Lydia
“Where’s he off to?” I asked as Patrick left the room. Is he okay? He didn’t talk to Jon for long, and I just didn’t want him to be all alone.
The other man shrugged. “Who knows, just let him be, dove. He might need space right now.”
I wouldn’t tell Jon, but I had begun to pick up on the subtle things he did when he was hiding something. The slight tone shift in his voice to be more authoritative, the way he effortlessly deflected to another topic, or the way he would either force you to look him in the eye to acknowledge what he said versus the looking away to act nonchalant. He knew exactly what Patrick was going off to do, even if he wouldn’t admit that to me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, scrutinizing his movements and waiting to see if his phone would go off. It didn’t. Without a word, I stood up and walked to his side of the couch. I stood in front of Jon with my hands on my hips and my chest pushed out. I couldn’t keep up a bad-cop shtick to get him to cave, I knew that without even trying, but I wouldn’t put it past him to give in if I went for sexy-cop.
“Why does no one tell me anything?” I asked, shifting my weight and letting the whine creep into my voice as I played with my necklace, pulling it from one side of the chain to the other. “It’s like no one in this house even likes me sometimes.”
Jon grabbed me by the waist and pulled me closer to him, pushing up my shirt while I stood there and kissing each side of my hips. “No one likes you?” he asked huskily. “Is that really what you think, dove?”
I nodded and raked my fingers through his hair, lightly dragging my nails over his ears and scalp while his mouth moved lower. “No,” I admitted. “I love you…”
He laughed and kissed the dip of my navel. “I love you too.” He looked up at me and I blushed at the glimmer in his eyes. “Here, sit down for a minute.”
I followed his urging and sat carefully on his lap, he wasn’t having it and instead pulled me closer and sat back in his seat. This is really a thing now, I thought happily, it’s completely real and we have no where else to go. The media storm had blown over, our lives could go to whatever the new normal was now. And I’d come out the other side not having to pick between them, I really couldn’t have done too much better unless I’d come out with a job still. Well, I’ll talk them about that later. Jon said he picked up my mail, which should have the package from the agent I was talking with about my blog and publishing, but I needed their permission first.
I had to push the who agent thing out of my mind for now, it wasn’t even a done deal and there was no guarantee that either of them would be okay with the situation. I didn’t even have my first draft completed yet, it was a whole world away from me.
“Lydia,” Jon murmured, watching me intently. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just happy about this, that’s all,” I told him shaking my head and smiling. “What about you? You look a little pale…” Reaching out, I cupped his cheek as my brow furrowed. He looked almost nervous. I’d never seen him like this, he was always confident.
He clearly forced a smile and it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course.” He rubbed his hand up and down my bare thigh, the cool metal of his ring brushed over my skin and raised goosebumps. “Can I ask you for something?”
I laughed and kissed his cheek, resting my forehead against his. “You know the answer to that.”
“Promise me you’ll still love me later.” He was so quiet and he sounded uncertain of himself, I twisted in his lap, trying to get a better look at him.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked incredulously. “What’s up with you lately? I thought I was the emotional one here.” I strived to be light hearted but it occurred to me only after the words left my mouth that it probably sounded pretty rude.
To Jon’s credit, he laughed. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I happen to be going through a lot right now.”
What a dumb question. Of course, he was going through a lot. We all were. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I don’t know, sometimes things don’t seem to faze you. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you so worried before.”
“You know what will assuage my worry?”
“What?”
“Answering my question.”
I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Right, I’m suddenly going to change my mind and kick you to the curb. Yes, I will still love you.” Why would you even think otherwise?
A full megawatt smile broke across his face and he hugged me tighter. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
I rolled my eyes again and laughed when he started kissing his way up my shoulder, brushing my hair out of the way and grazing his teeth against my throat. I felt my phone go off from the other side of the couch and turned to it. Maybe Allie’s finally returning my texts again.
“You should check that,” Jon said, giving me a light push.
I was disappointed that he stopped and completely pulled away, taking his warmth with him. I just wanted to be affectionate ninety-nine percent of the time, anywhere, constantly. I could remember practically gagging at public affection, now I was pretty sure that when people saw us all over each other on the street that we made them gag.
