Thoughts About Alex: The New Woman in My Husband’s Life

A woman stares directly into the camera, with her fingers obstructing the view. We see her eyes, and her lips. The filter is grainy.
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I recently wrote an article for Well + Good on handling fear and jealousy in non-monogamy. Those of you who have been with me for a while now know that, despite my greater desires, I am not exempt from these complex emotions

It’s always easy sharing our highlight reels – the exciting experiences – or talking about hardships in retrospect, with a post-struggle, enlightened POV. Don’t get me wrong, those stories have value, but I’ve been brainstorming ways to map out my process in a real-time format so you can see how I navigate touchy territory. 

Although I’d love to have a podcast where I audibly share these overcomings with you (hold tight, it’s on its way), for now, I want to give you a peek into the next best thing: my private journal. 

The entries I’m about to share with you highlight my brain’s way of navigating negative blocks so I can indulge in the positive experience at hand. 

For a better understanding, here’s a bit of backstory:

James and I have a friend named Alex. We met her back in 2016 at a mutual friend’s party. If I had to sum Alex up in a few words, it would be this:

A ray of sunshine personified!

Unfortunately, since our meeting, elements such as time and distance (aka, life!) have barred us from pursuing that friendship thoroughly. 

Fast forward to February of this year…

Before knowing we’d be returning to the US, James and I were planning a trip to visit our mutual friend. Because they live but a few hours away from Alex, James suggested we reach out to her to plan a catchup while we’d be in town. 

My response: 

“Absolutely…but know that this is probs gonna turn into something more than a visit…I have the feeling she could like us, and I know she loves sex.”

(for those of you wondering, yes, I actually said “probs”).

James gave a disbelieving grin and said, “Nah, I don’t think so…”

Three texts later, Alex had opened the door! She told James that she’d love to experience a sex club with us during our stay. James was shocked – albeit pleasantly – and inquired about my initial suspicion: “How did you know?”

All I did was shrug and say, “I had a feeling about her.”

Truth is, Alex and I had connected virtually over the years. My sex blog intrigued her; her Only Fans career sparked my curiosity. We’d send the occasional voice note, updating the other on our artistic pursuits relating to pleasure. It was like having a long-distance safe space for intimate ponderings and creative conspiring. So, when James asked to reach out to her, I knew their compatible sexual energies and desirous inclinations would cause an inevitable chemical reaction…

Which brings me to my journal. 

James and Alex have since become long-distance sex friends. Together, the three of us drew up the blueprints of their relationship and my involvement (aka lack thereof), and the rest is history.

Below you will find two raw journal entries written by me about this new sex-friendship. Their contents are simply my way of metabolizing certain interactions and feelings that arose as a result. 

It is a journey, friends, so buckle up…

February 24, 2023

A man sits on the edge of a bed - green blanket, white pillows and yellow headboard. He has a white tank top on, dark pants and suspenders. He holds a black phone to his ear; expression stoic.
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It’s noonish here. James is in Cannes for the week, and I’m home alone in our apartment. Before he left, we spoke about the possibility of him virtually hooking-up with Alex while he’s away. I’m writing this because it happened; James called me a couple hours ago to share…

He told me he woke up around 5am this morning and had trouble falling back to sleep. He noticed an unread message from Alex at the time and responded. That’s where it began.

Alex had been watching a movie with her friend and decided to secretly text James. I think she liked the idea of her unsuspecting friend – the secrecy of the interaction. She started sending James “material” to ease his sleeplessness: photos and sexts. 

As he recounted this to me, I felt a pang in my chest. 

“If he was horny, why didn’t he call me?” I thought.

I exhaled, keeping this to myself as he spoke.

Eventually, James had to get off the phone, but told me he’d make himself available if I needed to speak about it. As usual, he was loving and kind and more concerned about my well being than anything else.

Looking back at that conversation, I realize the pang was purely a recall; my brain was pulling rehearsed emotional responses that my past, jealous self would have clung to. When I recognized this, the discomfort subsided, and I was left in a space of wonder:

How does this make me feel?

When James engages with other women, we are usually in close proximity and can speak shortly after in person. This is an interesting experiment for me because I don’t have the bonding mechanism that’s usually available to me: affection or sex.

So, I’m sitting here, as I write this, analyzing myself, and I’m happy to say that I do feel at ease.

When the bad thoughts come forward, I take a mental step back to observe how much weight they really carry. Then, I try to think about his experience, detach from that negative emotion, and I find I’m usually overcome with desire and joy.

