By the 30-something in an open relationship

‘WE HAD A THREESOME; I WENT TO THE BATHROOM AND CRIED’

MONDAY

Wake up tired from the weekend; on Saturday I hooked up with a barman. We went back to his and had filthy sex. I ended up with carpet burns on my knees and back. He was really hot.

My boyfriend Ben didn’t ask where I’d been when I got home at 6am on Sunday, which annoyed me. We’ve had an open relationship for a year (and were monogamous for three years before that). He’s always been more into the non-monogamy thing than me. When he stays out, I want to know everything: who he’s been with, when, how many times. In comparison, he doesn’t ask and it makes me feel like he doesn’t care. I slept but then barely spoke to him all day and went to bed in a huff on Sunday night.

When he goes to shower this morning I check his phone. He doesn’t know I spy on him and I do feel bad about that. But I can only do this non-monogamy thing if I know he isn’t hiding anything from me. I just read the messages from other women and am relieved they’re mostly boring. He isn’t seeing anyone.

The only one that worries me is a message from a week ago. It’s an unsaved number and just says, ‘I had fun last night’ with a winky emoji. I feel good about the fact that he hasn’t replied but that emoji – the nudge-nudge innuendo hiding what was no doubt some wild experience – plays on my mind all day.

TUESDAY

Ben and I have sex in the morning. It’s early – I have to be at my desk by 8am – but we’re both really into it. I feel as though sometimes we use sex to reassure one another. He’s really attentive and I briefly wonder whether the fact that I stayed out this weekend has been playing on his mind. We have all the positions down by now so that we both orgasm quickly. I like that we’re so in tune with one another but, as we’re lying together afterwards, I realise he must have seen the carpet burns on my back. I look over a little guiltily but he seems happy enough.

The day is a blur with meetings. Ben says that he has a surprise for me but I end up working late. When I finally get home, he’s cooked dinner and booked us a trip to Paris. He does this every so often and I love his spontaneity. The evening is wonderful but I’m too tired for sex.

WEDNESDAY

The barman messages me. ‘How’re you doing? Can’t stop thinking about you’, followed by a winky emoji. I reply with a wink but nothing else. I haven’t decided if I want to see him again. Ben and I have boundaries – we’re allowed to sleep with other people but can’t bring them to our flat. We can go on dates but we need to be clear with the other people that we’re in a primary relationship with someone else. When Ben first floated the idea I was pretty offended. I broke up with him, but after a few weeks realised that the idea of him having sex with other people didn’t bother me that much – it didn’t mean I loved him less – and that I was also craving some freedom. Neither of us want children so why were we holding on to monogamy so tightly?

We got back together and even tried having a threesome with another woman (I would consider myself ‘heteroflexible’ in that I’m mainly attracted to men but have had sexual experiences with women). It was a disaster. I hated seeing him with someone else; it’s one thing to know it’s happening and another to be made to watch. At one point I went to the bathroom and cried, covering my face with a towel to muffle the sound. I pressed my face to the cool tile wall so that I didn’t look so red and blotchy, but by the time I got back to the bedroom the woman was gone. Ben said he wasn’t into it either. We didn’t really speak about it afterwards so I don’t know whether he called time on it because he knew I wasn’t comfortable.

I could see the barman again, but at the moment I don’t think I have the time to devote to dates. I decide to keep him simmering away in case I feel like some fun sex after a night out.

THURSDAY

I leave work on time but Ben is nowhere to be seen. He works in a creative industry so his hours are irregular. I messaged earlier to say I’d be home tonight but he hasn’t been online all afternoon. I’m annoyed that we can’t make the most of a rare weekday evening together.

I wonder whether he’s with another woman. I drink half a bottle of white wine in front of the TV and the thought becomes like a splinter in my mind. I think back to that winky emoji from the no-name woman. I message him again asking if he’ll be home tonight. I see he’s been