The super hot Threesome

So, one of the people in my life who make it amazing is A.  Since he’s been sharing a bed with me on a regular and predictable basis for nine months, he’s been a frequently feature on this page.  He also is the reason I have to process a ton of emotion on occasion, not because he stresses me out, but because our relationship is unique and interesting and non-traditional, so I have to continuously process emotions that conflict with my upbringing and have to reconcile the difference between what I feel and what I know and what I want.  And a little bit because he’s a pain in the ass.  But having a man in my life who both challenges me to confront my emotions and supports me through them is a wonderful thing.

A is pretty committed to helping me live out many of my fantasies. At least he’s been up for anything I’ve suggested so far, as is evident from our move from vanilla to testing dom/sub dynamics to our transition into a dom/sub relationship.  Months ago, I talked to A about having a threesome with my friend G.  We were working carefully towards that as an end goal when my grandma died, A’s life became crazy stressful, and G had some bad poly experiences that led to her and her husband deciding to be monogamous.  As a result, A and G never had their date, they never tested chemistry, and the threesome was put on the back burner. This was never really a big deal. A, despite his man-ness, says he has never had a big fantasy of having a threesome. Not that he’d turn down the opportunity, but it isn’t something that drives him.  In fact, I find it interesting to talk to him about fantasies, because he says he doesn’t really have them.  That he just enjoys sex and the opportunities presented to him. With me, he knows he can do whatever he wants, I don’t have many limits, and that’s enough for him.  I find this yet another one of the interesting parts of the uniqueness that is A.

So, for months, a good friend of mine, who I will call “U”, and A have been flirting back and forth through me.  Mostly jokes about sex and cleavage pics and the like.  I told her early on that I thought she could have fun with A.  At the beginning, she and her hubby were monogamous.  Then they decided to test the waters with swinging.  Extremely successful in that adventure, they decided to embrace polyamory. I had a great talk with her husband when they were first trying to decide if poly was the right thing for him.  They recently broke up with the couple they were dating and U has been having a hard time with it.  I talk to her daily, and somewhere in the conversation she said “I need sex. Can I borrow A?”  Naturally, I said: “Of course you can, but instead, do you want to join us on Friday for our date?”  

So, over the next week, she and I chatted a lot.  A and I went out for beers on Wednesday and I jokingly said to U, “I’m going out with your boyfriend A, anything you’d like to ask him?”  Not missing a beat, she sends me a picture of her in a thong on her stomach in bed and says: “No, but tell him I’m ready for my spanking!”  He was on a business call at the time and the smile that got was amazing. I’ve made the picture I took his new contact picture on my phone because it’s so awesome.  I passed on U’s info to A and they started chatting, flirting, and establishing rules for Friday night if a threesome was to occur.

We decided that our plan was to go out for dinner to chat and connect and drink a little, then to go back to U’s house and see if a threesome was in the cards.  We had a great time at dinner, hilariously ran into 5 people from the poly/swinging community on our way out of the restaurant.  I had this hilarious experience when we stopped at a drug store for condoms and had to ask this poor elderly lady where the condoms were in the store because I couldn’t find them and she said that they had shipped all the condoms to another store because they were renovating, and I just said “That’s a really bad business model for a drug store!”, and she pointed me to the clearance aisle to look at the few boxes they have left, and I loudly declared “None of these will work for me, there aren’t any large ones!” and walked out.  So, we stopped at a second store where we were successful and off we went to U’s house.  

We sat on the couch and chatted and drank while making sure her kids were asleep.  I went to the bathroom and came back and U was straddling A and they were making out on the couch.  I snuck into the bedroom, readied our bag of tricks and made sure the condoms were open and available on the side table.  As I walked out, they realized I was in the room and we all headed to the bedroom.  What proceeded is 3.5 hours of the hottest sex (with video and picture proof) of the hottest sex I’ve ever had and been witness to.  As a side note, the video that A took was of U and I giving him head together.  It’s fucking hot video.  I’ve always known that my face betrays my emotions, I could never be a poker player, but damn if I didn’t look completely fucking hot when I looked at A (and therefore the camera) in the videos.  I guess my face betrays how turned on I am too!  

This was a series of firsts for A and I.  Both of our first threesome.  My first time doing anything other than kissing a girl.  My first taste of pussy.  My first time getting eaten out by a girl.  My first time sharing my boyfriend with another woman in the same room.  I think my favourite thing that was said was A saying “this is way hotter than porn depicts”.  Seems that while the threesome wasn’t his particular fantasy, he enjoyed himself anyway.  My other favourite thing was the fact that for only the second time since our first date 11 months ago, A was speechless.  The only thing he could say was “that was fun.”  Given that the man usually has some pretty competent word usage, I’d say that meant he had an overwhelmingly good time.  

But, this blog isn’t about A and his experience, or U and hers, it’s about mine.  My feelings, my perceptions, my experiences.  I can’t say I’m done processing the amazing experience that this all was.  I’m trying to think through how I felt going in, during, and after.  The truth is, I feel damn good.

I’m an eternal, perpetual, and probably annoying to some, optimist.  I don’t tend to worry much about things in advance of them happening.  I have a faith that I can deal with the situations life deals me or more accurately, I put myself in.  I know myself well and I very rarely make choices that I don’t know for certain I can handle with grace or at least physically intact.  Some would probably say I’m very enthusiastic about things I’m passionate about, at least I hope my enthusiasm is obvious.  In the last year, I’ve become really passionate about making decisions for myself, for what’s best for me.  I’ve made myself a priority. This hasn’t been easy, but I could say that making the best decisions for myself has become my passion.  As a result, I have many new passions, and one of these is authentically connecting with people.  Another is hot sex.  Connecting with people and having hot sex together is an exponential of my passion.  (Get it?  Passion squared? No?  Guess my nerd is coming out too.)