Smirking to myself I crawled back to the other end of the couch and checked my phone. Weird, why is Pat texting me?
9:03PM Pat XOXO
I need to steal you away for a minute. I’m in the bedroom.
“Who is it?”
I glanced up and caught Jon watching me. “Pat, he asked me to go to the bedroom.” Jon didn’t say anything but there was something about his grin that made me nervous. “What are you two up to?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Oh, we have to be up to something?”
I stood up and tossed the throw cushion at his smug face. “Yes, I’m wise to you guys, even if you don’t think so.”
Jon snickered and waited until I was walking past him to move, reaching out and pinching my butt cheek on the way by. I squealed and slapped his hand away, grinning to myself as I felt him grab at my hand and squeeze it reassuringly.
Wandering down the hall towards the master bedroom made me feel like I was back in Aleksy’s home. I wonder if Pat noticed that his tendency to decorate with blue and gold was almost the exact same colour palette his dad used. There wasn’t the same amount of religious iconography though, if any at all here. I shouldn’t redecorate, he might not even realize the change, but I can’t bank on that.
I stopped at the double doors to Patrick’s room and paused as I reached for the handle; it was a little weird that Jon hadn’t come with me, but it was also weird that Pat was cryptically calling me to the bedroom. I pushed open the door and stepped into the darkened room, the French doors across from the fireplace were open and the gauzy curtains fluttering softly. Grabbing the black robe off the chair I shrugged it on and slowly wandered over to the balcony.
Patrick was sitting on the bench seat, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs, and gazing out over the city. The breeze had picked up a bit and mused his hair, but he didn’t seem phased by the chill.
“Pat?” I wrapped myself tighter in the warm woolly wrap. “What are you doing out here in the cold?”
He jumped at the sound of my voice and quickly got up, smoothing out the front of his shirt as he came over to me. “I just needed some air,” he answered after giving me a quick kiss. He looked down and seemed to realize I was wearing his robe. “Why do my things always look better on you?” he teased.
Grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood up on my toes, urging him to meet me halfway here in another kiss. “Law of physics; I’m smaller and cuter, therefore, everything has to look better on me.”
He smirked and brushed a hand through my hair while the other found the small of my back and pulled me closer to his body. “Ah, and here I thought it was the tits that really complemented any look.”
I huffed and pretended to pull away, fighting his embrace but he wasn’t having it. Instead he just tightened his grip and leaned down to kiss me, cupping my cheek and encouraging me to lean into him. I barely even noticed my robe falling open until he was pressing himself to me and I could feel his jeans against my bare thighs.
Kissing after Chinese food wasn’t the most romantic of kisses, but I could definitely admit that it wasn’t the worst either. Especially with him.
“Thank you for coming with me to Poland,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over my lower lip as he pulled away. “And for meeting Aleksy, you didn’t have to but I was glad you could talk to him, even if it was just the once.”
Oh, Patrick… His amber eyes were heavy, I cupped his face between my hands and refused to look away. I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m here for you when you need me.”
“I know, you’re always there.” His voice came out thick and strained. “Dia, I love you so much sweetheart. I wish I could go back and fix things, do everything right the first time, but I can’t—”
“But you don’t need to,” I interrupted. “Patrick, look at me, don’t look away. There’s nothing to fix between us, you should know that by now.” I finally got him to look at me again; there was a scared almost lost look in his eyes that worried me. “You changed when I needed you to, and I gave you the leeway that I thought you deserved when you didn’t tell me the whole truth. I made the choice to stay, you have to stop framing it like I’m a victim of something.”
“You didn’t choose to have your public perception ruined,” he countered. “And if I had just pulled my head out of my ass and not been so excited to rub it in Jon’s face that we were together, then I could have done the right thing and told you not to tell everyone. But I didn’t, and I just watched everything fall into place.”
“Oh. My. God. How awful,” I complained exaggeratedly. “Seriously, a bunch of old business tycoons think I’m a slut and I now I get to stay home all day and let my boyfriends, plural, pay my bills? What a terrible life.”
Patrick started to laugh, his shoulders trembled as he tried to hide it at first but he soon gave in and covered his face while laughing loudly. My stomach fluttered with butterflies and I smiled to myself, watching him take a step back and eye me with an amused smirk.
