[M]y [F]iance found the one girl I was NOT ok with her fucking

No one gets laid in this story. That’s kinda the point.

 

I needed to take a break from writing the long series about first hooking up with my former fiance. I decided to write a quick and easy story about this really funny conversation we had where our very open and honest communication backfired on me pretty hard.

 

After we’d been together for a while and were much more used to being a couple, had lived together for a long time, and were really involved in each other’s lives, we had established a rule.

 

I identify myself as demisexual, which can mean slightly to very different things for each individual. For me, in short, brief, layman’s terms, it means I only fuck people I’m bonded with emotionally, and I’m so sensitive about it that I literally can’t see myself ever so casually hooking up with anyone or dating more than one person at a time, but that is specifically just for me as an individual and does not apply to the people I date. Conversely some who identify as demisexual really, really need exclusivity in their partnerships.

 

It sucks sometimes because when I’m single I won’t get laid for years potentially, and I actually do have a really high sex drive (some demisexuals do some don’t). Plus I get crushes on my close friends sometimes because their souls are beautiful, and that fucking blows. So I’m not monogamous (some demisexuals are poly etc) for any arbitrary moral reason, (though if you value monogamy on those grounds i respect that too) i just don’t have the emotional wherewithal to be with more than one person. Like, just the idea gives me anxiety and is emotionally exhausting. I’m totally cool with people casually hooking up or openly dating multiple people as long as it’s ethical, honest and mutually consensual.

 

So I wasn’t interested in threesomes, or in fucking other people, but i made it clear that she could be with any woman she wanted whenever she wanted without advance permission. She couldn’t hook up with guys (why not guys you ask? Idk. Probably internalized misogyny. Read the fuckin’ story) and she had to tell me about it after if/when it happened, but there was no expectation that I needed to participate or watch or feel included or that I needed to also be free to sleep around on my own. I was very happy with the arrangement. Until she asked me one day:

 

“What if I slept with Abby?”

 

“I’m sorry what?”

 

“Your cousin, the dancer, Abby.”

 

“Yeah I heard you, you want to sleep with my *cousin?*”

 

“Theoretically. That’s why I’m asking you.”

 

I was replaying Gears of War for the 50th time when she asked me this. She had made it a habit to do sexy distractions sometimes when I was playing a game, or cooking, or on the phone. Walk by wearing next to nothing, or start taking her clothes off in front of me and throw them at me, etc.

 

One notable time she started giving me a hand job that escalated to a blow job while I was on the phone with my brother (she didn’t dislike him, but they definitely had a slightly… abrasive relationship).

 

I guess she was addicted to pain because I’d usually punish her for it later. That deterred her not at all.

 

I stopped playing and looked at her.

 

“What the fuck Cat?”

 

“Whaaaat?! That’s not breaking any rules!”

 

“I mean, *that specifically* is not something we talked about really… because I *never* thought of it… but like… why?”

 

“She’s hooooooot.” Cat whined. “And she’s fuuuunn.”

 

I was still thrown off by the question. It wasn’t often I’d be totally lost for words.

 

“Youuuuuu… do see how that’d be weird for me, right?”

 

“Say whaaaat? Nawwww, the only reason it would be weird is if you made it weird! Wait! Too late.” She giggled.

 

She was such a fucking bitch.

 

“Cat, I’m being dead serious. Under no circumstances would I be okay with you sleeping with Abby, or *any* of my family just so we’re clear. *That* is the new and only exception to the rule.”

 

“Who’s making these ruuuules maaan?” She mocked (I usually made that joke.)

 

“You are *not* fucking my first cousin!”

 

“What about 3rd cousins?”

 

“Shut the fuck up.”

 

I was dying because she was distracting me, so I paused the game. I knew she wouldn’t leave me alone before getting her shits and giggles.

 

Abby was my age, and a good friend. We grew up together and were close as cousins and had stayed close as adults. She’d been a professional dancer and eventually an instructor for like, her entire life. She was super chill, tolerated and even laughed at my jokes, was so easy going and generally really caring and kind. I am not going to say Cat was wrong about Abby being… either of the things she had said Abby was… but… seriously.

