And the award goes too- I straighten my bow tie in the mirror. I always feel so uncomfortable in a tux. I take a deep breath. This is a big night for you. And since you invited me- it is a big night for us. Months of flirting, of hot and cold dates, of unpredictable texting and mixed signals the morning after wonderful nights, and you invited ME to your biggest night.

I call the Uber, meeting you there, as you instructed. You look astounding in a sparkling dress that flows down your figure like a shimmering stream. I tell you so. You smile, and give me a peck on the cheek. But you don’t take my hand. You never take my hand in public. We walked to our seats, sitting next to another handsome man, wearing an almost identical tux. Odd, you had chosen this tux for me. Then you look at him, it’s the same way you look at me, and suddenly I know. Everything makes sense, every missed date, every flirty look, it was all underlined by this other man.

Sure, we would never put labels on anything, you were free to date as you wished. But what was your game? Why were you inviting us both here? He looks at me, and I realize that he is having a similar revelation. You look between us, smiling at each of us.

It’s time for your category. You hold both of our hands as they call out the nominees. “And the award goes to…“ The announcer says. he calls your name. As you stand up to accept your award, you turn to us both. “Let’s celebrate later.”

You take us to a house we’ve never been to before. Is yours? Did you rent it? There’s a pool in the back, and a hot tub. But you have other plans tonight, don’t you? You didn’t invite us both here for nothing. The three of us are alone in this house. You, and your two play things. The two boys you’ve been stringing along for months, and you finally have them right where you want them.

(For women who like to play with their food before that eat it)

Can I borrow some sugar?- Pregnancy does wild things to everyone. Your hormones are all out of whack, things that you would’ve never thought of now seem like a great idea. Sure, why not put pickles on your eggs? But it’s not just food that you’ve been craving recently, is it? You felt another change too. Your husband, so sweet, so delicate, everything you ever wanted, suddenly isn’t enough.

You didn’t know what you wanted, you didn’t have the words for it. Not until the other night, when you looked out your window, and saw through mine. Saw me with my wife, saw her crying in ecstasy as I’ve bent her over the bed, watched longer than you should have, longer than just a peak, as I tugged on her hair, as I slid my fingers into her mouth, as I spanked and smacked and squeezed and fucked.

You always liked delicate. But what we like changes. I work from home, and you have the day off. Sure, you could bake yourself some cookies, or you could knock on my front door, and ask for what you really need.