“Should I be worried that you arranged this whole thing?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Oh, for sure.” I giggled and reached for his hands, threading our fingers together while we stood there.
His expression softened and he took a step forward, pulling one hand away and reaching behind him. “I really want it to be our entire lives that I can take care of you, no matter what happens, I want to be there with you the way you’ve been here for me.” He sunk down on to his knee and I clamped my hands over my mouth, my eyes immediately watering. “Lydia Morrison, will you marry me?”
I was blinded by the sudden tears but nodded excitedly. I wiped at my eyes, fighting to see the ring in his hand. It was beautiful; a small round diamond in the centre was surrounded by a dozen or more smaller pear-shaped stones, making the design look like a lotus flower. I held out my hand excitedly and felt him slide the cool band over my finger.
As Pat made to stand up, I flung my arms over his shoulders and he lifted me with him, holding me bone-crushingly happy hug.
“I love you,” I whispered, sobbing. I kept repeating it, petting his hair and hiding my face in the crook of his neck.
Suddenly I understood what Jon had been asking me earlier and I vowed to myself that this wouldn’t change anything. Patrick could do exactly what he wanted; he and I would publicly be a couple, Jon would always be there, but not as visible and that was okay. Before I could say anything more I felt Pat move and glanced up to see him taking me back into the bedroom. He dropped me on my feet and in a blur of motion my robe was stripped away, followed quickly by my tank top and his t-shirt.
I was frantically tugging at his clothes, desperate to get his pants off and get him inside me. I wanted to go back to the way it was, to have them stealing me away multiple times a day for a romp, to feel that same thrill of knowing he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself anymore.
“On the bed,” he ordered harshly. “Now.”
Oh, yes Sir! I could only move so fast but my excitement seemed to make me quicker. I settled at the head of the bed and glanced down at my shorts. “Should I take my pants off, Master?” I called to him across the room while he poked through a cabinet.
“Leave them on and lie down,” he instructed, not looking up. “Hold the head board and don’t let go.”
I grinned and slid down the silky sheet before reaching up and grabbing a hold of the top of the padded headboard. Is he going to tie me to it? Looking up at it, I wasn’t sure how he could manage that one, there wasn’t anywhere to tie something.
The bed shifted and I looked over to Pat, watching him come across the bed to me with his hands full. He had a length of pink rope, a small box, a paddle, and a few more items I couldn’t quite see.
“Hold still,” he said as he set everything down and unwound the rope.
I watched in silence while he felt behind the headboard for something, once he found it, he wound the rope through it and brought it back down, working on binding my wrists together. There must be a hook or something back there, I thought. Once my wrists were secured I gave them a light tug – I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I missed you tying me up,” I teased him. “I needed my pervert boyfriend to come back out for a bit.”
He grinned and leaned down, sliding his hand up and down my throat in long smooth strokes, forcing me to tilt my head back. With the underside of my jaw exposed, he kissed the sensitive spot, taking his time and making my heart pound. Slowly, he made his way up to my ear. “Perverted fiancé,” he corrected. “And eventually husband, Mrs. Rosing.”
I shivered at the husky sound of his voice and the sensation of his lips brushing against my ear. He was too good at this, and I was tied down, I couldn’t even try to do anything half as sexy.
Sitting back on his haunches, he opened the small flat box to retrieve my collar. I couldn’t even remember the last time I wore that. He secured the hammered metal around my neck, and held the heart shaped lock up to my mouth to kiss it first. The soft click of the lock moving into place made me close me eyes and take in a shaky breath.
Patrick moved again, his weight made the mattress shift under me and when I opened my eyes he was slowly making his way down my body, pausing to kiss and suck my nipples into his mouth. I moaned and arched my back, feeling the electricity from his touch spread across my chest. I tugged at my restraints and squirmed when he flicked the hardened peaks, causing me to whimper.
“I like the way you sound,” Patrick murmured. “Like music and it just makes me harder.”
My cheeks flushed and I closed my eyes, trying not to laugh or get bratty with him, I just wanted him to keep going and he was being so slow! Something closed on my nipple suddenly and I yelped, jolting in shock as I tried to look at what he did. Clothespins. The asshole had clipped my tits with wooden clothespins.
