”“That is weird” – she chuckled. “But...I hate to burst your bubble, but I'm not your girlfriend. Because I'm not a girl. I'm a grown woman ...nd I don't use patriarchal labels. And I hate the word 'lifestyle'. It's so fucking...preppy. I'm not even sure I care for the term “polyamory”. Nobody seems to be able to agree on what the hell it means.”Damn. This woman is a walking mine field of hidden boundaries. First she tells me that I can't use the word 'relationship', despite the fact that we're. " My Dad was in agreement with my Mom on this issue. He always had me serve his guests when he had guys over to watch football. The only other woman that was ever in the house was Mom.She used to cinch it really tight too. If I was ever caught trying to loosen it my Dad would give me twelve from a hickory switch on my ass. I think he probably liked it more than he should. You'd think the school would have said something, but they were weird and thought my Dad had a hot-line to Jesus.Screw the. It was a big deal. Well we no sooner got there and my husband disappeared. He had dressed as some kind of super hero, green makeup all over his face and this costume made him look way bigger than he really was, I could hardly recognize him. I had dressed as a southern belle, a little on the slutty side. Any way the night wore on and several drinks later and finally my husband returned. Or at least I thought it was him. He walked up and took my hand without saying a word and lead me to the. I've never even . . ." I started as we reached the front door."OK, OK . . . relax Matt, just forget it OK? . . . do you want to come in for drink still?" she said."Yeah OK" I said feeling the pressure suddenly lift.Once inside I followed her into kitchen where she got a can of orange juice from the fridge and asked me what I wanted, I said water would be fine, I had a really dry mouth, I wasn't sure whether this was the effect of the drink from last night or just nerves."I'm really sorry Matt,.
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