So, going into Friday, it never really occurred to me that the threesome would be anything but amazing. The fact that it even exceeded my high expectations is incredible, but going in, I had no anticipation of failure.  U had messaged me earlier in the day and said “If I don’t want sex, is that OK?”, and I naturally said “Of course, consent can be given or taken away at any time, you are not required to do anything.”  I think A had more reservations about the threesome, but that’s his story, not mine (I’ve requested for him to write out his processing of the experience, but it might be three words long – “It was fun”).  It became pretty clear to me during dinner that it would be a go and even then I wasn’t nervous and didn’t have any reservations.  What I was concerned about was that while I’m an expert at using my anatomy for my full pleasure, I’m not experienced with using another woman’s anatomy for her pleasure.  I was worried I wouldn’t be good at oral on a female or that I wouldn’t enjoy it.  I don’t know how good I was, but I made her orgasm more than once, so I’m going to go with “adequate”. My worry about the quality came from my confidence that I know what I’m doing when dealing with man parts, but not at all with another woman’s parts.  My concern about not enjoying it is simple – you never know if you are going to love something the first time you do it, and when someone else’s pleasure lies in the balance, insecurity is justified.  Within minutes (seconds?), I knew that the latter wasn’t any concern.  While I would still identify as heterosexual, my healthy curiousity and passion for hot sex makes me definitely interested in pursuing more sexual experiences with women, at least with women that want to have a cock join us in our sexual adventure.  Especially since boobs are amazing!

There are a few other things worth mentioning, as far as I see things. The first is, I openly shared my boyfriend with another woman, so openly, that I offered him up freely and willingly.  Of course, one can argue that our relationship is based on sharing, given that he’s married to another woman, but there’s a huge difference to knowing that your boyfriend is married and having sex with another woman and inviting another woman into your bed to fuck said boyfriend and watching it and participating. I didn’t anticipate any jealousy going in, because it’s an emotion I rarely have, but one never knows when jealousy will rear its ugly head.  I once got jealous of him posting a picture on Facebook with his wife calling her beautiful and saying he loved her, of course, it lasted approximately 30 seconds, because it was dumb, but emotions like jealousy normally are, but that doesn’t mean they are fleeting. (I’m not saying jealousy is dumb, I’m saying that it’s a symptom of other issues that need to be worked through, and letting it drive your decisions is a bad idea, I’m just being flippant because talking about a hot threesome is way more interesting than talking about jealousy).  I honestly didn’t think it was possible, but I’m even more attracted to A now that I’ve seen him fuck my friend than I was before.  This is saying a lot, because I rarely stop thinking about how much I want A as it is.  Both the sex and our connection are mind blowing, and this is probably another blog post all of its own, so I’ll leave it with saying that we have solidified our relationship in a way over the last few months that makes it extremely valuable to both of us, and this just improves our sexual and romantic connection.  Watching him and joining him in having hot sex with my friend just made me feel closer to him.  It was a shared, very hot, very intimate, very fun experience.  It makes me want to see what other kind of cool sexual adventures we can have moving forward and makes me willing, if not eager, to share him in additional sexual exploits.  

The other thing worth mentioning is that we picked the right unicorn (That’s why she’s “U”!!!) for our first threesome adventure.  It seemed a natural thing for me, because U and I talk about sex all the time and had joked for ages about having a threesome or sharing A, so actually fucking wasn’t really that big of a step for me.  That it was A that I chose to share also wasn’t chance, in nine months, he has never once failed to take care of me in bed.  I knew he would easily be able to take care of two women.  A mentioned on our way back to my place how incredibly cool it was that everything was so natural.  There were no awkward moments, everyone was comfortable, everyone was included, everything just worked.  It hadn’t actually occurred to me until he said that that it was actually more likely that there would be awkwardness or weird moments.  Instead, there was laughter and dialogue and orgasms and tons of hotness.  Going in, A and I discussed what we wanted from the experience, which is to say, I told A what I was hoping for.  There were a few fantasies that I wanted to fulfill, but in my mind, you don’t go in as a couple to have a threesome with a girl without ensuring that she has a fantastic time.  So we discussed that our priority going in was going to be U’s experience.  I suspect that A had some concern that I wouldn’t get as much out of it as I do at our weekly dates, but I was pretty clear that I knew he would make up for it later.  I think there are a few reasons we worked so well. The first is that we are all super sex positive people.  The second is that I have a great connection with both A and U, so nothing was awkward for me (This is my realism, I would have been the one to make things awkward).  The third is that we are all very confident individuals, so insecurity didn’t interfere.  Either way, the whole experience exceeded my fantasies.  Exceeded. That’s fucking amazing.

U enjoyed A’s performance so much that she invited him back for a one-on-one  (not surprised, grandpa has mad skills). My own response to this is worth talking about.  It was fear.  Fear of losing A.  I have zero issue with him having sex with her.  I worried only that because his time is so limited already that I would lose time with him (when I would love to have more time with him) if they become a thing.  In his cute little obtuse way, he said he didn’t think it would be a recurring thing, and I laughed at how silly he is that he thinks she doesn’t want him regularly.  He did what the best boyfriends do.  He reassured me.  That what we have is extremely valuable to him and that no one can destroy what we are at the core of us.  Had he been anyone else, I would have responded with a simple “I love you”, but our uncomplicatedly complicated relationship doesn’t involve those three words, at least not from him.  I suspect that he enjoyed himself enough that he wants to have that one-on-one time with her too and I’m excited for them both. Time will tell if there are any consequences to me in there, but in the meantime, I’m going to trust that A will do as he always has – live up to his word.

The final thing worth mentioning is that U showed her hubby the videos from our tryst, and apparently I have quite the sexy blow job face.  (I agree on this one, the videos are hot as fuck).  When I woke up near noon on Saturday, my phone was alight with messages from her and from him, asking for a foursome in the future.  I had a chat with A, and he is game.  To quote: “The threesome was fun, why not add one more?”  So, our adventures will continue.  My passions will continue to be explored.  