“You’re an asshole.”
Patrick laughed and seized my jaw in his grip, forcing me to hold still as he kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth crudely. I was almost dizzy when he finally pulled away again, his eyes were hard and fiery as he glared down at me.
“Tell me you’re sorry,” he ordered darkly. “Properly, Lydia.”
“I’m sorry, Master.” The words were barely a whisper on my lips. “I’ll be a good girl.”
“Good.” He dragged his nails down my torso to emphasize his words and I shivered unintentionally. “I’m gonna go get Jon, and you can wait here.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to call him out on the fact that I couldn’t go anywhere anyway but I managed some restraint, though my glare earned a smirk. “Oh, but before I forget…” He trailed off and retrieved a small vibrator from the handful of toys he had brought over. “I wouldn’t want you to be bored.”
The U-shaped toy was for both g-spot and clit stimulation and already I knew I had a long night ahead of me. Patrick didn’t remove my shorts, instead, he just slipped his hand inside and maneuvered the toy blindly. The gentle and smooth silicone glided into place and my breath caught in my throat; the pressure was more than I was anticipating and the guys knew that was my weakness.
To my relief, he didn’t turn the toy on, just got off the bed while I willed my heart to slow down to normal. Pausing in the doorway though, Patrick turned and held up a small black rectangle.
“We’ll only be a minute, kitten.” And with that, he turned the vibrator on.
I jolted against the rope and clenched my thighs together, that almost made it worse. He’d turned it on to max and with no warning, no warmup it was like waking up out of a dead sleep ready to come. I gritted my teeth and pushed my shoulders into the mattress, trying to hold myself still and focus on anything, anything, other than the torturously sweet vibrations sending me closer to my finish.
Don’t scream, don’t scream! The mantra kept repeating in my head and I tried to convince myself that it was like I was back home masturbating like normal, but even then I was never completely quiet. But Patrick had left the doors open and they were only a little ways down the hall; I didn’t want them to hear me whimpering and gasping alone.
Something changed with the vibrations that finally pushed me over the edge and made me moan wantonly, the constant uninterrupted buzz became a pattern, like morse code. The worst setting on any vibrator, but the break in consistency did it for me and I came, moaning with my nails digging into my palms and feeling my shorts become damp. I was blinded through it, but as I came back to, I stared up at the top of the canopy bed and cried out in surprise. He changed it back and now it was too much.
Laughter and foot steps caught my attention, I tried to hold still, tried to force the little jitters my body had to go away and to unclench my teeth before they came in the room but I was stuck. Patrick came in first, followed by Jon and the two of them looked pleased. Both were shirtless now, and Pat was quick to start removing his jeans. We might not have talked about it outloud, but them staying even partially dressed while we had sex was another layer to our games, a way of distinguishing that I was submissive and “lower” than they were. Patrick would often strip down completely during sex if he wasn’t in Dom mode, with Jon, it was a rarity.
“What do you have?” Jon asked as he loosened my bindings.
“A paddle and a belt, figured hand and paddle first to warm her up, and that other thing we talked about.”
Other thing? Jon got me loose and pulled me over to his side of the bed so I was kneeling in front of him and facing Pat, the vibrator was still going and I doubled over with a gasp. Daddy grabbed me by the hair and jerked me back into a kneeling position. “
“How do you feel about being filmed, baby girl?” he asked, pressing his lips to my temple as he whispered. “Something just for us.”
Master held up a small, sleek silver camera. It was old, something I would have used to take pictures of myself in the mirror back in high school, but that meant that it probably didn’t have internet capabilities and therefore couldn’t be leaked. The tremors running through my abdomen increased and I gasped, arching my back and squeezing my eyes shut while I came again.
Mercifully, he slowed the vibrations down to almost nothing, letting me regain the ability to think again. Gazing up at Daddy, at his cool blue eyes, and seeing the excitement written on both of their faces made me nod.
A quiet beep alerted me to the camera being turned on and a moment later I was being manhandled on the bed; forced to lie face down with arms above my head as if I was praying. I could feel them moving around the bed, and the focus of the camera as if it was another eye watching me.
