A sore point.

It's odd how small things can change the course of a relationship in ways that'd you'd never even expect.

Yesterday morning I noticed a slight tingle in the corner of my lip, and I realised that, thanks to a combination of stress and sucking face with a stubbly guy, I was developing a cold sore. By the time I went to Mr Singular's house for dinner at around 7pm, it had blossomed into its full, itchy, annoying maturity.

But this was, counterintuitively, a good thing. An infectious cold sore on my mouth meant that the most intimate thing we could do was hug. In fact, it puts me out of sexual action for around five or six days. Faced with no sex or even kissing, we had no excuses not to sit down and talk

We snuggled on the couch and watched some Will & Grace DVDs, with my head resting on his stomach and him leaning down every so often to kiss me gently on the forehead. I stroked his leg, perhaps mischeviously, in a way that made him sporadically hard; I could feel his erection pushing against the nape of my neck through his shorts. We talked for a bit and eventually shut the DVD off because we weren't really watching it.

I decided to be bold and give him an opportunity to get answers to any questions that had evolved over the last week. I asked him, "We've been dating for a week now. Would you like to ask me anything?"

He asked me why I didn't have a sexual history until my mid-30s. I told him the truth. He asked me my opinion about gay marriage. I told him the truth about that too. Wrapped up in each other on a couch, full of wine and with no anticipation of sexual activity on the horizon, we could open up to each other and clear the air. We shared what we wanted in the bedroom (apparently my kissing is too aggressive, but the things I'm doing when I blow him are driving him wild). Unfortunately we aren't yet in a place where we can discern where all of this is going, but hey, it's only been a week and we are coming from very different places. He's eleven years younger than me but for every man I've shagged he's had six or seven.

As for my fears raised by the barebacking episode of the previous night, he swore that he only did it because he knew that he was completely clean. As for my other fears... well, it's a little low, but when he went to the toilet I flipped open his wallet and glanced at his credit card. The name on the card matched the one he'd given me. Later I noticed some mail on a table, and it too had the correct name. So I was reassured that he was telling me the truth.

I still want to physically see the results of his last STD test. But everything about what he says and how he acts speaks of the fact that he wouldn't do anything to put me at harm.