So those are my feelings about the night.  But there’s more to it all.  A year ago, I was in my first poly relationship with X.  I was discovering a world of sexual freedom and intimacy I hadn’t known possible.  I was beginning to understand and accept who I am and make decisions to honour myself.  When I imagined myself in a polyamorous relationship, I anticipated a situation where I was still married to F, had a committed boyfriend, and F had a committed girlfriend.  I fantasized about kitchen table polyamory and an extended poly family.  I dreamed of more role models for my kids, meaningful connections with partners and metamours, and an extended polycule of support.  Never, in a million years, would I have believed it if someone would have told me last year that this, what I have now, would be my happiness and fulfillment. I wouldn’t have believed I’d be separated and happy and sure about it.  I never would have dreamed that I would be solopoly with three men in my life that bring so much diversity and happiness to it.  It goes to show that sometimes your dreams are not what you really need in your life.

I would never have dreamed that A was the one who would bring so much value to my life.  I would never have believed that this man, who has an ego that is earned, a sensitive heart that he tries to hide from the world, a generousity of spirit that most don’t understand or see, who can compartmentalize his life but still prioritize a girlfriend in the busyness of marriage, family, and running a business, but still has boundaries and limitations that he enforces unapologetically, would be exactly who I needed and wanted in my life. I never imagined a partner like him.  I never imagined a situation where I was dating a guy whose wife didn’t really want a relationship with me or one who isn’t interested in knowing my kids or really knowing my friends.  He’s in addition to my life in many ways, instead of a part of it.  

We talked before going out with U on Friday that our relationship is different from any others that we know of.  Or rather, he talked about it.  I had said during the day that I was looking forward to seeing him fuck another woman, and he responded with “Really?!?!?”  So, when we were having a glass of wine before we went out, I asked him why that surprised him, and he said “you have to understand how different our relationship is from other people’s”.  I guess it’s true.  One of the things that’s happened to me as I have prioritized myself and made the best decisions for my life, choosing to forego societal expectations of me in favour of my happiness, is that I have started to lose sight of the fact that most people don’t make decisions in the same manner I do.  I needed to be reminded that in the monogamous world, women don’t regularly want to see their men fucking another woman.  That I don’t see the world the way the majority do.  That A and my relationship is something that we created out of our ideal, no one else’s.

That’s it.  We’re happy.  We’re living the lives we want, interweaving them only on our own terms.  It’s good.  It’s hot.    

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Happy Right Now

My life is fucking fantastic.  Shall we talk about how?  Yes, yes we should!

Well, F has moved out. Or at least there are dirty spots that need to be swept or vacuumed where large pieces of furniture used to be.  It’s almost done.  The relief and happiness I feel at this transition into independence is incredible.  Yesterday, I picked up my kids to take them for dinner, and my eldest two expressed that they were having a hard time with all the changes, as the previous night was their first night in their dad’s new place.  Luckily, my parents live close, and were able to come meet us for supper, and helped me give the kids the love and attention they needed to just feel a little more secure in their little lives.  When I dropped the kids off with F, he and I had a good chat about how to help the kids with the transition and came up with a plan to work together. We talked with our eldest about how we are friends now and we are going to always be on her team and want to help her as much as possible.  I talked to my second eldest and just hugged her and sung the “I’ll love you forever” song, and she said “Does this mean you’ll always be mommy?”, and I said “Yes sweetheart, I’ll always be your mommy and I’ll always be here for you.”  I have no illusion that F and I won’t fight in the future, but last night was a great example of what positive separation and coparenting looks like.

My job is great.  I am getting constant positive feedback from the people I work with and the people I work for.  More importantly, I love everything about it.  I enjoy the intellectual stimulation, the challenges, the people I work with, the learning I do, and the flexibility in my schedule.  

Things with A are great.  More on that in another post, because I have a lot to say there, and he’s pressuring me for an insight into my thoughts on recent events, and it’s fun to make him wait.  Things with L are good. I don’t see him as much as I would like.  I’ve been busy and he’s started dating another girl, so his time is more limited.  He has evening activities often and I’m busy during the day.  He’s been pushed back in the pecking order of my men a bit, but when we are together it’s amazing.  He’s supportive and fun and loving.  What we have is great, and I’m going to choose to be happy with that.  I’ve been dating another guy.  This gorgeous, sweet, kind, and fucking sexy man, who I guess will get the letter M.  I met M months ago at a polyamory pub night.  He and his girlfriend and her husband gave my drunken ass a ride home that night.  I remember him walking into the pub and thinking “Damn, he’s really fucking hot.  I bet he’s an asshole.”  Sure enough, I was completely wrong.  Talk about an exercise in checking my biases and assumptions.  He’s so nice.  He’s going through a divorce, has two kids that are the same ages as two of mine, and he’s amazing in every way.  Everything about being with him is simple and easy.  When we began talking, it was because he sent out this “You are Awesome” video to nearly everyone on his friends list on Facebook.  I wrote back that I thought he was awesome too, and asked if he had sent that message out to everyone, and he said yes and that his phone was blowing up.  I commented that it must usually be like that, and he said “No, it’s usually pretty quiet”.  I said that surprised me because he’s so hot and charismatic and kind that I thought the women would be throwing themselves naked at his feet.  He destroyed my assumptions by saying that had never happened, and said he thought I was hot too.  I just said “Really? We should talk about that some time?”  He responded with “Nice advance lady!”, and we kept on talking.  That was over a month ago, and it’s going great. He’s fun and kind and makes me laugh and turns me on and rocks my world and I’m happy with how simple and easy it’s been.

Everything is great.  I’ve never been this happy. Ever. Which brings me to an interesting conversation with a coffee date I had a few weeks ago. He said: “I’ve given up on happily ever after.”, and this got me to thinking.  I don’t think there is a happily ever after. That’s the stuff of lies and fairy tales.  What there is, or at least has the potential to be is Happy right now.  This is my new commitment to myself, working for the end goal of being happy right now.  It’s just all part of making the choices to be true to myself and live the life I choose.