“Count for Daddy,” my Master ordered.
As soon as he said it I cried out at the impact of the paddle hitting my ass. “One,” I gasped out shakily.
This time Master jerked me up by my hair, forcing me to look at him despite my training not to. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
They both snickered and let me fall back into place, quickly averting my eyes. The more hits, the more the vibrator still inside me jostled and brought me closer again. When he finally set the paddle down for a minute, he groped between my legs, feeling the crotch of my shorts. My face burned with embarrassment, knowing that he would find out how wet I was.
“You’re always so wet,” he taunted, massaging the wet spot on my pants. “Right from the first day. Do you remember what I told you?”
Ohmigod. Of course, I remembered, I wasn’t inclined to forget that. “That I was easy,” I whispered.
“What else?”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and forced myself to continue, “That I was a fucking slut.” You’re a fucking slut, Miss Morrison. I could still remember the look on Patrick’s face when he was watching Jon feel up and I stripped for them.
“Say that louder for the camera, kitten.”
I glanced up at the sound of my Master’s voice and nodded, staring intently at the lens. “I’m a fucking slut, Master.”
Daddy pushed me back down and yanked my shorts off, I heard the faint tear but I knew they would take care of it later for me. I was so exposed in the room; bent over with my ass being presented just so they could spank me was already enough to get me going but added to the fact that I could now watch this happen later from their point of view was downright thrilling.
The two of them swapped places and Master took ahold of the belt, testing it in his palm and making me fidget nervously. Daddy and I had already done this, but that didn’t change the fact that this was a serious instrument that was definitely going to hurt like hell.
“Kiss it good,” Matser instructed, holding the folded belt in front of me. “Lick it if you can.”
If I can. Sure. As if that was actually a request and not an instruction. I kissed the soft, dark brown leather and gave it a slow, long swipe with my tongue. I’d done enough with the impact play to know now why he wanted me to do that – a wet strike would hurt more and leave a lasting impression.
His hands rubbed my lower back and over each ass cheek slowly and deliberately, I dug my nails into the duvet, willing myself not to react to what I already knew was coming. The sudden bite ad sting of the belt made me scream, that just couldn’t be helped, but I didn’t move my hands to try and block the blow and that was important.
“Good girl,” Daddy soothed, petting my hair. “Keep counting for us, I want to be able to hear you.”
“O-one,” I choked out, trying not to cry. Why did this make me feel so good but bring out this emotional side I couldn’t hold back? I knew they both didn’t mind the tears, but I didn’t think it was sexy.
Master struck again and I continued my count, ignoring the flood of tears and just letting myself enjoy the wave of pleasure that came from the heat of the blow. Daddy paused him to unzip his pants and pull his cock, encouraging me to jerk him off and give the tip a kiss before they continued.
I had experienced two types of sub-space with them before; a mindless zombie state where everything felt good and I was just a big melted puddle, only achieved in Poland when they fucked me at the same time, and a more subdued, hazy state of willingness. The first one had been great, but I could barely remember what had happened and they told me I “was somewhere else”, the second one was more common and I could feel myself slipping into it then.
There was nothing I was going to deny them, I was in my own little paradise where pain didn’t really exist anymore and I wasn’t going to deny them anything. I had to focus on things to really see them and put effort into hearing my Master speak to me. Looking up at Daddy, I knew he could see me, even if I couldn’t tell him out loud where I was mentally, I knew he would figure it out.
He smiled and stroked my cheek while I played with his cock, barely registering that my Master had just hit me with the belt again.
“She’s gone,” he told the other man with a chuckle. “You should put the belt away so we don’t hurt her.”
Aww. I pouted and rolled onto my back, trying to look cute. Talking was hard like this, it always was. “Please,” I begged hoarsely. “Please, Master?”
He leaned down over top of me and kissed me hard, crushing his mouth to mine. “No,” he said, pulling away. “Sit up for us, kitten, come on.”
I let them pull me into whatever position they wanted, noticing the discarded clothespins on the bed and vaguely wondering when they had come off and how I hadn’t even noticed them go. Master got me on my hands and knees in front of him while he knelt behind me, his cock sliding along my slit teasingly. Daddy worked his way closer until his cock was right in front of me at perfect mouth level. We’d done this position so many times, but I couldn’t remember ever doing it in a bed, much less one of theirs.