 

If they fucked, that’d be what I thought about every time I saw Abby, which was like every couple months at the minimum. But here’s the thing, that wasn’t really the worst part. The *actual* worst part would be Cat’s fucking jokes I’d have to listen to for the theoretical rest of my fucking life. She was a petty as fuck troll who had no depths she wouldn’t sink to for an agonizingly bad pun or a really, dirty, punchline. She was a fucking infant.. She’d do *anything* for lulz. She was ***Fucking.*** ***Shameless.***

 

Like, i could absolutely imagine the next Thanksgiving dinner, we’d be in the kitchen getting the turkey ready or something, and I one thousand percent guarantee Cat would do some shit like nudge me in the ribs and be like, “Eyyyyyyy reminds me of last Thanksgiving when I basted Abby’s turkey! Ehhhhh?? Ehhhh??? Get it babe? Baaaabe? Get it? Do you get it baaabe? Cuz you’re basting a turkey, and Abby and I totally fucked last year! *basting her turkey!* HA!”

 

Or something equally fucking intolerable.

 

She probably wouldn’t even try to keep her voice down. There was absolutely no fucking way I was putting up with that. No chance.

 

Cat exaggerated a pout, gave me doe eyes, made sad whimpering sounds. Pretty C level effort if I’m being honest. I’d seen much better when she would ask me to buy her her own personal bowl of Diablo queso at Torchy’s.

 

“Baby, pleaaaase.” She attempted to say pathetically. “I reaaaally think she’d be into it, and I’d be, sooooo grateful.” She smiled that iconic Cat smile where she knew she was really the one in control even though I was the one putting her in handcuffs every week.

 

But sometimes a man has to make a stand.

 

However, what came out of me was:

 

“Uhhhh. That’s… pretty fuckin close to home babe.”

 

“Waaaaaaaaaaaa.” She mock cried. “You haaaaaaate meeeeee! How could you do this to your girlfriend?”

 

“Yeah, you’re so neglected and deprived. There should be an ad for you next to the one for starving children in South Sudan.”

 

She scoffed dramatically and threw her hair back like a diva. Funnily enough, she had a lot of practice with that move.

 

“Fine. Guess I’ll just have to imagine what it’d be like.”

 

“You do that.” I said as I un-paused my game and went back to chainsawing Locusts.

 

She looked appalled that I could possibly even *imagine* refusing her much less **ignore her** to play a video game.

 

She stood up and began to walk away, “I’m bored, you’re boring. I think I’ll go use the rabbit (vibrator) you bought me since you’re…. *busy*.” She said the last with extra stank.

 

“Good talk.” I said without looking at her as I focused on timing my Lancer reloads *juuust right.*

 

She huffed and moved towards the bedroom door that adjoined the den in our tiny apartment.

 

“I’ll think of Abby while I do it.”

 

“Gross.” I said flatly.

 

Apparently I wasn’t reacting strongly enough to her satisfaction. She popped her head from around the bedroom door, said, “hey, babe.” And when I glanced away from the game for a second to look at her she yanked the TV power cord out, leaving me to die, and the last thing I saw was her wide-eyed crazy, open mouth smile as she began cackling and skipped away.

 

I sighed, got up, and plugged the TV back in. Sure enough, game over. The margin for error was so small in love and war. I’m sure there’s a poetic lesson or a metaphor or something in there. Somewhere.

 

“You’re a fucking bitch.” I called out.

 

“Sorry babe, I can’t hear you! I’m thinking of Abby!”

 

I hated that girl sometimes. Mostly because she knew I loved her antics and she could play me like a fiddle.

 

Maybe I stayed with her as long as i did because I don’t consciously admit my masochism includes degradation. Or because she was never boring. Probably both.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/so2lgw/my_fiance_found_the_one_girl_i_was_not_ok_with