 

The exact right thing

Sometimes things just work.  My life has ramped up in busyness.  I’m back full speed at work but loving every minute of it. F is about to move out into his own rental place.  We transferred ownership of our vehicles the other day and the cashier at the registry commented on how good we got along for people about to divorce and I laughed.  It seems that the stressful days that I have experienced aren’t the definition of stressful for most people and F and I actually get along pretty well.  Funnily enough, after I said that we have four children together, so we both know we are stuck together for the rest of our life, and it’s better to get along, she says “Oh, so what happened?  Did you two just grow apart?”  So, I responded in the only way I know how to when it comes to a complete stranger asking you to sum up the cause of you choosing to end your 14 year relationship as casual conversation.  I said: “Sure, let’s go with that!”

That same evening, F and I sorted through some household items.  We spent four hours together. Four hours, where we didn’t fight. We laughed, we talked, we compromised, we joked, we ate pizza with our kids. I had a glimpse of what it can be like if we manage to become friends, coparents, and a team for our kids.  It was an amazing gift of premonition about the potential we have.

Even later in that evening, I had my normal Friday night date with A.  I hate calling them “normal”, because our relationship is anything but.  It’s unique and fun and full of connection and mind-blowing sex.  When every time you have sex, it’s ‘top three’ good, you know you have something worth keeping.   

Earlier in the week, I found myself alone with time to spare, and smoked a joint and spent sometime with my thoughts. During that time, my brain got in a negative loop that wouldn’t stop.  I started doubting everything.  Somewhere in my logical, not stoned, brain, I decided to email myself a list of questions that I should ponder, when, I wrote:  “you are capable of legally operating a motor vehicle”.

The next couple days, I spent processing my doubts.  My insecurities.  The imbalance in our feelings for each other.  Wondering if that translated into bigger problems that I am unaware of. Wondering if it meant that the commitment that we share isn’t shared at all.  Somewhere, in all of that, I knew that the problem was mine, not his, and that it was mine to work through and didn’t need to be communicated until I’d processed the shit out of it.  

As I processed, I realized that the root of my issues laid in the fact that there are things in our relationship that scream of “this is not a relationship but a side-piece”.  In my infinite loop of negativity, I focused on a couple things that really bothered me.  Among them was the fact that I’ve never been to his house.  That he never invites me out to anything.  That he nearly never comes out when I invite him out with my friends (and is rather dismissive of the idea in general).  And, as always, back to the fact that he doesn’t love me.

I get it.  He’s busy.  He often says something like “If you want me to come out to this event, then I can’t come to your place on Friday”.  I guess I feel like my kids must feel when I give them a choice between two things they really want.  Like no matter what, I lose one of the things I really want. That, right there, is where I was going wrong. I was losing sight of the fact that in that situation, no matter what, I win.  I win time with a man who brings so much value to my world.

As I was processing the shit out of my twisty bits that I didn’t need to communicate, A came to a poly pub night for one of the Facebook polyamory groups I’m part of.  I had been inviting him out every month since January, and the closest he got to coming was when he picked me up from the very first one, drove me home, and we broke my bed!  The happiness and comfort I felt sitting in between A and L, a hand on each of their legs at that poly pub night, was extraordinary.  It’s an incredible thing, to be out with two men I love, and being able to be out about it.  To have them sit at the same table and interact with each other and everyone else. There’s something so comforting about my life choice being understood and accepted and the men who are so important to me being accepted without question.  The gorgeous man in the suit on my right who can command a room in a second and the cute guy who is a little awkward in jeans and a t-shirt on my left.  It’s a wonderful place to be, however temporary.

This seemingly small thing, A coming out to this night, was so special to me.  More important than it should be. One of my friends questioned why it was important to me, and it got me thinking.  Why is it?  It’s because it legitimizes my place in his life.  It acknowledges it aloud in the only place we can.  A place that has been missing in my life since D left it, because with our polycule, back then, everything was acknowledged and normal.  The next day, on our Friday date, we were talking about the night and how he probably wouldn’t come out again.  It was hard for me to understand.  On a visceral level, it hurt to hear that he wouldn’t be willing to come out with me again.  So I asked him “why?” He said the only thing I didn’t expect to hear.  The one thing I hadn’t considered.  He said: “We have so little time together, that when we have it, I don’t want to share you with other people.”  This is a paraphrase, possibly misrepresented, but if so, it’s what I want to remember it as.  In that moment, he put a brake on the negative thoughts revolving around in my head, and reset me.  

It never occurred to me that he didn’t come out with me because he wanted me alone.  It never occurred to me that he valued the time with me alone.  It never occurred to me that he didn’t like sharing my attention.  It never occurred to me that he had thought about the fact that he would rather be the focus of my attention than to share it.  It never occurred to me that he wanted to focus his attention on me.  

He said the one thing that I needed to hear.  He’s either the most perceptive person on the planet, exceedingly lucky, or very good at reading what people want from him.  No matter what, I’m happy that he said what I needed to hear.  That I matter to him. That he wants to be with me. That he values me.

It seems so silly when I read it.  But being valued is pretty much the most amazing feeling in the world.

 

Monster metamour musings

Today, there was a post about metamours on a local Facebook polyamory group I’m a member of.  I saw the post in the morning and spent all day thinking about metamours. I have had a pretty wide range of metamours, when I think about it.  X’s girlfriend knew about me, but we’ve never interacted, because we lived in different cities. Fun fact: I’ve actually not seen him in person in 14 years.  B’s wife knew about me, but didn’t want to hear about me. She was very much “don’t ask, don’t tell” in her philosophy.  I suspect that a lot of this had to do with her unhappiness in their marriage, which ended in January this year. Then there was W.  She embodies everything that makes a metamour a nightmare. She was manipulative, insulting, passive aggressive, and outright lied.  She interfered in my relationship with F and she interfered in my relationship with other people.  She continues to get involved in our divorce and my kids keep coming home asking me questions about things she says to them.  I keep hearing the horrible things she is saying about me to friends.  She is a perfect example of what I never want to be as a metamour.  