What this tells me is that the initial pang is a muscle memory. In other words, my unconscious receives information and pulls the most familiar reaction it has in its records: jealousy. Luckily, I’ve been in this for a while and recognize that jealousy is my knee-jerk reaction, and is rarely indicative of my true feelings, which are simple:

I am happy for them. I’m excited that James is communicating with someone I know and am fond of; someone I trust and who has our relationship’s best interest at heart.

So, I give my body permission to have its initial reaction because it is followed by self-reflection: 

Who am I and who do I want to be in these situations – in this lifestyle? 

So I write this as a projection for myself:

Future Quean Mo will no longer have negative, involuntary reactions. She understands that the conversations James and I have, and the boundaries we put in place, are sturdy and will safeguard our relationship. Future Quean Mo also knows that trial and error are a part of this, and when errors happen, James and I will communicate and recalibrate.

Future Quean Mo isn’t far away. I can feel that I’m transitioning into a more peaceful mindset; the mindset that is free from monogamous conditioning and heterotypical restrictions. 

By giving myself permission to have the automatic reaction, but then follow it up with compassion and self-analysis, I am bridging the gap between present me and the Quean Mo who lives beneath all the limiting beliefs.

I want this. It turns me on. It makes me feel alive and empowered. It deepens my love and appreciation for James and our relationship. It proves that friendship doesn’t require restrictions from desire and lust. It reminds me that women are not threats, and that friendship is powerful.

Even if I’m not ready for the details this second – I’m still drinking my coffee, and need time to wake up (yes, even at noon!)– I know the moment I’m ready, it will bring him and I closer. 

I hope they both had fun.

March 13, 2023

A woman lies on her bed - green blankets - with a towel on her head. She is looking upward at her cell phone. Her expression is undeterminable.
Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels

NOTE: When this began, the three of us agreed to total transparency. Viewing conversations between James and Alex (including videos and photos) was consented to by all involved, previous to this journal entry.

James and I are on a little road trip this week so he can say goodbye to his friends and family before our move to the US. About an hour into our trip, I realized I forgot my phone. We were too far to go back, so I sucked it up. I messaged some friends to let them know I’d forgotten my phone and to message me at James’ number if needed, and decided that the next several days would be phoneless and peaceful…

The trouble is, I have to work and not all places we’re staying have a Wi-Fi connection. Today, James had plans to go out with his brother and nephew while I stayed behind to work, so he gave me his phone to connect to his data.  I took this time to check if my friends responded to my message and that’s when I saw his conversation with her…

I knew if I clicked on it, I’d see and read things; naughty things. A part of me felt afraid, the other part, invigorated.

I followed the invigoration.

I scrolled through, witnessing their graphic verbal exchanges, followed by intimate images and videos that I was too afraid to play. As I scrolled, I felt a mix of things. The first thing was increasing arousal. The more I read and saw, the more I needed to read and see. The second was this underlying pulse of jealousy. I realized that I started looking at the dates his messages were sent, then looked at a calendar to see where I would’ve been at that time – was I with him?

I found myself trying to reinforce my jealousy. It started twisting in me, in a negative way. So, I put the phone down, sat back, closed my eyes and breathed…

Was my anger more powerful than my arousal?

Did my anger carry a stronger message than my pleasure?

The resounding answer was no

My need to reinforce the negative was a reflex – something that lived in me from the past, and I wanted it gone. So, I started over.

In any context, I know my default setting is paranoia. It’s an element of myself I’m trying to heal, and this journey has been hugely beneficial because the conditions make it impossible to ignore. When my system feels threatened, that feeling is blunt, instant, and impactful, meaning, I have to deal with it immediately, to not run the risk of it festering and causing greater issues.

Knowing this, I reopened the conversation with a new mindset: I reminded myself that this is exciting; to read, see and hear the contents of their virtual fling is something I crave, and to give it a chance. Going back in, I focused on the context of the conversation objectively, rather than injecting my egocentricities.

I must say, I was overtaken. The faux invasion of privacy and the outside-looking-in view of their private conversations was exhilarating!

Suddenly, I was fire. I was filled with static lust. My brain was fuzzy, my body buzzing.

There’s a level of turn on I feel that doesn’t just happen. It builds, as if my body has reached its capacity for want; like I’m on the verge of exploding; it’s like something inside of me is expanding and pressing on every nerve, gripping my skin, desperate to release itself, and yet, achingly pleasant.

I reread and reread.

“I want you to cum on my tits.” She’d write.