Daddy passed the camera off to the other man and I took his cock in my mouth when he pulled me forward, sinking both hands into my hair and groaning as I sucked him hard. Second later, and Master joined him with a long moan, sinking completely into my pussy and making my eyes roll back. They fucked me in sync, growling and rutting like it was all they had ever wanted, and honestly I was right there with them. Feeling his cock stretch me completely, almost to the point where it was too much, and having him bottom out on each thrust, just barely kissing my cervix was heaven.
I was drooling around Daddy’s cock, he was fucking my face while the other man pulled me back, they were fighting to maintain their pleasure. My toes curled and I moaned around his length, feeling my pussy tighten and knowing that I was almost there. Master’s fingers dug into my hip and he panted, fucking me faster.
He came first, pushing into me hard and groaning while he held me to him. Daddy pumped into my mouth faster as he pulled out of my used pussy. He took the camera back, grinning while he filmed me choking on his cock and staring up with watery eyes. Master placed his hand on the back of my neck and helped him. I could see them both looking down at me with this mix of desire and love that made my head swim.
Suddenly Daddy gasped and held me to him, coming with a long moan. Time held still for a minute before he urgently pulled me off his cock, becoming too sensitive to keep me there for too long, but while I expected them to cuddle up on either side of me, Patrick forced me to lie back on the bed and spread my legs.
“Daddy promised to clean you up for our little move, kitten. Don’t move.” He tapped me on the nose and came up to sit behind me so that my head was in his lap.
Jon stood at the end of the bed, watching us while he undid his pants and climbed up towards us. I spread my legs wider, smiling to myself as I reached down to feel my wet folds. Patrick’s cum was all over me by now; my thighs, my pussy, dripping down my slit.
“You want to taste my pussy, Daddy?” I asked, spreading myself open for him.
“I want to taste your pretty pink cunt,” he corrected, giving me a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Why don’t you hold the camera, baby, let’s see how you do in control.”
Control… Patrick gave me the camera and my hand shook lightly as I watched Jon bend down in the LCD screen, bringing his mouth to my pussy. It was almost like it was happening to someone else, but it was me, oh god it was definitely me. I writhed under his tongue, moaning shamelessly as he licked and kissed every possible inch of my sex. Patrick kneaded my tits, massaging them and whispering in my ear that he wanted his bride to walk down the aisle filled with his come, that he wanted Daddy to taste me after. I cried out and clutched Jon’s hair, grinding myself on his mouth and watching him wrap his arms up under my thighs, bringing me closer.
Slowly we started to come back to, cuddling in a little pile on the bed and dozing off here and there. I had no idea how many times we had sex, how many times one them came awake in the night and we started all over again, I know at some point I was just too sore and Jon couldn’t even finish for a third time.
And the bedroom was absolutely a wreck, toys and clothing and different items were strewn across the floor, a tripod for the camera had been knocked over and at some point I had tied Jon to the bed with my shirts – a fact I only knew from watching the footage later. He had passed out first; face down with his head at the foot of the bed and snoring loudly.
I leaned back against Patrick and giggled as he tickled my stomach. I laid my hand over his and admired my ring, watching it catch the light beautifully. “I love you,” I told him, leaning back to kiss his jaw. It was a bit awkward since I was half laying on him with my back against his chest. “This was a really good night.”
“You know it was good when your balls hurt just a bit,” he mumbled, shifting under me in discomfort.
I laughed and pulled the blankets up around us, watching as Jon grumbled in his sleep and tugged at it in annoyance. “No, I really mean it Pat, I love you.”
He kissed my cheek and slid us down into a better position on our sides, spooning. “I love you too,” he promised. “I was thinking, not right now, but maybe sometime soon you could stop taking your birth control. Maybe in the New Year, then we could do a spring wedding”
Birth control. Ohmigod – fuck! We weren’t having sex in the Bahamas, I hadn’t needed to worry about birth control so I just…didn’t. We’d had sex and gone back to the States, and then we spent three weeks in Poland having sex, I hadn’t given it a second thought. Ohmigod, how could I be this stupid?