Then there was D’s wife. She exemplifies everything I ever want to be as a metamour.  She welcomed me into her life before I even started dating D.  It was nothing for us to hang out before D came home from a date or for us to go for dinner together with her boyfriend or to go for brunch just the three of us.  She is the woman who gave up her spot in the bed so D and I could spend the night together, spontaneously, when I crashed a gathering they were at.  She is the woman who heard from someone else that I had said something that she wasn’t OK with, so she came directly to me with her concerns.  She is the model of metamour that I follow.  No judgement, no drama, great communication, support, and acceptance.  

A’s wife is very good friends with D’s wife.  I have no doubt they talk about me and that D’s wife plays a role in A’s wife’s acceptance of me in his life.  I have only really met her the once, the same night that D’s wife gave me her spot in the bed. At that time, my relationship with A wasn’t really a relationship yet, and it was new.  We’re 9 months in now, and I haven’t seen her since.  We’ve had a few texts back and forth, but our relationship exists mostly in likes and the occasional comment on Facebook.  I’m sure she knows a lot about me, filtered through A, like I know a lot about her, all filtered through A.  I find it hard sometimes that I don’t have more of a friendship with her.  I really appreciate having my own relationship with my metamours.  I have a natural tendency to think the worst.  So when A has to cancel or limits our time together, my initial reaction is always to blame her.  I always talk myself out of such ridiculousness, because I don’t really know her, so I don’t really know what’s going on in her life, and blaming without understanding of facts is stupid.  The fact is, even if she was dictating everything, it doesn’t matter.  This is where I think that many people would tell me I was in a hierarchical relationship. Perhaps I am and I’m delusional.  The reality is, A is madly in love with his wife. They have 20+ years of history together, some of it wonderful, some of it heartbreaking, but they are each other’s best friends.  They have a family together, they have their routines, and they have their life.  I’m not part of their life.  I’m part of HIS life.  He told me, in that brief period of time we were friends between our first date and our first fuck, that if she ever said she had a problem with his girlfriend, he would end the relationship.  That stuck with me, and while I know he would miss me, I also know where I place in his life, and I know that I’m not as important in his life as he is in mine.

Because of this, I am the metamour I am for her.  I’m not sure she’s even aware she has a metamour, or at least that there is a term for the relationship we have by virtue of sharing the same man romantically.  My position is to be understanding and accommodating and make things easier for all of this to work.  So, when A’s wife was having a hard time one weekend and really needed to spend time with him, I was understanding and forgiving when he cancelled a date.  When we set up weekly dates so that he could keep his weekend dates with his wife and family, I agreed.  It’s why when I try to make plans for us, I ask him to run it by her first, or ask him if she would be OK with me booking us to do an activity.  It’s why I accommodate changes in our plan.  It’s why I try to not ask for more than A can give (I’m not always perfect at this) and try to keep things casual and fun when we’re in between dates.  It’s just my part of making things easy for us to be together.  In the end, it’s about respecting the person I’m dating, his priorities, his obligations, and the other people who are important in his life.  More than that though, it’s about respecting his needs and desires in our relationship and working with him to create the relationship we want together.  

When I met L’s other girlfriend, I knew immediately that we were going to be friends. We just clicked.  I’ve been a source of support for her, welcomed her into my life with open arms, and I haven’t been disappointed.  She is really good for L and complements me well.  She’s young, but has had a life of someone twice her age.  She’s strong and independent and watching her make choices for herself to be happy is amazing.  She reminds me a lot of myself when I was that age, she’s still figuring things out and she’s doing a great job of it.  I’ve fallen into a bit of a mentoring role, mostly because I am older and have been through a lot of the things she is going through, but mostly, I think she’s going to end up being more like family. I can thank D’s wife over and over for showing me how to be supportive and accepting and welcoming of L’s girlfriend into my life.  L is so good at communicating things that he really facilitates his girlfriends being friends.  He loves us both, is committed to us both, and is creating a world with us where we all work.

I guess my point with this is that I think that if we are developing relationships that we allow to evolve on their own, without expectations or pressure, we should also do that with the relationships with our partner’s partners.  I think there are too many expectations in the metamour relationships in polyamory.  I think it’s good to respect your metamours for their decisions and their comfort levels.  What makes you happier and more comfortable may not be doable with them.  Attempt to understand them and be the metamour you would like to have.  

There’s going to be an inevitable time when I have a conflict with a metamour in the future.  I hope when it happens, I remember my own advice, to try and understand them and work with them.  

That time I say not much has happened then write about all the things that happened

It’s been a while. I’m sure things have happened. Feelings had.  Life lived. Nothing crazy or mind blowing (well, except my sex life, but you can just be jealous about that) or hard (well except for….kidding!) or awful.  Let’s see what I can dredge up, seeing as how A is going to start nagging me about not maintaining my blog for my 3 followers.

I got tired of dating.  Or really, I got tired of all the time that was going into online dating.  All the time getting to know a guy, the messages back and forth, the seeming connection, and then we meet and there was NO spark. Like nothing. So I deactivated my OKC profile and decided to be open to new opportunities and not actively look. In an ideal world, I’d have 2 more guys to date, but I’m really happy with the two I have.

The day after this decision was made, I got a Facebook message from a guy I met a few months ago.  I was still with D at the time, I think it was right after I asked for a divorce from F. When I saw him, my jaw dropped. The man is gorgeous.  I’ve met a lot of hot men through the years, and I didn’t really expect much out of him, so when he was smart and kind and genuinely funny, I was a little shocked.  I suppose there is a lot of privilege and bias in my initial assumptions that need to be addressed. I thought that just because he was hot, he wouldn’t be nice or smart.  Wow, don’t I look like an over-educated, average looking, judgmental ass. Nothing could be more obvious about my misunderstanding than the way we started talking. He had sent out a “You are awesome” video to pretty much everyone on his friends list.  He said his phone was blowing up, and usually it’s quiet.  I was shocked that his phone was ever quiet, I told him, because he is so hot and charismatic and nice, I thought he would be fighting off the ladies.  He laughed and said he thought I was hot too.  I joked that we should talk about that fact some time, and he said I had nice moves.  Yep, that’s me, unintentionally getting a date with a man I’ve been lusting after from afar without knowing he was available for months.  This girl has game she didn’t know she had.

