Stef Woods

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.

Communication Is Key

Mr. Agency had indicated that he would come over to my place after his events.  So, when I received a text at 2am in which he wrote that he had gone home and would see me soon, I was irritated.  I texted back:

Seriously?!?  I wish that you had let me know this earlier in the night so I could have made other plans.

Mr. Agency rightfully decided that this was not an appropriate conversation to have over text and picked up the telephone to call me.  We exchanged salutations, and then discussed what had happened.

Mr. Agency: I figured that you were already sleeping since it was so late.

Me: I didn't really fall asleep since we had plans and I didn't want to miss your call.

Mr. Agency: I didn't realize that.  [Pause.]  I didn't expect you to be so upset.

Me: I’m not upset.  I’m disappointed.  You had told me earlier in the day that you were coming over.  It was great to see you at Teatro, and when you left, you still said that you were going to come over later.  If that had changed, you should have let me know earlier in the night.

Mr. Agency: And then you’re all like: I would have made other plans!

Me: I didn’t mean other plans with a guy.  I meant that I might have joined T for a drink at Park.  Or, I would’ve come home and not waited up for you.  [Pause.]  I guess I could have phrased my text better.

Mr. Agency: This is why I don’t normally get into relationships with people.

Me: Because you have to communicate with them?

Mr. Agency: Because my schedule is so crazy that I can’t really date anyone.  I had been thinking about how awesome you were and how we never had a problem, and then this happens.

Me: Umm…we’re both human so if we’re going to keep dating each other, you’ll have to realize that we’re going to disagree or get in tiffs about things.  But, if we communicate with each other, we’ll be fine.  I don’t mind that we can’t go out often, and I’ve told you that I can deal with your schedule.  But, if you say you’re going to do something, I expect you to do so.  That’s not a lot to ask.

Mr. Agency: That’s why I never make plans.

Me: Really?  Even with your friends?

Mr. Agency: Yeah.  They understand that 99% of the time I’m too busy to do anything.

Me: That’s interesting, but it’s a little different with us.  We’re sleeping together.  And, we’re not talking about you going out, but about you coming over after you’re done with work.  I’m cool with your schedule, but you need to work with me here.

Our conversation lasted 45 minutes, but it was rather repetitive in nature.  I kept stressing that he needed to communicate with me, and he continued to highlight how crazy his schedule was and how most people don’t understand his lifestyle.

Me: I understand it, but you need to decide if you’re going to make an effort to come over here when you’re done with work or not.  I don’t care if you come over late, but if you’re not sleeping at my place, we’re not going to see a lot of each other and things definitely won’t work.

Mr. Agency: Okay.  [Pause.]  So, do you want to sleep or should I come over?

Me: I’m definitely awake now, and I’d like you to come over.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Agency arrived at my front door.  He smiled when he saw that the sofa bed was made up for him.

Me: See!  I had things all ready for you.  I want to make sure you get your sleep when you’re here.

Mr. Agency: You’re awesome.

Me: So…we’re cool?

Mr. Agency: Yes.

He kissed me, and we walked into the bedroom.  When we woke the following morning, we talked some more about everything.  His schedule was definitely different, but I didn’t view that as a problem, as long as he communicated with me.  I wasn’t sure what the future would hold for us, but I liked him enough to see.

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…

Chemo Room Musings

I spent 26 days in the Chemotherapy Room over a period of three and a half months.  In that time, I observed a lot and learned a lot.  Here are some of my musings:

1. A female always accompanied male patients to the chemotherapy room, whether as a daughter, wife, girlfriend or mother.  By contrast, female patients were rarely accompanied by a male friend or loved one.  Women battling cancer surrounded themselves with the females in their lives. 

That observation made me think about stereotypical gender roles with respect to caretaking.  Do women choose to be around other women at a difficult time because many women instinctively know how to care for others?  Or, is it related to how men and women perceive the value of men’s work outside of the home versus women’s work outside of the home? 

Women comprised my support system during my treatment.  These females just did what needed to be done without me asking for it.  Or, they would offer to help in specific ways and be available to me at specific times.  (Some of these women worked outside of the home with traditional hours, while others weren't working or had a more flexible work schedule.) 

