I spoke to Mentor yesterday about Lucky Bastard.

Mentor knows the type. Knows Longmeadow too.

Mentor also knows me very well. I spent six months as his submissive. Even though he never broke my wall quite the way Lucky Bastard did, he knows me in ways that other men never have. And I am, in some ways, like him. We are hunters, bent a certain way by life's circumstances. He understands where I'm coming from a lot of the time with sex and with love. He understands my needs, how strong they can be, how I have worked very hard to control and moderate them, to be objective in my dealings with men, to not get obesses over a pretty face and a good cock.

"Well, what do you need him for? He's not paying you to be his Sex Life Manager. You're not getting any real benefit from the relationship. His wife's still getting all the benefits. Let her manage his sex life."

No truer words were spoken.

Even to Mentor, Lucky Bastard's current behavior sounds like that of a desperate man in midlife crisis, careening off into obsessive/compulsive and dangerous behavior, throwing away a freely and generously given gift.

"Worse, or just as bad as AIDS, is Hepatitis C. You get that and you're done for. And condoms aren't necessarily going to protect you from that one either."

Mentor reminded me, too, of my ability to judge a healthy person. When one is a hunter for a long time, it is easy to size someone up, listen to them, to what they want to and need to open up about. People will tell you, even indirectly, of their exploits, who they are, and what they need.

Lucky Bastard never fully understood that I chose him, not the other way around. He may have hit me like a bus, but I shook my head, picked myself up, and got the plate number of that bus. What looked like a pickup--or an indiscriminate selection--was actually very carefully calculated.

I don't just pick up stray men. I watch, look, listen. Manner of dress, intoxication, drug use, cavalier attitude about sex, boastfulness, and ego all figure in to whether or not one is suitable for an encounter. I refuse more of them than I choose.

I chose him because was quite suitable in the beginning. He has become completely unsuitable now and for the future.

I was glad I spoke to Mentor. He helped shore up my backbone, reaffirm that my instincts are right, that the risks outweigh the benefits with Lucky Bastard. That I am not a money-grubbing whore at all, that I choose carefully and with proper discretion, and that a man who is a man, who is not looking for attachments comes acorss with more than chocolate covered strawberries and pastries.

I think it really *is* enough now. I don't think there's anything Lucky Bastard can say or do that could make me take him back.

Maybe it's not wanting to lose face in Mentor's eyes. Maybe it's his caring for me, and knowing that he knows, more than anyone, about my appetites and that I can be as strong as he and control them when necessary. He also knows I tend to be as generous and strangely loving as he, and often take on too much from people who truly do not deserve it. Mentor will take alot of guff from the people he loves, but only when there is a love or obligation there that cannot be simply tossed aside. There is no love nor obligation between Lucky Bastard and myself, so why should I put myself out there to "save" him or try to help him control his out-of-control behavior. Why should I help him thru his midlife crisis if he will not have the requisite amount of respect for me?

There are other pretty little blue-eyed fish out there. Maybe not right away, and maybe, in time, I won't need them anyway.