We’ve been chatting a lot via text and it’s nice.  He’s sweet and kind and smart and lovely.  We had a date last week, and it was amazing.  Tomorrow, he’s coming for an overnight date.  Anticipation for this date is killing me.


I had a bit of an epiphany about A and myself and my expectations.  Specifically, I realized that he is not the problem, I am.  Or rather, my expectations are.  He’s never been anything but honest with me, although he could really use an improvement in his communication, because honesty is much better received when it’s timely instead of nagged for.  I realized that normally I have no issues.  We do our once or twice a week thing, we connect, we pretty much are alone in the world when we’re together, but there’s not much more to it.  We chat a bit, are there for support, but our world exists 95% in the context of the short amount of time we spend together each week.

I realized that after I hadn’t seen him for three weeks, and I really missed him and wanted to see him, I wasn’t as much of a priority to him as he is to me.  This realization hurt.  I wanted him to care about me in the same way I care about him.  I wanted him to want to be with me when he hasn’t seen me in a while.  I wanted him to miss me like I miss him when he’s gone. But the reality is that I had to accept that that is not the case.  

G is my go-to person when I need to figure out what I’m missing.  She asks the right questions and she gives the right feedback.  She acknowledges my feelings without sugarcoating or placating. I love that woman.  I talk to her about every emotion I have before I make any decisions.  I’m so glad I have her.  Here is what she said:

“I get why it hurts that his life comes before (ergo you’re not really a major part of his life, are you? And I can read how much it breaks your heart that you aren’t)  I get how hurt and heartbroken and lonely it makes you that you need more emotionally than he can give.  He’s an unabashed third stringer love.  Hoping and expecting him to be a first stringer is going to break your heart, break you up, and isn’t fair to him or you.  He is only capable of a casual dating relationship. No more, no less.  That doesn’t make him wrong for only wanting that.  And it doesn’t make you wrong for wanting more. My question to you is why does that more have to be with your relationship with A?  Is there any chance you’re comparing his abilities to D?”

My friend, my soul sister, talked me off the ledge.  She reminded me to think about the whys of the whole situation.  She reminded me that I was searching for something that wasn’t there while ignoring the amazing I did have.  She reminded me that expecting more was futile.  She also reminded me that what we have can still work for me, but it’s my attitude that needs to change.

I understand where my feelings are coming from and why.  I know how to mitigate it through communication.  I know how to work through it by really processing the why of how I’m feeling before I react.  I’ve had a few more rounds of visceral feelings to various things in the last week, and it’s been easy to put my relationship with A back into context.  In fact, he started talking about me getting another boyfriend so he could go back to his role as “number 3” and I just started laughing and told him I was astounded by how romantic he was and that he really knows how to make a woman feel special.  Friday as he was leaving, I told him he was a “perfectly adequate third string boyfriend”.  We’ve fallen back into that comfortable routine where we are both busy and are able to live our lives and catch up when we’re together, with no pressure.  Uncomplicatedly complicated.


In other news, I’m in love with L.  He’s sweet and kind and fun and lovely to be with.  I’m happy he’s in my life and I’m enjoying every minute I spend with him.  The future is bright there and we both know it.  I had a gathering the other day and several of my friends met him.  One of them said: “L is such a dork and I love him!”  He is. He is the best kind of dork.  I love him for just being such an amazing person, the person he is.


I have seen D quite regularly in the past months, just being at the same events.  It’s fun to chat with him and his wife and to see that he’s doing well.  I’d be lying if I didn’t say I still want him, I have reconciled myself to the fact that I always will, but it doesn’t hurt to see him as a friend.  In fact, I think it’s pretty great that we can get along and I really like that he’s still in my life.  I don’t pine away or silently hope he’s hurting too or want anything more.  I just am aware that if he came to me tomorrow and said “Can we try again?”, I would.  This is never more true than when I hug him and smell his beard oil.  It’s a crazy Pavlovian response that I have every time.  The scientist in me understands it completely: the ex-girlfriend in me who knows what it’s like to be covered in that scent after hours or even days in bed together connects that smell to more wonderful things.  In the end, this is all just amusing to me.  

As I thought about this today, editing it for the third or fourth time, I realized that I’m not sure I would take D back.  Honestly, I want what we HAD back.  The thing is, he broke my heart by leaving my life during one of the most difficult periods I’d ever gone through.  He left me when I needed love and support most.  I’m not sure I would actually be able to jump fully back in.  Being friends is exactly what we should be.


Otherwise, life is moving forward. I’m crazy busy, happy, and fulfilled.  I have good days and bad, full of connection and full of sadness, full of joy and full of boredom.  My life is awesome, my life is authentic, and my life is so much easier now that I’ve made so many good decisions for myself and my kids.

 

A poly year

A year ago, I went to bed, happy and fulfilled in my life, at least I thought.  I had a crazy dream that night.  A dream about X that was anything but platonic. That dream prompted me to message X when I got to work the next morning.  And the rest is history, as they say.  He introduced me to polyamory, and changed my entire life.

I’ve been poly for a year.  I’ve never been so certain about a decision in my life.  I am polyamorous.  I have had the most amazing year.  I fell in love with X and felt the intensity of our connection and loved him so completely.  Then it ended.  I met A, and we had the weirdest first date ever, with our bizarre coincidences and crazy connection.  We friend-zoned and were both happy to do so.  I met B, who was a romantic interest in my life for a short time, but has been a steadfast friend as I navigate my divorce and my dating life.  Then I started dating D.  I fell so madly in love with him, in the most intense and amazing way possible.  I had months of a near perfect relationship with him. It ended, in an absolutely awful way, but it doesn’t change how amazing the relationship was.  In the meantime, I unintentionally started the incredible relationship I have with A.  We embarked on an adventure exploring BDSM together.  We supported each other through some pretty shitty times.  We turned to each other when the rest of the world was railing against us.  We just became who we are together as a couple, while being who we are as individuals.  We figured out what worked for us.  I met L.  We are still working on creating what we want in our relationship together.  Committed and cooperative and happy and moving forward together.  

