Mistress NYC.

Yes, it’s been a long time, but I’m back at least for now and that’s all that needs to be said. Last night, I went on an off the cuff date with Lucifer (clearly a pseudonym), a guy I used to, for lack of a better term, do. Lucifer and I “dated” for approximately a month or so and stopped seeing each other because he decided to reunite with his ex-girlfriend, who he now resides with. Well, it appears that things are not all white picket fence with a little dog running around because he called me to go out with him last night.

Upon completion of dinner at my very favorite Thai place, Spice, in my very favorite part of Manhattan, Union Square, we headed over to his apartment in Brooklyn (side note: it’s strange, because all the guys I’m currently dating live there – stay tuned for future blog entitled “Why are all the cute guys in Brooklyn?”). In any case, “his apartment” was really “their apartment”, and although she wasn’t there, she was all I could see; in the curtains, in the sofa, in the shower curtain, in the movie (it was her movie). Half way thru our thrilling viewing of “V for Vendetta”, Lucifer started getting a little restless and a little fresh, and I’ll gladly admit that I was not at all offended. In fact, since a few months ago when he broke things off with me, I knew that if given the chance, I would sleep with him again. Fooling around was becoming exceptionally passionate and about an hour into it, it hit me, I was officially the mistress.

At first I pulled away as I in no way wanted to participate in a home wrecking predicament. However, as I sat back and thought about it (whilst he kissed my neck, of course), I realized how sickly appealing this situation was. In those old movies and soap operas, the mistress is always this beautiful courtesan-like goddess who was inconspicuously known as “the other woman”. It felt very erotically empowering and confidence boosting. This extremely gorgeous albeit confused man wants to break his circle of trust to potentially bed me, someone clearly more stimulating then his current beau. You might be thinking that I should instead feel offended that this man wants nothing to do with me than to have sex, but I think you fail to realize what his role is in my life at that point in time, which was sex.

This leads me to my questions. In evolutionary terms, men are known to want to spread their seed around to perpetuate their genes. Along the same evolutionary terms, women are supposed to accept sperm competition as a way of perpetuating their gene line. This would mean then that both men and women would need to copulate in order to carry on their genetic values. Why is it, then, that men are praised for their need to have sex while woman are deprecated for the same reason? Cuckoldry ensures superior genetic quality and is justification for routine sex practices in my book. What are your rules?

In case you were wondering, I didn’t sleep with Lucifer last night. I told him to think about it, and to call me on Saturday.