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Coulda Been, Woulda Been, Shoulda Been…

17 Dec

This post is about hypocracy.

My dating life is rather full right now, between Bayani, Isadora, and a Friend With Benefits who I may speak about later. I’m not exactly looking for more women, but I’m not going to turn them down either. This is where Kaliope comes in. She and I have been sort of stalking her on a poly friendly dating site for some time now, but her profile says she is only looking for women. I should point out, as this becomes important later, that she was in a relationship with a male, and that any females she met should be open to partnering to him as well. I should also point out all this drama and stress has just made me appreciate what I have with Bayani and Isadora that much more. Also keep in mind this is all from my point of view, I have only what I saw, and what I was told, to go off of. Her side of the story might be different. If so, let her blog about it. This is what I saw.

So Kaliope and I started talking and hit it off, and decided to meet. Then we really hit it off. The sexual tension was palpable.

It turns out she and her long term boyfriend had been polyamorous for years, but had limited their experience to women, both for him and for her. He was uncomfortable with the idea of her dating me, but agreed to allow it. Yes, ‘allow’ is the right turn of phrase.

Now, Bayani and I have some rules about intimacy, to ensure that not only do we not make mistakes, to ensure we can each adjust to each others new partners. We agree to advance through the ‘bases’ slowly, one at a time. I told Kaliope about this rule, and she agreed it was a good idea, both for her and for her boyfriend.

She was new to this as well, I was the first man she was interested in for over a decade, so taking things slow seemed like a good idea. I thought I would be great for her, as I had been in his position just over a year ago. I understood his reactions, as I had just had them myself.

At the same time as she was dating me, Kaliope was also dating a new girl, keep that in mind.

We got to first base. Everything was good. We got to second base, and this boyfriend of hers flipped out. Now, there can be some confusion on exactly what happens on which base, but this was beyond that. Second base is pretty universally considered to be access too boobs. She had her shirt off while we made out. He was not ok with this. They argued all weekend. He did not think that was taking things slowly at all. Turns out he had somewhere between twelve and sixteen bases in mind. So we moved back to first base for a bit, just until he was comfortable with the idea.

Our schedules didn’t overlap much, and finding time to date was difficult. And he seemed very reluctant to give up any of what he considered ‘his’ time with her. Which was just about all her free time. Bayani and I reserve Sunday afternoon and evenings just for ourselves. No other events or activities, just the two of us. He reserved all of Sunday. And Saturday night. Any time I asked for felt to him like I was stealing her away. He protested. Not, I should point out, when she went out with this other girl.

A while later she felt it was ok to move on, and we got to second base. Sort of. We kept our clothes on, out of respect for his comfort level, but went ahead and put our hands down each others pants. Second base for some, third for others. She seemed like she enjoyed herself, and informed me the next time we met I was going to get a blow job. Definitely third base.

She told him what we did, and what she planned on doing next, and he freaked out again. Threw a tantrum. They fought all weekend. We went back to first base. Worse, she was not allowed to be alone with me, nor could we do more than lightly kiss.

Keep in mind, he was dating other women while all of this was going on. So was she.

She started making excuses for him. He was feeling rejected, and this would be easier for him if only he had a serious girlfriend to distract him. He was not being hypocritical, he was simply more tolerant of her dating women because he had time to get used to the idea. He wasn’t making demands, she was just being considerate of his comfort level.

The next time she came over, all we did was talk. Uncomfortably. He wanted her to break up with me, but was not going to insist on it. Yeah, when you tell someone you want to tell them to break it off but won’t insist, you are pretty much telling them to break it off. But she didn’t want to, she wanted to find a way to make it work.

A week later we had another date. Nothing but talking. More excuses, more uncomfortable talking. We weren’t  exactly breaking up, but she couldn’t really see me any more.

What the Hell?

I broke it off. Officially. I could not deal with this any more. I need to be able to fall for a girl without worrying about someone else’s rules. A relationship needs to be able to grow without restriction.

The hypocrisy was breathtaking.

I’m sorry, but if you cannot tolerate a behavior from your mate, then you had better damn well stop that behavior yourself. If she does not get to date men than you don’g get to date women. Allowing her to date women is not any better. It’s just as hypocritical, and is pretty damn sexist. That attitude implies a woman is less of a threat than a man, and therefore has less value. If you can’t stomach the thought of a man fingering your woman, then why is it ok for a woman to finger your woman?