The men in my life had to be told how they could help me, and none of the men I’ve written about in this blog ever accompanied me to get IVs.  Several friends and readers commented that they wish I had a man who would be by my side through every part of this experience, but I didn’t.  I think of how the majority of my friends’ significant others deal with care giving, child rearing, and health issues, and I’d much prefer to have someone by my side who knows what needs to be done and just does it.

2. I was the only bald woman in the Chemotherapy Room 24 out of 26 days.  Think about that for a minute.  A woman is going to receive chemotherapy, and that’s typically the only activity that she will be doing that day outside of her home.  She will be in a room with her doctor, nurses and other cancer patients who are going through similar experiences.  As she dresses, she puts on a wig, hat, scarf, or some combination of all three.  What does that say about how she views herself and conventional standards of beauty and femininity?

The wigmaker for the Washington Opera Company kindly offered to help me pick out a wig that was similar to my natural hair color and length.  I love the wig that we chose, but it doesn’t always look good on me.  (Wigs made of human hair need to be washed and styled.  When they aren’t well-maintained, they look rather funky.) 

I had a great head of hair.  Now, I’m bald because of chemotherapy.  Why should I feel less sexy, beautiful or feminine because of that?  Why should I care about making others feel more comfortable about my experience?  Why shouldn’t I make people think about cancer while they’re out shopping at Whole Foods or grabbing a drink at L2?

In the Chemotherapy Room, other female patients would come up to me, saying how brave I was to go bald.  And, at least one person approaches me when I’m out in public, saying how beautiful I look or sharing a story about how cancer has affected them.  Last month, I put my wig in the corner of my closet and decided that’s where it should stay.  I’m the girl, walking around town with a bald head.  I've realized that feeling comfortable with my baldness and talking about my experience with breast cancer can help to educate others.  That's important to me.  I view my baldness like a badge of honor because I earned it.

3. The experience was tougher than I thought it would be, but I’m stronger than I thought I was.  I knew that chemotherapy wouldn’t be easy, and I knew that it would hit me harder than most given my other medical conditions.  But, I didn’t expect to require 20 additional days of IVs than the average person.  It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t always the most chipper person to be around.  (My friends, especially Autumn and Tricia, deserve a medal for putting up with me.)  But, I relied on my faith, counted my blessings that this was caught early, and reminded myself that this is part of God’s plan for me.

4. I came away from the Chemotherapy Room with a few epiphanies about my life and the direction that I want it to take.  I’ve realized with a sense of calm and certainty that it’s time.

“Time for what?” you might be wondering.

That, my friends, is for another post.  In the meantime, I’d love to hear your thoughts about stereotypical gender roles when it comes to caretaking and how you’ve reacted to seeing someone who has lost her hair from chemotherapy.  xoxo

Graduation Day

She dresses in layers on a bitterly cold morning in January, as she heads for the doctor’s office for her last round of chemotherapy.  Her eye twitches from three months without enough sleep.  Her pale face turns beat red with every hot flash.  She’s crabby from all the steroids.  Her taste buds are almost completely gone, replaced with a constant taste of dull metal in her mouth.  And, she’s still nauseous and throwing up from the last round of chemotherapy three weeks ago.

“You look kind of glum,” her doctor commented with a note of surprise.

“I’m so over this,” she replies.  “I don’t want anymore.”

“Given how you’ve been feeling, you have to expect that this round will be the worst.  The effects are cumulative.  You probably won’t feel better from this round for six weeks.”

“Six weeks?!?” she exclaims.

She goes in the bathroom and cries.  The average person recoups from a round of chemotherapy in a week to 10 days.  The average person just needs one day of IVs per round, and that’s it.

For her, six rounds of chemotherapy translated into 26 days of IVs.  (Her body really didn’t respond well to chemotherapy so she needed more drugs and fluids to alleviate the side effects.)  She knows that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but she doesn’t want six more weeks of feeling this poorly.

She takes a night to process that the next six weeks will be rough and then decides to focus on the positive.  As the week progresses, she feels worse physically, but better emotionally.  By mid-February, the effects of chemotherapy will be a thing of the past.  This was caught early.  She is lucky.  And, she has faith that she will fall within the 85% of people whose cancer doesn’t return in five years.

