Two years ago, I wrote about fucking Svetlana, a woman who worked in a massage parlor.

Marian Green, the author of the excellent Creative Noodling blog, recently commented on that post, that it’s a “rush,” a “high,” to seduce someone “who shouldn’t be allowing him or herself to be seduced.”

What I liked best about “seducing” Svetlana was that, while I was paying to see her in the massage parlor, she was fucking me because she wanted to. (Or so I told myself.)

My trainer has a dating pattern. One guy after another is either married or attached. I’ve found it interesting to listen to her as she complains about them. It’s always the same essential complaint: he doesn’t pay enough attention to me.

But why’s she doing this?

Some people get off on violating boundaries. My trainer wants her men to cheat for her, to provide her the high that Marian describes in her comment.

Me, I’m different. I just want to follow the rules. I have almost the opposite impulse: I want everyone to be just fine with everything I do. I want all my lovers to approve of one another, to be fine with the fact that they all exist, that they all occupy space in my mind, in my bed.

Risk scares me.

It doesn’t excite me.

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