Over a year ago, Bayani and I had a One Penis Policy. Well, not really. Bayani was simply not interested in other men. And when she was, when Abernethy came around, I was ready. Ok, not nearly as ready as I thought I would be. I had my reactions, my insecurities. But I didn’t stand in her way. I looked inside, I figured out where my reactions came from, and I dealt with them. Before Abernethy, I knew my discomfort with other men wasn’t healthy, that it needed to change. And I worked to remedy that.

This guy was doing the opposite. Rather than deal with his problems himself, he was looking for external solutions. Rules. Limitations. Restrictions. And that’s not healthy.

As far as I am aware, they are both still dating other women.

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It’s Been An Interesting Year…

13 Dec

We aren’t dead yet.

It’s been an interesting year, since Kasini and I broke up. It felt strange to be writing on here without her. And it felt strange to be writing about my current relationship while still dating her. Let’s call her Isadora. In a previous post I wrote about two women, Mrs Coffee and another. I chose Mrs Coffee, and at the same time started dating Isadora. Technically, since Mrs Coffee and I had intercourse, according to my Rules of the Blog, she should be called Imogen. Since they both came at the same time, they both get ‘I’ names.

Imogen was married and polyamorous, and had the absolute largest set of knockers I have ever had the joy to play with. But it just didn’t work out, did not last long at all. Don’t know why. Not too upset about it, as much as I miss those knockers, because I started really falling for Isadora anyway, and would have chosen her over Imogen in the end.

Isadora and I have been dating for quite a while now. She also has great boobs. She is single, unless you count her ridiculous dachshund.

Bayani is still dating Beaux, and while there has been some drama here and there, they are quite happy. They just celebrated their one year anniversary.

I will save my reactions to their relationship for another post.

I have met a few other interesting people over the past year too. Like Jenevieve. She is a friend of a friend, someone I had met at parties a few times, where she seemed quite curious about polyamory, but her husband was less than comfortable with the conversation. She had been stalking Bayani and I on social networking sites for a while, watching us flirt and generally be sickeningly cute with each other. She started hanging out with me, talking about relationships. Hers was falling apart. Two years without sex, no love, no intimacy, and a whole pile of troubles that just couldn’t be worked out. She confessed to craving intimacy, and asked me to provide that. A Friend’s With Benefits situation. Well, she is pretty damn cute so I agreed, provided she tell her soon to be ex-husband.

Isadora was uncomfortable with the idea of Jenevieve, but to her credit caused no drama. Isadora is deliciously free of drama. It’s quite nice to date someone mature and rational.

Which brings me Kalliope.

She get’s her own post.

So, that’s it in a nutshell. Time to start messing around on the ol’ poly blog, I think.

And I Thought I Was Ready For This

23 Jan

Bayani is in love with Beau.

And I don’t like it.

Well, it’s not so much that I don’t like it, it’s the culturally programmed part of my psyche does not like it. I thought I was fine with her being with other men. I thought I had worked out all my negative emotions with Abe. I guess not.

Now, I am not bothered with her having sex with this new guy. Really, I’m not. I even offered to rescind our Not In Our Bed rule to make things easier for her(which ended up working to my advantage with Hildegard). But the sheer joy on her face when she gets a text or email from him, that bothered me. A lot more than I thought it would. And it’s not so much that I am bothered by this relationship, I find myself having automatic reactions, thought burbling up from deep in my subconscious, things I almost think I should think. These are nothing more than reactions I have been told my entire life I should have. Damn you cultural programming!

So it seems with Abe I had to work through my wife having sex with another man, and with Beau I have to work through her falling in love with another man.

I had my typical behavioral reaction: I at first tried to put limits on what she could do, but very quickly realized what I as doing. Abe taught me that about myself, I tend to try to control things that make me uncomfortable. I know better, I don’t get to control any part of her relationship with Beau.

I did make one mistake(that I know of so far), in that I kept asking her to reassure me that he would never be more than a secondary, that she would not want him to be more than a boyfriend. This was how I dealt with my insecurities, by telling myself he will never be more than just a boyfriend, I get to be the husband. But my asking her this repeatedly made her feel as if I did not trust her enough to  limit the relationship on her own.

Limit the relationship, there it is again.

