot of each other now, right?

Me: Yeah. I saw him Sunday and Tuesday, and he's coming over tonight [Thursday].

T: Well, now that you and Mr. Agency are having sex, how would you feel if you knew that he was having sex with another person?

After thinking about that for a minute, I replied:

I guess I would be hurt, even if I didn’t have a right to be. [Pause.] Maybe you’re right. It might be easier to just focus on Mr. Agency and see where it goes, especially since I can't be more than friends with Best Boy.

While T and I were talking at Teatro Goldoni, Mr. Agency walked in. I smiled, as he came over to say hello to both of us.

Me: I didn’t expect to see you! What are you doing here?

Mr. Agency: Well, I had a few minutes between the embassy event and the agency dinner so I figured that I would come by to say hello. I also knew that some of my friends would be here so I wanted to introduce you to them. [I smile a big, toothy grin.]

He walked over to introduce me to Clark and Jared without realizing that I already knew Jared.

Jared: So…how do you two know each other?

Mr. Agency and I just looked at each other and giggled. We giggled like we were in middle school. He finally mentioned that we met at the Masquerade Party, as the two of us blushed awkwardly.

Mr. Agency [when Jared wasn’t listening]: I need to head out now, but I’ll come by later.

Me: Good! I’m really glad you popped in. See you later. [We kiss on the cheek.]

I went back over to T, and we both thought that it was promising that Mr. Agency came by, if only for a few minutes.

T: I’ve never seen you like this.

Me: All giddy, you mean?

T: Yeah.

I was giddy about Mr. Agency. I went home still swooning. I made up my sofa bed on the chance that Mr. Agency couldn't sleep well in my bed, and I put out some lube and a cock ring. I laid down to try to sleep for a couple of hours before he came over, but didn't get much rest since I didn't want to miss his call.

When my phone vibrated at 2am, I awoke with a smile on my face. But, my smile turned to a frown, when I read Mr. Agency's text:

Just got home from the dinner. Going to get some sleep tonight. I’ll see you soon, sexy. Sleep well.

I stared at my phone incredulously. Was he joking?

To be continued…

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time, there was a Little City Girl. Her parents raised her with love, support and opportunities. They let her know that she could be anything that she wanted to be when she was older.

At 14, Little City Girl told her father that she wanted to go to Wellesley College and become a lawyer.

“Why do you want to be a lawyer?” he inquired.

“Because I like to write, debate and help people,” Little City Girl replied.

When she went to Wellesley several years later, the professors also impressed upon her and her classmates that they could be and do anything.

A college internship brought City Girl to Washington, DC, in 1993, and she fell in love with the nation’s capital. After her internship ended, she stayed in DC and got a job as a legal assistant. She went on to law school, and when she finally started to work as an attorney, she was thankful that an instinct that she had 12 years prior was the right one.

In her first job, she noticed that wearing a short skirt or a fitted sweater to work prompted inappropriate comments from her bosses. With each subsequent position, she sported more pants suits and felt more comfortable informing male colleagues that their behavior was unacceptable.

She also learned that although her dating stories were entertaining, she had to be selective about what she shared with co-workers. One partner only knew that she was dating an NFL player – without any specifics – and thought it funny to walk into a meeting after a football game, saying:

Your boyfriend can’t handle his balls.

In theory, she could do anything professionally that she wanted. But, unfortunately, that didn’t mean that her age, gender, appearance or sexuality wouldn’t be topics of conversation or affect other people’s perceptions of her around the office.

When City Girl left firm life for a nonprofit, she began doing some legal policy work. She always relied on facts and the law, rather than emotions, when speaking about a polarizing issue, but that didn’t stop a few very conservative people from sending her office hate mail. Her former boss approached her about doing policy work exclusively. She was flattered, but she worried that she would miss working directly with the clients if she chose that path.

In 2008, she decided to take a sabbatical from the law to focus on health issues and finish her master’s program. As she prepared to write her thesis, she thought it would be fun to start blogging about her dating adventures. She chose to blog anonymously so that if she reentered the policy arena, her sexuality wouldn’t be used against her. (If she had received several pieces of hate mail and comments about her appearance or significant others without provocation, she knew that her sex life and dating mishaps would become ammunition for those who disagreed with her politics.)

As her blog readership grew, she began attending events as City Girl. Quite a few people in DC knew both her real name and blog link, but they kindly respected her privacy. Local online publications were also understanding, taking her picture with her name or quoting her as City Girl without using her name or face. She managed with the help of others to remain anonymous from the legal policy world.

In 2010, City Girl wondered if it was worth taking another year away from the law to see where her blog could go and start teaching sexual health workshops. She joined the American Association of Sex Educators, Counselors and Therapists and attended their annual conference. She also found a platform, as she wrote about the use of toxic ingredients in sex toys and the need for self-regulation. Lotus Blooms and Fascinations at Fun Love approached her about writing for their sites and reviewing body-friendly products for them. She began to ponder how she could advocate for safe sex toys on a larger scale.

When she was diagnosed with breast cancer in June of 2010, she decided to use her experience to try to raise awareness and help others. Her friends and doctors knew that she was willing to talk about what she was going through, and opportunities to do just that followed. The more that she talked about her experience and let others in, the more she wanted to continue to do so.

She finished chemotherapy and realized that she is stronger than she thought that she was. She also realized that there’s much more for her to do as an advocate and that it’s time to come out from behind her laptop. If she can help one more person through her blog, her photographs or her interviews, it’s worth it. She accepts that she may never work again in the legal policy arena, although she wishes that there wasn’t a double standard with respect to female sexuality in the workplace.

