Straight No Chaser

Concubines

teresa has finally given up on being ethan's one-and-only. now she's saying she wants to be his mistress, that he can stay married to gwen but that she still needs his dick on the regular, apparently. stupid whore. not as stupid, though, as ethan, who keeps turning her down. he knows he loves her more, that his marriage to gwen is piled entirely on his holier-than-thou bullshit. he's not going to back down. teresa's cute, though; she keeps offering.

in another depressing example of life imitating "passions," sean is extending almost exactly the same offer, and means it. his ideal scenario: he keeps treesje, i keep marcus; he and i enjoy each other occasionally. no one else is ever the wiser. no, i said, and no, and no again, and i can't figure out what sort of blockage is stopping him from getting the message, but there's something there, some fundamental problem with his comprehension. i even tried to put it in terms he'd understand, since he just wouldn't accept the thing about my not condoning infidelity. i'm one of those people where, i can't separate the physical from the emotional, i told him. i'd never want to wind up in a position where i felt invested in you. i don't trust you that way. to which he replied--no, wait, he didn't. didn't say a word, just kept stirring his smoothie.

other stuff happened today, too. yesterday, rather. but it's late; i'll have to save it for tomorrow.

we were watching old videos and someone said marcus looks like rakim; everyone else adamantly agreed. no he doesn't, i said, and, thank god. no depth of shadowing, no skull cap and no giant pair of ray bans could possibly hide rakim's scruffiness. marcus is gorgeous in the dark. he's coming by tomorrow, and i've got to decide whether i want to show him the rape poem.