There is going to be a limit to their relationship. There has to be. I cannot be one of those guys whose wife has a live in boyfriend. That’s not me. And I would not ask her to accept my live in girlfriend either. So I don’t think this is my trying to control things, there is simply a natural limit to where things can go, and I have to content myself with that limit and not try to impose my own. I have to trust that she will always choose me in the end, in the same way that know I will always choose her over any and all of my other relationships. And I should not make her choose either. I really don’t want to make her choose. She can have this exciting new relationship and it won’t really cost me anything other than a bit of anxiety I need to work through myself.

I’ve met the guy, which was not nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. He’s a nice guy, a great guy, and I find I like him. I like her with him. Last night we had dinner with Beau and his wife. Oh yes, he is married as well, which should serve to reassure me further that their relationship will never grow to threaten mine. Dinner was not nearly as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. Beau’s wife is pretty damn cute, and looks a lot like Bayani. In fact, Beau looks a lot like me too. They are like our evil twins. Well, I think we are the evil twins, as I think we are far kinkier than they. So Beau’s wife is cute, and I found myself wanting to know more about her. She and I agree that we should get to know each other better, if for no other reason than to better accommodate Bayani and Beau. To do this, she and I will need to be able to talk without our spouses around, as last night I think we were all too defined by our relationships. I want to get to know her as her, not as  Beau’s Wife. I know Beau would love for us to hook up, he thinks a new relationship would be good for her. But I don’t want to pursue her because it would be more convenient to be dating my wife’s boyfriend’s wife, or because she is the only one available for me at the moment(she’s not, I have several fish on the line right now). But she is pretty damn attractive, and she is pretty cool too. I think we may have a lot in common, and I am willing to put forth the effort to find out.

I am considering asking her out. Come to think of it, I may have already.

She Does It, Why Not Me? or To Shave, Or Not To Shave

9 Sep

I was at this party last month, one of those wild ones with bottles of absinth lounging about in sexy poses and a pile of discarded and empty clothing on the table, when the condition of my pubic hair became the topic of conversation.

Well, this was a bit classier than that, this was no orgy, just a wild party. It was a Corset and Glamor party, with a select crowd who could be trusted to behave a safe and non threatening drunken and debacherous manner.

I walked out to check on the stew of lovely ladies simmering in the hot-tub, and this new friend of ours, let’s call her Peaches, loudly demanded to know why I refused to trim my pubes.

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A different side of the story…Part two–guest post by Bayani

31 Aug

I guess I should go ahead and finish my story of confusion, attraction, and self examination.

After Abe and I had our little makeout session at his house, he went out of town for almost a full week. This gave me a lot of time to think about what it was that made me panic and whether or not I could go through with more.

After Abe came home from his vacation, we planned to meet up again. This time, I knew what I wanted, how far I could go, and was ready to accept the consequences. When I left the house, Myrddwyn stopped me and stuffed a condom in my pocket. Does that seem strange?  A man gives his wife a condom on her way out the door for a date with another man. Strange, yes. Polyamory is strange sometimes.

We didn’t have any concrete plans, again, because we are lame and just don’t make plans well. I met him at his house, took one look at his exhausted self, and decided that he’d be no fun if we went anywhere. We decided to stay in again. We went upstairs again, with the pretense of looking for a movie to watch. Through some unspoken mutual decision, we skipped that part and commenced with the kissing. I will keep the details to myself. I imagine that Myr doesn’t want the details, and none of y’all other readers need to know anyway. All I can say is that it was terrifying, exciting, and wonderful. I got the feeling that Abe was waiting for me to freak out and stop again, but I didn’t.

I came home late that night, and Myr was waiting with fifty million questions. He processes things by gathering every piece of information possible and then rolling it around in his mind. This would have been fine, except I hadn’t finished processing it myself.  I process things slowly, and all in my own mind. It takes me a little while to decide how I feel about most things. I use my emotions and intuition where Myr uses logic and reason. I was still riding the waves of emotion that come from intimacy, especially the first time with a new partner. Myr quizzed me about details that I wasn’t emotionally ready to answer. This is where the *minor* tiff came in. I downplayed a few differences between Abe and Myr. Some anatomical, some techique-related.  I KNOW Myr doesn’t like to be lied to. I still don’t feel like I lied. In all reality, what sane person….okay, let me start this question over…   Who would know how to respond to the question “So is he bigger than me?” when she hadn’t finished processing the fact that she has just slept with the first non-husband man in over 18 years? I admit. I responded with a not-the-whole-truth answer. I responded in the same way a man, when cornered by a wife, responds to the question “does this dress make my ass look fat?”  I was honest, but didn’t give all the facts. Myr got upset. This whole deal has been dealt with in a previous post. I felt a little attacked at the time, and was trying to be reassuring and honest, while letting Myr know that I still wanted to be with him, and still trying desperately to process this HUGE moment in my life. I understood his need for reassurance. I really did, and still do.

