If in twenty years time I’m half as happy and loved up as a couple in the Playful Pussycats, splitting a cheesecake and adjusting each other’s fetish gear, I’m doing something right. If a time comes that sex with another person is something I’m curious about, it’ll be time to talk to my partner, not ditch them and run. I don’t see why we have to expect that the ‘right person’ will get rid of any attraction to other people.

If you find someone you adore, who you want to make a life with, but you also find you want to have sex with other people, it doesn’t make much sense to me to just end the relationship. I’m inspired not to throw out the rulebook, but keep it open and have a pen in hand. I hope it’s not vanilla to say that I still don’t find the idea of having sex with anyone apart from Chris particularly appealing.īut my mind’s been opened. I’m not coming out of this experience ready to join swinging sites (although Chris did win a year’s premium membership), find people I fancy, and start hooking up with randoms every weekend. They came out stronger, more in love, and sharing a life filled with fun and genuine joy. They changed the rules, they tried something against all common advice, they did something scary and pushed through all the natural feelings of fear and jealousy and guilt. They didn’t decide that all the other bits of their relationship were pointless if monogamy wasn’t cutting it. When troubles arose and sex drives died down, they didn’t just chuck the relationship away. These are couples challenging any idea of throwaway culture. I’ve never met people who speak so honestly about love and its challenges. They talk about each other with the highest level of respect and admiration, but chat about the challenges of their relationship and their sex lives with a candour that shocks me.

There are no chaste kisses or snarky comments to cover up genuine emotion. It might be my repressed British upbringing, but I’m entirely unused to seeing such open displays of longterm love.

Hedonism party