What It’s Really Like Between the Sheets with a Rich, Older Man: Part 2

After I decided to break up with my older lover, Patrick, over the phone, he imme­di­ately called one of my best girl­friends for sym­pa­thy. “Not a big deal,” you say? It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, except he then told her in very vivid terms how much he liked my body and why. And I’m not talk­ing just breasts either—he went into intri­cate detail about exactly which parts of my body he adored when we had sex.

Need­less to say, my dear friend Car­olyn was, of course, hor­ri­fied, dis­gusted even. She told him that she wasn’t inter­ested in hear­ing that kind of infor­ma­tion. She called me the next day to tell me about the con­ver­sa­tion and sug­gested that per­haps Patrick was a sex addict.

The thought of that fright­ened me. I had never been the type of woman to be attracted to any addic­tive behav­iors. My reac­tion would always be to run away from that.

When I returned to Chicago, Patrick was wait­ing for me near the bag­gage claim. He had a very apolo­getic look on his face and big bou­quet of flow­ers in his hands. He told me that he would like to take me out for din­ner and then give me a lift home. I accepted. To be hon­est, out­side of the sex issue, I had missed him quite a bit.

At din­ner, I explained to him that I was a work­ing woman with a seri­ous career. I could not, at least dur­ing the week, con­sis­tently bow to all his appetites—meaning the din­ner and drinks every night, club­bing, meet­ing his high-flying friends, and then falling into bed ready to be pas­sion­ate and exper­i­men­tal at a moment’s notice. I told him that this was my con­di­tion for con­tin­u­ing our rela­tion­ship. He agreed. He told me that he was head over heels in love with me and would do any­thing to keep me around.

For a period of time, he seemed much more con­sid­er­ate, but a part of me always felt like there was a third per­son in our relationship—and her name was “sex.”