Since that day, I have always told Myr the total, brutal truth when he asks me questions. I don’t volunteer information, I don’t see the need to do that. I know more about his trysts with Kasini than he knows about mine, mostly because I read these posts too. if he asks a question, he gets an answer. Occasionally, he regrets asking that question. Sometimes we don’t really want to know the answer. Just like sometimes I regret reading these posts, especially when I get a couple of them in a row that are intense. These are the things we deal with as a polyamorous couple. There is still jealousy. We just know how to deal with it.

On top of all that drama, Abe got me sick that day. He didn’t KNOW that he’d brought home what has now been dubbed “the Vegas Plague”. He didn’t realize that the symptoms that seemed like normal allergies to him would knock me flat for two weeks. He didn’t know that I would then pass it to Fanny, and my daughters, and Myr, and a couple of my co-workers, making me feel  a little like Typhoid Mary. I have since made him feel sufficiently bad for that.

And so the drama continues. The aftershocks of this “affair” are just starting to hit the rest of my life, and I may post at a later date about what it has meant for Abe and me in our other circle of friends.

Matching Undies, and I Owe Her Three New Pair

23 Aug

Now, we all know that when a woman makes sure her bra and panties match, she knows there is a chance someone will get to see them.

Not all the time, sometimes they just want them to match. Sometimes they just want to feel sexy for themselves.

But sometimes they put on a matching pair because they know, or hope, that someone will get to see them, and will appreciate them.

Most of the time Bayani puts on whatever is clean. But when we are going out, just the two of us, for a birthday or anniversary or just because, she puts on a matching pair, just for me.

The first time she was going to sleep with Abe, I had to watch her put on matching bra and panties for him. That was hard. It hit me right then, that my wife was going to fuck another man. I had to watch her primp, for him. Watch her put on her make up, doll herself up, make herself desirable, for him. Made me realize that perhaps I have taken for granted all that she does for me.

There was no good reason for me to object to this behavior. I know it’s not rational. But it stung. I was not really upset, just uncomfortably reminded of what she was doing. Now, I am fine with it. Really, I am.  But I don’t have to like her being excited about it either. And what good would it do to ask her not to? All that would do is cause resentment, and honestly, indulging in that urge would not be good for me either. I should not want to control her when she is with him, how she is with him. I want her to have as much fun with him as she can. But sometimes, I have emotional reactions. There is nothing wrong with that, as long as I don’t let it negatively affect my behavior. For the most part, I think I behave rationally.

And then the other night, a woman put on a matching pair for me.

It was our first time. Well, I didn’t know ahead of time it was going to be. She must have, because when I took her clothes off, she was wearing this incredibly sexy red bra, and an equally sexy red bottom. That was one of the hottest things I had ever seen.

She did that for me.

She wasn’t my wife, she didn’t put on the pair she knew was my favorite, it wasn’t an anniversary or birthday. It was just a random Saturday and she hoped I would get to see them.

I did see, and I appreciated the hell out of them.

She did it for herself, to enjoy wearing something sexy. But she also did it for me, and that was beautiful. The next time we met for coffee, she wasn’t wearing any underwear at all. She didn’t tell me this until after I left.

She’s a tease.

The next time we got together to have sex, she surprised me again. We had talked about panties and no-panties an awful lot that week, and I was looking forward to seeing what she would choose to wear, or not wear, for me. The whole night she kept laughing at me, as if she knew something I didn’t. With this woman, that could lead to trouble. When I finally undressed her, I was only marginally disappointed to see her bra and panties didn’t match. Hey, at least I got to take them off, so I was happy. Seriously, I was happy, my favorite style of underwear is whatever kind I am pulling off a woman at that moment.