“I can’t wait.” He’d respond.

“I want you to punish me so bad.” Her confession.

I’m all lust and it drops, localized, pulsing and ready to be taken. This is the urge of a cuckquean, of a hot husband fetishist, of enjoying pleasure that doesn’t belong to me…

Back to Now

Rereading those entries, I can’t fight the high – the lightheaded and hazy desire. 

The part of the story that I didn’t write down on March 13th, but remember vividly, is the fantasy and self-pleasure that followed. 

I imagined that James was texting Alex behind my back, without my knowledge. When I found the messages, I confronted him about it, and threatened to leave. I began crying, hurt; stormed into our bedroom, flung open a luggage and began packing my stuff. James followed, desperate to calm me. My hurt was too big, too strong.

In the second before I took my exit, he wrapped himself around me, declaring, “you’re mine. I love you.” He repeated this, over and over, refusing to let me go; his grip too strong to unravel from. Eventually he started kissing me, repeating those words. I tasted his pain, his torment, and we fell together on the bed. Him, in one sweep, taking my body and showing me just how deeply he loved me; how desperate he was for me to stay.


Remember this was a fantasy, generated from their virtual interactions. It wasn’t real. It would never be unless role played. Why? Because I recognize the toxicity in wanting someone to possess you. But, as a fictitious scenario in my brain, it healed something within me. 

Imagining James’ desperation and longing took a deeper portion of my fear (i.e., not being good enough, being left behind, betrayal) and eradicated it. 


Because in this fantasy, he fought for me; was consumed by the pain of losing me. The intensely codependent part of my being – the abuse I endured in past relationships, and the trauma inflicted upon me by inconsistent men – evaporated. 

This fantasy reminded me that I am capable of leaving if I have to; that I am loveable and will never have to endure my fear in its flesh because I have a choice. Also, it gave me a deeper comprehension of why I’m a cuckquean in the first place: it offers me a sense of control, something I’ve had very little of in my life.

During that fantasy, I touched myself to his possessive declarations and in that, I came together wholly; I understood that my hot husband fetish was legitimate. It proved the power of fantasy; that toxic characteristics (desperation and codependency) can be used as healing fantasies, so long as they are left there, in the fictitious. I also learned that I held the power of that healing in my hands, heart and head.

You see, sometimes by taking our deepest fears and turning them on themselves, we create new realms and possibilities.

For me, objectively viewing my reactions and then revisiting my body and emotions sans that reaction, provides an authentic point of view. Creating an extreme fantastical extension of James and Alex’s intimacy helped me access and dismantle core concerns I’ve been carrying for years. 

Having safe people in my (erotic) life, such as my husband, James, and my metamour, Alex, is a gift. I can comfortably explore my feelings and desires knowing the subject is always on the table; trusting that my relationship is unthreatened, but also that I am capable of taking care of myself. 

I always say, love and sex aren’t inherently connected. Today, I add this:

Self-love is not dependent on our attachments to others, but rather the depth to which we are willing to know and accept who we are (desires included). All we must do is step further into ourselves despite (even in spite of) our fears.

So, this one is for James and Alex, and all the wonderful things I get to learn and feel along the way. I can’t wait to see where we go from here…

Until next time,

Fuck well, friends!

Quean Mo xx

Post approved by Alex herself 😉

P.S. Remember earlier when I said hold tight, a podcast is on its way…? I was serious! James, Bronte and I are in the midst of recording some wicked convos and we want you to know the second they’ve dropped. Join my e-list so you don’t miss out on a single, sexy update or episode! 

7 thoughts on “Thoughts About Alex: The New Woman in My Husband’s Life

  1. I can understand all your thoughts, your fears, your agony but also your desire so well. I feel similarly when my beloved wife, with her lover, flies to the Maldives for three weeks on a Honymoon vacation.
    It is terrible and it is wonderful.

    1. “It is terrible and it is wonderful.” I fucking love this line. Always a light in my day reading your comments. 🖤

    1. Thank you, Jo. It hasn’t always been easy, but with practice, I’m getting there. I’m also highly introspective – I think having dealt with an eating disorder very young in life has helped me recognize pain quickly and address pain efficiently. Doesn’t mean I don’t slip up, but hey, it’s a process right?

      1. That’s a very powerful skill.
        I don’t think I can do it. I start thinking that hot wifing is more to my liking that swinging. But I am not giving up on idea yet:)

      2. That’s fair. I think knowing yourself and where you’re at is the most important thing. Enjoy it! 😉

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