There’s a new book out by the pseudonymous “author and former mistress” Holly Hill. The book, a memoir called Sugarbabe, details a season of her life in which she lived as a 24/7 paid executive mistress for several “sugar daddies.”
What’s getting attention, though, isn’t her saucy cover or admission of prostitution, but her promotion of a concept she calls “negotiated infidelity.”
The main point: women should allow their men to stray because 1) all men are naturally wired with the need to cheat; 2) but they still probably love their mates regardless of acting on this need; 3) so the best way to keep him from cheating in secret is to let him have sex elsewhere but negotiate the terms.
Quotes from a CNN feature about Hill:
Allowing their men to stray is a concept that’s difficult for most women to contemplate.
But Hill says that if a woman takes the time to truly examine her relationship and considers Mother Nature’s unerring spell on men’s libidos, she might realize that letting her boyfriend or spouse know she’s OK with him having sex elsewhere is a logical way to prevent him from doing it in secret.
“I think that cheating men are normal,” says Hill. “Monogamous men are heroes. Monogamy does have a place in relationships, but not on the long-term. Men are hard-wired to betray women on the long-term.”
…
“Men need to get their rocks off,” says Hill. “If a woman crosses her legs for any length of time and doesn’t arrange some sort of alternative for her man, he is going to cheat on her.”
By alternatives, Hill is referring to her idea of “negotiated infidelity.” That shouldn’t be confused with an open relationship, which to Hill “has no rules.” Nor does it imply that it’s necessary that a wife allow her husband to hop into bed with whomever he chooses — unless of course she’s OK with that. Hill says negotiated infidelity could mean hubby makes a trip to the local strip club for the occasional lap dance or updates his porn collection.
Well, the big news here is that I am a hero. Because, like Bryan Allain, I think negotiated infidelity is a crock. The idea that men are incapable of saying no to their naturally occurring libido is stupid. Maybe I’m obnoxiously chivalrous, or maybe I have some sort of bionic self-control over Mother Nature, but the idea that monogamy is somehow heroic — and overwhelmingly unnatural — is news to me.
I am bigger than my natural urges.
You know what’s natural? My urge to sleep when I’m tired. I need sleep. NEED it. I cannot function without some regular pillow time. This need is hard-wired in me. But because of my super-powers, I am somehow able to control not only when I fall asleep, but where. And with whom. Without fail, it’s at midnight, in my bed, alongside my wife. How is this even possible? Why am I not wearing tights and a cape?
And you know what else is natural? My urge to use the restroom. I need to do this. NEED it. Sometimes, after a few cups of coffee, I need to go REALLY bad. Unless I’m camping, though, I always ALWAYS find the self-control to void my bladder in the right place, at the right time. Apparently my ability to fight the natural impulse to urinate makes me a demigod of some sort. Where is my mask? My utility belt? My codpiece?
After 15 years of marriage, and on behalf of happily married and monogamous men everywhere, let me assure you that it is indeed possible for a man to not stray.
Lest this sound too self-congratulatory, I assure you that I’m not a perfect man or a perfect husband or a perfect father. Pride goes before a fall, as the proverb
says, so it’s healthy for me to keep the over-confidence under control
as well. I could mess up. I have to realize that, should I find myself in the wrong situation, straying
from my wife is always possible. Because I admit this, I try stay away from wrong situations.
Maybe it’s my avoidance of strip clubs, or solitary travel, or Las Vegas, but somehow I’ve found a way to be faithful to my wife and family, without having to resort to a mistress, lap dances, or a porn collection. Evidently this makes me something rare in the eyes of Holly Hill.
Holly Hill is wrong. I am monogamous not because I’m super-virtuous, but because I’m not an animal. I’m not ruled by my urges. I’m not a baboon, unable to resist the natural desire to
procreate with every warm female body that comes along. That’s why I don’t scratch
myself constantly either, or throw feces at my competitors.
Call it old-fashioned monogamy, or responsibility, or an abundance of caution. Call me weirdly committed to my wife. Call me too wrapped up in Christian morality.
But don’t call me heroic. There’s nothing heroic about being a grown-up.