Then I had her hands tied behind her back and her bra off and she was lying on her back(this is an incredibly hot position to have a woman in, btw, and she does this so well…), and I moved to pull her panties aside. She was laughing, for some inexplicable reason. I pulled her underwear aside, planning on diving in to lick her and make her squirm. There was a second pair under the first. And a third pair under the second.

The damned brat was wearing THREE PAIRS OF PANTIES!

Just to spite me. No wonder she was laughing so hard. The look on my face must have been priceless. Well, I could not let her get away with that, could I? Not if I had any hope of ever dominating that woman.

So I took out my pocket knife, and cut them off of her.

Each pair, one by one, slash slash, slash slash, slash slash. She stopped laughing. And judging by the look in her eye, that was exactly what I should have done.

There are some things better than a woman putting on a matching set just for you.

The Worst Part

5 Aug

I hate walking away.

I don’t  know how to do it. Do I act cool and strut down the steps? Do I sulk and pout my way to the car? How many times do I turn and wave?

I mean, when you have just spent some intimate time with a woman(anything from making out to sex to just opening up and baring your soul), how do you walk away from her front door? I hate that part.

I love walking TO a woman’s front door, with all that excitement building up inside, the anticipation of what is to come. What might happen. What you hope will happen. But when you are walking away, you know it’s over. Time to go home. Oh, you can still let your mind wander while you drive, thinking of her lips or the feel of her skin or that look in her eye when you grabbed her wrists and pushed her down.

It’s over by then. A memory.

For the moment at least. But, while you are walking down her front steps toward your car, trying to convey both awesomeness and sadness, you haven’t gotten to the memory part. You lips still tingle, her smell still lingers in your- how do you write ‘nose’ or ‘nasal cavity’ and make that sound sexy? Her scent still lingers, teasing you, pulling your thoughts back to when your face was buried in her neck.

And how do you stop kissing them at the door? How many lasts kisses are appropriate? No matter how cool you try to be, breaking away from a warm, soft, willing woman is kinda like saying ‘I have somewhere more important to be’. At least I hope they don’t think that. What does a woman think in a moment like that(or a guy, I don’t care)? Do you judge that one last kiss more than the others? Do you turn and fall against the door with a soft moan of regret that it stopped? Do you run off to text or email all your friends about how awkward it was? Do you peer out the window at us as we drive off, asking yourself what it means that we only stopped to wave once, not twice?

Gah, it’s awkward no matter what I do.

There is one small, silver lining to walking away: the possibility of coming back. Now I get to look forward to walking up to her front door again, savoring the anticipation.

I’m a guy, so when a girl walks away from my door I have it easy, I go make a sammich.

Jealousy Inside Out

19 Jun

Happiness isn’t getting all that you want, it’s wanting all that you have.

I am awesome. I am having so much fun right now being me, that were I to die right now, I would want to be reincarnated as me. I really am this awesome.

I have an incredible wife(and a spectacular girlfriend), great-if occasionally frustrating- kids, until recently a really cool career, I’ve written a book, I can cook, I love my house, my friends and family are awesome.

And yet, there are things I wish I had, or did, or was.

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On Marriage… and a rant.

17 Mar

Part of me wishes I had never gotten married.

But not for the reasons you might think.  No, choosing to spend the rest of my life with Bayani was the second best decision I ever made.  Having kids was the first(in order of import, not chronologically).  But I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me I’m devoted to my wife.  Some people might disagree with me, claiming that the way I live my life proves I am not devoted to her.  And it is this very close-minded, short-sited and limited view of marriage and commitment that causes me to wish I had not gotten married, that I did not play their game.  Playing by their rules endorses their control.

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When I Am Wrong

25 Feb

It was recently brought to my attention, that I have the admirable trait of admitting when I am wrong, and of re-assessing my position when confronted with contrary facts.

Kasini and I were at our coffeehouse, talking about sex and Dungeons and Dragons and relationships.  I made an offhand comment that was not entirely accurate.  I got the look that means I’m either being an ass, or went to far.  I quickly analyzed what I had said, and how it had come across.  My initial statement was not accurate, in fact, it was just plain wrong.

I stand by the core observation behind my bumbling joke, if not the details, though I should have thought before speaking for my comment was way off base.  Kasini forgave me for my inaccurate comparison, and we moved on to discussing How to Be Wrong.

I like being wrong. Continue reading