Once upon a time, there was a City Girl with long, red hair named Stef Woods.

Photo Credit: Kristina Hopper Photography

She’s bald now, but she still feels sexy.

Photo Credit: Moshe Zusman Photography

Although she’s not exactly sure what will happen next, she trusts that she will live happily ever after.

Quite The Teddy Bear

My friendship with benefits arrangement with Best Boy thankfully didn’t bar me from pursuing a relationship with Mr. Agency. I use the term, “relationship,” loosely, though, since I wasn’t able to date Mr. Agency in the conventional sense.

“Why not?” you might be wondering.

Well, Mr. Agency worked a minimum of 100 hours a week. When most couples were heading off to dinner or a movie, Mr. Agency was still stuck in a meeting or going to an event. So, our “dates” consisted of him coming over to my place at midnight…or 2am.

If I had been looking for a traditional relationship, then his schedule obviously would have presented a problem for me. But, I wasn’t. I enjoyed his company so I was fine with seeing him late at night once or twice a week. And, at a time in my life when I needed a little extra tender loving care, I liked making out with Mr. Agency and falling asleep with his arms around me. There wasn’t any pressure to have sex or decide where this was going.

Mr. Agency and I would lie in bed talking for hours, and he made me smile and laugh about everything and nothing. Even though we were just getting to know each other, he would bring up future plans, joking about a couple’s costume we could wear for Halloween or a conference that we both might attend in January.

We discussed past relationships and what problems we had encountered. I could tell that he was relieved that I didn’t find his schedule or the fact that there were quite a few women in DC who vied for his attention at every event as problems. And, I found it comforting that he wanted to talk about cancer and my blog. There weren't any topics that were off limits with us.

I had always viewed Mr. Agency like a big teddy bear, until the night we moved from kissing to oral. I expect to enjoy myself from that, but I didn't expect to have to say, "when" and ask for a break. Mr. Agency went from teddy bear to Captain Cunninglingus and back to a teddy bear.

The next day, Mr. Agency headed off to London for meetings. While he was away, he texted me every day to tell me that he was thinking of me. He asked me to let him know what the oncologist said about my treatment plan, and I did just that.

The following morning, my phone rang. When I saw that it was Mr. Agency, I was surprised that he was calling me while he was overseas.

Me: Hey! Is everything okay?

Mr. Agency: I know that I told you to text me about what the doctor said, but this is too important to text about so I wanted to call you. Tell me about your appointment yesterday.

We talked for an hour that morning with a plan to see each other the day after he returned in DC. I hung up the phone wondering if this had more relationship potential than I had initially thought.

A Good Friendship

Best Boy and I continued to spend more time together, and I appreciated the fact that he put the “friend” in “friend with benefits.” He checked in to see how I was feeling post-surgery and if I needed anything. He came over two to three times a week and let me be the guide as to whether or not I felt up to having sex post-surgery. He helped me out when I was recouping by walking my dog. And, when I had sex toys or condoms to review, he was always willing to lend a…hand.

When I described our relationship to my girlfriends, we all agreed:

Best Boy really was the BEST Boy!

A few girlfriends wondered if Best Boy and I could become more than friends with benefits. My answer was always the same:

No. We can't be anymore than that given that Mr. Exec [my ex-boyfriend] is like a brother to him. Plus, we haven't gone out on a date since that night with Mr. Exec at Ceiba. We're just friends who have sex.

Best Boy hadn’t initially informed Mr. Exec that we were sleeping together so it caught me a bit off-guard when the following conversation ensued:

Me: Depending on my treatment schedule, I might be helping out at The Gala. [The Gala was an annual political fundraiser, and I knew that I would see Mr. Exec at the event.] Mr. Exec still doesn’t know we’re hanging out, right?

Best Boy: No. I told him.

Me [trying not to stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth]: Really? How did that go?

Best Boy: Fine. He said he doesn’t care.

A control freak and narcissist like Mr. Exec always cares! I tried not to laugh out loud and chose to proceed nonchalantly.

Me: Oh. Well, that’s good. How did it come up?

Best Boy: I just didn’t feel comfortable keeping it from him so I told him that we had been together.

Me: Good. I’m happy that it doesn’t have to be a big deal.

What I Really Wanted To Say: Can you tell me every single detail so I can blog about it?

The topic turned to Best Boy’s upcoming trip to Los Angeles, and I mentioned that one of my close friends, D, lives out there.

Me: She’s brilliant, kind and gorgeous!

Best Boy: Really?

I pulled up a photo of her, and Best Boy nodded in approval.

Me: Want me to hook you guys up?

Best Boy: You would do that?

Me: Of course.

Best Boy: No, you wouldn’t.

Me [grabbing my phone]: I’m texting her now. [D and I text back and forth, and she says it’s fine for him to email her.] She won’t be in LA the whole time you’re there, but she says that she hopes to meet you.

Best Boy: You wouldn’t be cool with that, though, would you?

Me: As long as you tell me all about it! We’re friends. Sex is sex. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.

The following morning, Best Boy told me that he and D had become friends on Facebook and that he would be emailing her.

Me: Great! Seal the deal! [I laugh.]

Best Boy [pausing]: I didn’t expect you [pause] to be so cool.

Me [laughing]: Oh, you mean because of what went down with Mr. Exec? [He nods.] Your boy treated me horribly. I don’t aspire to be emotional or act psycho, but when someone keeps playing Jedi mind tricks on me, I can get that way. I’d much prefer to be relaxed and honest about everything. You and I work in this mode. There’s no need for drama.

Best Boy smiled and kissed me before heading off to work. I was really enjoying this friendship!