She thinks of all the many blessings in her life.  She has the best health insurance and medical care available.  She has never had to go to the chemotherapy room alone.  Her friends were by her side at each and every visit – all 26 of them. 

As the week draws to a close, she returns for her last day of chemo-related IVs.  She sees a 32-year-old woman getting her first round of chemotherapy.  The young woman looks like a deer in headlights.

“I’m sure this seems surreal.  I was there, too.  You’ll get through it, though, and if you need anything, just call me,” she tells her.

A few hours later, the last drops of fluid drip from her IV bag.  She and her friend watch, holding hands with tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces.  The nurse comes over with tears in her eyes to announce to the room that she has graduated.  She knows that she will remember that feeling for the rest of her life.

She did it. 

She’ll begin 30 sessions of radiation later this month.  And, because her aggressive type of breast cancer is HER2+, she’ll need to receive an IV of a drug called Herceptin once every three weeks through September.

The light at the end of the tunnel almost blinds her from its brightness.  She wipes tears of pride, joy and gratitude from her cheeks and smiles.

She’s done. 

She prays that she will never have to go through that again.  And, she vows to continue doing what she can to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer prevention and research. 

We all need to have a plan after graduation, don't we?

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!

The Rabbit Habit

When the owners of Lotus Blooms handed me my next toy to review, I smiled like a kid in a candy store and exclaimed:

A phthalate-free Rabbit!

See, I had thrown out my old, jelly rubber Rabbit when I learned that it contained potentially harmful ingredients.  And, I’m a fan of products like the Rabbit that stimulate more than one area.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with rabbit-shaped toys, they consist of:

A phallic vibrator with two or more rows of rotating pearl beads that will hit your G-Spot just so; and

A separate tickler attached to the shaft with soft bunny ears to pleasure your clit.

 
 

There are many Rabbits out there, but Vibratex’s version of the Rabbit, known as the Rabbit Habit, is regarded as the gold standard.  For more than 20 years, Vibratex has manufactured high-quality, body-friendly toys.  Since the majority of women can only orgasm clitorally, the company’s products are designed to do just that, while also allowing for additional G-Spot stimulation.

The Rabbit Habit is made of smooth, safe elastomer.  The toy contains no phthalates or latex and can be used with either silicone or water-based lubricant.  The shaft portion of the product is 5” by 1.5”, which is substantial without being overwhelming.  Although the toy only takes 3 AA batteries, it still packs quite a powerful punch!  For those of you Sex and the City fans, it was Vibratex’s Rabbit Habit that was featured in the show.

When I try out a product like the Rabbit Habit that has separate controls for clitoral and G-Spot stimulation, I test out all the options: clitorally; G-Spot; and dual stimulation.  I started first with the clitoral section or the little bunny ears.  I liked how easy it was to control the toy with a simple flick of the finger up or down.

When I turned the Rabbit Habit on, I expected to lay back, relax and enjoy the ride.  But, that unfortunately didn’t happen.  All I could focus on was how loud the toy was.  

How loud was it?   The product was so loud that I was worried that the noise would wake my neighbors up.  I had this vision of my building’s security guard knocking on my door, asking if I had a contractor in my unit after hours.  Yes, the Rabbit Habit is that loud!

Once I was able to collect myself and overlook the noise, I could focus on the benefits of the toy itself.  The bunny ears are definitely geared for clitoral pleasure, and the pearls inside the shaft are perfect for G-Spot stimulation.  This Rabbit Habit also allows you the freedom to get off just one way or both by just sliding one of the two controls on the battery pack.  And, at $90, the Rabbit Habit is moderately priced for a high-quality, dual-action toy.

I’m torn between Two and Three Squeals of Approval for this toy.  The Rabbit Habit gets Three Squeals because it’s a high-quality, body-friendly toy that will provide you with clitoral and G-Spot pleasure.  But, the noise definitely brought my level of enjoyment down a notch.

Oprah Magazine called the Rabbit Habit: The Rolls Royce of Sex Toys, but I have to disagree with that assessment.  If you want the Rolls Royce of toys, I recommend spending a little more for the Lelo Elise.  The Rabbit Habit is a habit that I could personally do without.  xoxo

*Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the Rabbit Habit free of charge in exchange for my honest assessment of the product.

