Merry Christmas from The Mathematician

     I feel happy today!

    Not sure how to tell you…so I’ll just spill it…

     I had sex with the Mathematician…and it was great!

       He came to my apartment yesterday and brought me a Christmas gift!  My first Christmas gift this year (besides ‘Secret Santa’ at the Superstudio)! Isn’t that nice?

      He gave me a present from Victoria’s Secret.  Part of it was undies–and yeah, all ladies know that when a man gives you lingerie, he’s basically buying a gift for himself–but he also hooked me up with a flight back home to see my family for Christmas.  I had a really awful flight planned–redeye with two layovers, because it was the only thing on remotely reasonable in price–and when I mentioned it to the Mathematician, he surprised me with reservations on a much better flight!  What a darlingheart! 

       We had a snack and talked for a long time and then we were fooling around on top of my bed.  I was turned on and feeling very close to him.  I decided, what the hell–we are both adults and we can do whatever we want, and this man has treated me with nothing but respect and affection from the moment he met me.  

      “Hey,” I said.  “Would you like to have sex?  No pressure; I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.  I always enjoy what we usually do when we spend time together.”

      (I’m very up-front when I proposition men.  I don’t do silly theatrical seduction gestures unless I’m getting paid for it.  Why be coy?)

      Seeing a highly intelligent man like the Mathematician hear the question and do the decision-calculus in his brain is pretty damn entertaining.  

       He said yes.

       I think that it would be disrespectful of me to blab about the particulars to random internet strangers, but I can tell you that we had fun and the experience was very satisfactory. 

      “You’re so beautiful!” he said afterward.  And–get this–he took my glasses off of my face, cleaned them, and put them back on me.  “There you go!”

        Mathematician is so nice.  He is such a thoughtful person.  

       At the end, we were sitting on my sofa playing with Parrot (Mathematician has a big parrot.  And a dog!).  I decided to tell him about a problem I’m having at work.  After we made love I was having second thoughts about asking him for his advice, because I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable visualizing the stuff I do in my professional capacity.  But then I thought…he already knows what I do; he knows where he met me.  I don’t have to lie.  

       He knows about my secret life, and he’s interested in me anyway. 

      I told him about my problem.  

      Mathematician looked off into space and thought about it for a minute.  He’s the boss at work; he’s had experience with problematical, difficult employees.  That’s why I thought he would be good to ask for advice. 

      “No contact,” he said. Then he said some things I can’t write here. 

      Then he asked: “Have you thought about quitting at the Studio?”

      “Yes.  Often.”

      “I’m worried about the way other men might treat you there.”

     When the Surgeon made me quit at my last dungeon, he didn’t do it because he was concerned about the way other men were treating me.  

      He made me quit because he hated the idea of other men touching his stuff.  

      I went to my analyst and told her what happened with the Mathematician.  She has reservations about him–she thinks it doesn’t make sense of a man like him to be going to a dungeon in the first place; she thinks he’s repressed–but she agrees that he’s a million times healthier than the men I usually get attached to.

     “How do I turn down his money?  I can’t take it anymore.  I know it sounds arbitrary, but I feel that this is an important boundary to maintain my mental health and well-being.”  

       Tell him: I want to change our relationship.  How do you feel about that?

       And that is exactly what I’m going to say the next time I see him.  Wish me luck!

       But the Surgeon…what to do about the Surgeon…?  I am seriously worried about the man.  I think he’s finally…well, I think that the wheels are finally coming off.  

      Busy, busy week at the secret job.  My new photos are making me a lot of money.  God this work is crazy and dangerous…but it feels great to be solvent.  

      Thank God opaque black tights are still fashionable this season. They’re the only thing that can cover up the marks.  Even tattoo coverup makeup won’t do it this week:

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