My marriage disintegrated.  It was awful and conflict-filled and I held on too long. Then I stood up, hopped off the roller coaster, advocated for myself, and moved forward.  We are working together to co-parent the most amazing four kids in the world.  We have moved forward as adults and our separation is negotiated.  I hope that moving forward we’ll work together instead of apart.

I dated.  I had coffee dates and dinner dates and drink dates and lunch dates and breakfast dates, and I had first kisses that rocked my world and second dates that ended in disappointment.  I had horrible dates and hopeful dates and disappointing dates and a wife messaging me to tell me I had a liar date.  

Outside of the poly part of me, I had three grandparents die.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer.  My sister cut me out of her life in a hail of fire.  I lost friends, met new friends, and connected more strongly with others.

I told many people about being polyamorous.  All but my sister reacted positively.  Nearly all embraced me and my chosen lifestyle completely, asking relevant questions and supporting my choice.  Most importantly, my mom supports me and my kids support me.  I have told so many people now that I’m almost “out”.  Not yet.  But one day, I will be.  In particular, I came out to G and to my person at work.  I made the strongest connections with two women who will always have my back.  They are better than having a sister.

I loved.  I loved men like I’ve never loved before.  My relationship with D only need serve as an example.  I’ve never loved someone who wasn’t blood so unconditionally.  My love for A is unique too.  It’s the first time I’ve submitted to a man worthy of my submission.  He’s earned a special respect and love from me. That’s something bigger than I can explain in words.  The fact that he doesn’t really ‘get it’ makes it even more important and a little funny too.  These loves taught me about the type of love I should have.  The type of love I want and the type of love I deserve and the type of love that I shouldn’t accept.  Through loving these men and the understanding of what it meant, I loved myself again.  I chose to stop sacrificing my happiness.  I expected more. I demanded more.  I became more.  I became a better woman, a better mom, a better partner, a better person.  I stood up for myself.  I supported the people I love.  I became who I’ve always wanted to be.  

I cried.  I hurt.  I raged.  I cried some more.  I have never felt so broken.  I have never felt so confused, hurt, rejected, unloved.  I cried as I shed my old me and the new me became.

Today, a year later, I’m happy. Truly, completely, thoroughly, uncomplicatedly happy.  My life is full of everything I could possibly want.  The most amazing kids, parents who love and support me, friends who accept me unconditionally, partners who accept me for who I am, two fulfilling, challenging, and stimulating jobs, and so much of everything I could ever need.

Happiness came in a form I never expected, because I had a dream.

What was missing

I’m the girl that nearly eight months ago advised A to stop trying to find a girl who fit into a mold he had envisioned and to embrace the opportunities in front of him.  I encouraged him to date and enjoy what developed. To stop looking for a specific thing and to see what could develop.  Part of the reason for this conversation is that both of us didn’t really feel a romantic connection, despite the fact that I had crossed the couch and we were already having incredibly hot sex at the time.  He had gone on a date with a girl who he had a great connection with but for allergy reasons he couldn’t continue to date.  He had other reasons he didn’t want to continue to date her, and at that point, he felt like there was something wrong with him.  I suggested he should just have fun and see where things went with the girls he was dating.  That he should stop looking for something specific and embrace what came to him.  I suggested that since he was happily married, he didn’t need to check so many boxes, that he could probably find something that was fun in and of itself.  Something unique.  Something worth it.

When I was giving this very good quality advice, I wasn’t thinking that he would end up dating me.  I never thought that we would be in a slightly complicated committed relationship.  I never envisioned anything that happened in the months that followed.  What I know is that this man saw me through the greatest heartbreak of my life, he also saw me through the negotiations of my divorce, and he saw me through the emotional breakdown that happened when my life slowed down enough for me to start processing.  This man, who is so incredibly frustrating to talk to about emotions was my biggest support when I was going through so many.

I’ve been dating.  I was rather smug when I first dated as a poly woman.  Three dates and two boyfriends out of the deal.  Break up with the one boyfriend and accidentally make the other one my boyfriend.  Well, I have more than learned my lesson since.  I had that horrible date after Christmas, I had another with a guy who was married to a girl I went to highschool with, I had a coffee date with a guy that was nice but there were no fireworks.  I had the great date with the hot bearded guy that knows D, and a second, but he doesn’t want what I want, so that went nowhere.  I had the great date with another guy, who ended up too busy to keep dating me, which was too bad, because I was really into him.  There was the guy who was lying to his wife.  There are so many guys I’ve been talking to who I eliminated from contention for this reason or that.  The guy who, before meeting me, suggested we have sex without protection and set off every red flag there is, who I stopped talking to immediately.  The guy I met the other day for coffee, who I had this great connection with in text, who completely failed to ignite a spark.  

I’m disconcerted, disenchanted, and disinterested.  I miss NRE.  I miss connection and that overwhelming desire to be with the man I choose.  I had it so completely with X.  I had it throughout the entire relationship with D.  I haven’t felt it since.  Not even a little.  I am in love with A, but that happened slowly over time, with connection, shared experience, and the deep trust that we have developed.  It was an interesting transition from friends to friends who fuck to friends who fuck who get in a collision together and he unintentionally calls me his girlfriend when we make out in the back of the cop car, then I become his girlfriend and we really like each other and then I fall in love with him and he avoids talking about feelings with me to where we are now.  I’ve been dating L, who I think is cute and amazing and fun and lovely, but I’m not overwhelmed with emotion for him, I just really like him.  The rest of the guys,  I just can’t get past the first date with.  Those I do, don’t get past the second.  