Spooning With Best Boy

That first week in August 2010, I let Best Boy set the tone about how often we saw each other.  That seemed to work well, as I saw him four times within seven nights. Sex was definitely the focus of our time together, but while he was over, we also managed to catch up, watch some television and do some work.

When I saw Best Boy 12 days after my first breast surgery, I felt strong enough to have sex without a bra.  (Boobs are meant to be displayed, kissed and licked, after all!)  I took my bra off, and Best Boy got on top of me.  My right leg was around his neck, and he was thrusting with a high velocity.  My tits started bouncing, and I wondered if that would be a problem so I moved my left hand over to cup my right breast.

After we both came, Best Boy got up to go to the bathroom.  I turned over and was in excruciating pain.  I looked down and saw that my right breast had swelled to THREE times the size!  (I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not.  This was like elephanTITis!)

Me  [in a voice that sounded as though I was trying to imitate Rain Man]: This isn't good.  [Pause.]  Something’s wrong.  [Pause.]  This isn't good.  Something's wrong.

Best Boy [coming out of the bathroom]: What’s wrong?  [He looks at me, and his eyes become wide.]  Do we need to go to the ER?

Me: I really hope not.  I don’t know, though.  Mind getting me some ice?

I put my bra back on, placed the ice packs inside and took some Tylenol.  My swollen tit kept throbbing, and I was worried.  My next surgery was less than three days away, and I would hate to have it postponed from a sex injury!  (I'm all for having fun, but there are limits!)

In the morning, I had an event to go to, and Best Boy was kind enough to give me a ride.  He told me to let him know if I needed anything.  Later that day, I texted him:

I’m thankful that we have such great chemistry, but I’m far more thankful that you’re my friend.

And, I was. 

The Perfect Line-Up

Boston Christian called me from the airport to update me on his dad’s status and say goodbye.  I was glad to have seen him that week in August 2010, but his visit also provided me with clarity.  Back in 2007, I had wondered if he and I were meant to date again.  Now, though, I realized that Boston Christian was meant to be my high school love, and my friend as an adult.

That evening, I received a text from Mr. Agency.  (Although we had talked the previous week, we hadn't seen each other since before my surgery.)

Mr. Agency: How are you feeling, sexy?

Me: Good!  Almost all recouped :).  You?

Mr. Agency: I’m good.  I have an event tonight.  If it doesn’t end too late, would you be up for some company?

Me: Of course!  And, it’s okay to come over whenever your event is done.  I’m up late.

Mr. Agency came over around midnight.  I grabbed him a drink, and we caught up on my couch.  It was always easy to talk with Mr. Agency, and I found his smile and laugh infectious.  We discussed a variety of topics from politics to sports to my surgery to the DC social scene.  Yet again, the more time we spent together getting to know each other, the more I liked him.

Since it was late, I asked if he wanted to spend the night.  When we got into bed, Mr. Agency kissed me for the first time.  There are those kisses that make me hot, and there are those kisses that are sweet.  My kiss with Mr. Agency fell into the latter category.  His lips warmed my heart and made me smile.  I wanted more, but I also knew that it was better if we took things slowly.  There was no need to rush into having sex with him.

We kissed for a while before I fell asleep in his arms.  One of my friends described Mr. Agency as a big, black teddy bear, and that label suited him perfectly.  An hour later, he rolled over and said:

It’s been a while since I’ve slept next to someone.  Do you mind if I move to the couch so I can get a good night's sleep?

Me: Not at all.  If you need more blankets or anything, let me know.

With some guys, I would have taken that personally.  But, Mr. Agency was a good guy.  If he needed his sleep, that was fine with me.  I rolled over and fell back to sleep. 

In the morning, I went into the living room to wake him.  We cuddled and kissed a bit more before he headed off to work.  He told me that we would see each other soon, and I knew that we would.  His extremely hectic schedule might prohibit him from taking me out on traditional dates, but that didn't mean that we couldn't spend time together in some capacity.

I felt content with my August line-up:

Mr. Agency was my Snuggle Buddy.

Best Boy was my Friend With Benefits.

That evening, I received a text from Best Boy, asking what I was doing later.  This was turning out to be quite the summer.