I would feel broken.  I would feel disappointed.  I would feel wounded.  But I’m not.  It’s not about me.  Or maybe it’s about me having standards that didn’t exist before.  I have a benchmark, a threshold, that I can’t reach.  That threshold was set first by D.  He’s tainted me for all future relationships.  So few will ever reach a place where he just set himself by being who he is.  A and L and even X are the only ones who have lived up to those standards long enough to stick around.  There is nothing wrong with having high standards.  There is nothing wrong with high standards.  There is nothing wrong with insisting the men in my life fit into my life in the best possible way.  What is wrong to me, is that I was giving exceptional advice about eight months ago that could apply specifically to this situation, and I am doing the best to avoid listening to it.  What is also wrong is that I didn’t insist that my husband reach that bar.  I settled. That realization hit me hard.

 


 

I wrote the first part of this post over a week ago.  I was dealing with some pretty heavy emotions that I didn’t understand at the time.  Feeling like something was missing, not knowing what it was, thinking there was something wrong with the relationships I have and trying to figure out if I could stay happy with what I have or if I needed to communicate needs I have, and if so, what those are.  I was a bit lost, to be honest.  I was admittedly sad, thinking about how in love I am with A and how he’s not expressed love for me.  I even engaged him in a rather unproductive text conversation about it that ended up in him shutting the conversation down as I got way too into the feelings.  At the same time, my dad was showing his worst side on Facebook, and between the two, I knew I needed to shut down the outside world for a while and take some time to turn inwards.  So I deleted Facebook off my phone, stayed in contact only with those I love, and embarked on a 2500 plus kilometre road trip filled with camping alone, visiting the best of friends, and so many epiphanies that I don’t know if I can actually put them all into words.

The first epiphany came the morning after I embarked on my week-long journey and I was chatting with a friend, saying how disillusioned I was with dating.  How my standards were just too high, and I was finding the effort that goes into internet dating to be too much.  I realized that my “problem” is that my standards ARE high.  But it’s not a problem, I just haven’t met anyone worthy of my time.  It’s a good thing.  

This realization made, I decided to focus on that feeling like something was missing, but not knowing exactly what it was.  I’m pretty damn good with my emotions and I know myself really well, so it was so weird to not know what was missing.  There are two major factors that fall into this part of my many epiphanies. The first is that there isn’t anything missing.  I don’t need anything more than I have in my relationships.  Do I want more?  Yep.  I want love to be reciprocated.  Is it something I need or want enough to draw a line in the sand?  No.  It would be pretty damn dysfunctional of me to demand something like that, and if love isn’t given freely and willingly, then it’s not really given, and the alternative is to end a relationship that I love and cherish and value so very much.  I would never do that because A doesn’t tell me he loves me, when he does, at least some of the time, show me that he cares about me.  

This is overthinking it and so far away from my point. The reality is that for the last year of my life, I have had the full range of very very very intense emotions.  From love to anger to heartbreak to disappointment to lust and back, I have had it all.  I have navigated enormous amounts of stress and major life changes, and as such, have been in emotional damage control mode for so long that when I finished that damage control, my mind didn’t catch up with my reality, and I started treating the functional parts of my life as another problem to be solved.  The thing is, there is no problem. They are functional relationships with partners who are working with me to create what makes us both happy.  That things aren’t perfect is a given.  Nothing is perfect, because we are human.  But the commitment, affection, and cooperation is there.  There’s nothing wrong with that.

The second part to this “missing piece” epiphany hit me so hard that I was nearly winded by it, and then I had to spend two days thinking it through and deciding what to do, and was the subject of my second night camping alone in a no cell service area.  X and I reconnected in May, just a week or so before D broke up with me.  It started out just chatting and joking with the usual sexual innuendo, and has progressed from there to more intimate conversations.  It got to the place where when I was talking to people I met on OKC, I would mention him.  “There’s X, he was my first poly partner.  We’re just friends now, but if we’re ever in the same room together, we probably won’t stay clothed for long.”  Over the last few weeks, as F and I finalized our divorce negotiations, as I was having some pretty deep feelings about A going away and not seeing him for a few weeks, and as some pretty amazing things were happening in X’s life, we started talking more, and he became a huge source of support for me and I for him.  On Friday, a huge event happened in his life, and when I heard how well it went, I was so very excited for him. Like genuinely happy in a way that shook me to the core.  I realized in that moment, that I love him.  I don’t know if it’s “still” or “again”, but either the hidden feelings rose again or they rekindled.  

I spent the next couple of days trying to decide what to do with this knowledge.  I’m really enjoying our friendship, and don’t want to lose it.  I’m happy with what we have and can stay happy with it.  There’s not a lot that can be gained by pretending that the feelings don’t exist, but it occurred to me that I don’t need to advertise them either.  Then I remembered a year ago when he dared to tell me about polyamory.  How he dared to reach out to me and love me and support me and ultimately, lose me because the timing was wrong.  So much good came back from that risk he took.  I decided to reach out to him and tell him how I feel.  He received it well and is taking time to process. That part doesn’t matter (well, it matters, but not for what my topic is). What matters is that I realized that part of the reason that I don’t spark with anyone I meet is that the space is occupied by someone else, and I don’t have room for another person unless the spark is strong.  There’s very little chance that anyone will ever reach the level of spark that X and I have.  It’s 23 years of foreplay, for fuck sake! What form our relationship takes going forward is up to us.  It may stay the same, it may change, but no matter what, it will be interesting, for sure.  

I spent the last two days processing what is going on in my life.  Or rather, what isn’t.  I decided to stop dating.  I’m going to focus on the relationships I have, including my two men, my family, and my friends.  I return to work tomorrow and as a career-minded girl, that will consume a lot of my time.  I’m going to live my life with love and freedom and really hot sex.  And instead of looking for the missing thing that isn’t really missing, I’m going to enjoy all that I have, because I have so very much, and what was missing was me being cognizant of that.