and then he cried Uncle

Richard and I have had a turbulent time together, but not always in a bad way. Extreme in passion, jealousy, disappointment and debauchery.

I've held on far too long, I know that. But I wanted it to work. I wanted him to accept the love I have for him. To be free to give and please and push.

He wrote to me today. He says I'm difficult. I'm demanding, it was too much and it beat him like waves against the rocks until he was spent, until there was nothing left and he needed to just cry "uncle" and be done.

I love you. I love you still.

I'm sorry I couldn't please you. I'm sorry you didn't feel like you were enough. I'm sorry I was that catalyst. I'm sorry most of all our love wasn't served better. I know I have character flaws, faults of willfulness, I know it's hard. I know you think I'm strong and self sufficient. I know you think I'm a brick and calm and centered. All those things you said at last, the truth you told me today was hard to hear. It's hard to bear it and carry it with me now. Truly I'm just a girl, soft and unsure. Sitting needy in the dark.

I remember that morning, lying in your arms in the wee hours, spent and exhilarated. I remember you looking at me with such admiration and yearning and that feeling of rightness about it. I remember I said, "I will, if you will" and then you did, you jumped off that cliff and I followed you only delayed by a moment's breath. Then we fell, we fell for a very long time and now it's shattered into a million pieces and I've known it for a long time. That mirror in the hall, I stopped looking at myself because I could see you leaving in my eyes. I thought if I held them tightly shut it wouldn't be so. I stood there wanting you, watching you, wondering how I could possibly be so imperfect. I hate that you compared me to them. I hate that they meet your expectations.

I love you. I hate you. I love you still.

I want you to go now. Go so I can stop failing. Go so you can tell yourself that you were right, and true and strong. I think you need that more than I do.

dramatis personae

So. One of my readers who has been entertaining me lately with a little on going flirtation asked me on Saturday about my others.

"Actually, I was wondering through all the vagueries about your flirtations and FWBs just how many others Jolyon* is sharing you with (besides you're SO and his wife)? "

Well, at any given time, about six. When I sit here and think about it that sounds like a lot, I mean, yeah, that's a lot but let's put that number in context. I'll go through one by one and introduce you to the players in this drama called My Life.

First and foremost is Jolyon (pronounced Jo-lee-yun). Jolyon and I have been married twenty-two years, he was my high school sweetheart, we married young, got pregnant early, almost divorced three times. He's the most constant, enduring, trustworthy man I know. I respect and admire him and the work he has done to keep our marriage together, alive and thriving. Jolyon at present is not dating or in a committed relationship. Not because he isn't willing but because he has been taking some time to get over a recent and heartfelt breakup. He is the boy next door and if you want to know more about him and his poly views, ask him.

Next. Jack and his wife Marrianne.

They have been happily married for twenty-four years (if I remember right), they met in college and it was love at first sight. They have three beautiful children who are close in age to mine and J.'s. He's a successful engineer and a professional photographer. She's a school teacher turned retail manager. I met them in the spring of 2005 at our local monthly poly meeting. Jack and I started dating almost a year later in January of '06. He is wonderfully handsome, older than me, rugged and gentle, thoughtful and self-centered, opinionated, caustic and confident that boarders almost on arrogance. Our relationship has been a tough go since we are both two peas in a pod. He is my significant other. Marrianne and I have only recently started dating. Although both of us being bisexual we have had numerous sexual encounters in groups together, now we are building a relationship that's just ours. She is tender, kind, compassionate, easy going to a fault and wonderfully patient. When Jack and I get into a scrape she's our referee.

Now, after what I call the significant relationships in my life there are those relationships that are, to a greater or lesser degree, either 1. entertainment 2. Friends w/or without benefits. Here's how I see it:

Richard and his wife Janice.

Married for twenty-four years also. One child. He is older than me, moderately active, shares my interest in art, wine, coffee and architecture. Jolyon dated Janice for almost two years and recently ended their relationship. In the beginning we were a quad. Richard and I had started dating only a month after I started dating Jack. It was a head over heels, intensely passionate and sexual explosion. It was a volcanic eruption of emotion and bodily fluids. I gave myself to that relationship whole heartedly but unfortunately we both were not on the same page. Due to some miscommunication, after a year spent in a roller coaster relationship, did we find that we wanted very different things. After some significant time apart we recently resumed communication on a friendly level and after the dust has settled I believe it will be a sweet enduring friendship w/o sex involved, but since it was GREAT sex we both agree to leave the option open to be FWB.

Elliot.

Elliot is a divorced male, single parent with two children. He's poly/swinger. We met years ago through a mutual friend while he was still married and J. and I were monogamous. We saw each other at parties of the mutual friend and flirted shamelessly and argued about anything and everything as he loves to be contrary. We have dated on and off for about seven months, we text a great deal, have lunch a couple of times a month and have settled into a casual friendship. Elliot has some medical issues as of late that prevent us from having sex, although being a single parent that was always a challenge anyway.

My dearest sweet Henry.

Single, never been married, no children, monogamous. Henry is in his late forties, he lives alone, he's kind to his mother, consistent in friendship and I feel a deep trust and affection for him. He is a gentleman of fine caliber, intelligent, creative, gifted and a functioning alcoholic. It took a while in our dating for me to realise his addiction and if you ask him he wouldn't think that was a correct assessment, but as a recovering addict myself I know the signs. Henry, out of all the men I've dated has been the most interested in really getting to know me. He listens and wants to know what I think and how I feel about anything and everything, he dotes on me and I eat it up. After coming to terms with Henry's drinking I decided to stop seeing him, I felt that what he needed was to get himself together and maybe another relationship with a woman who could eventually be his wife, give him children and make him the center of her world. He deserves so much. At this point Henry and I are not dating, we keep in contact regularly and he asks every time we talk about getting together and I'm tempted. I'm leaving this relationship open and if he could get a handle on himself it would be a relationship somewhere between casual friendship and committed love, whatever that means.

Then there are my Web Friendships/flirtations. There are several but all at a distant, entertainment level. None of these know my phone number for instance or where exactly I live. It truly is the love of correspondence and verbal repartee that keep me going. I know what they have shared with me but I have no way of knowing if it's the truth. A few of them, the adorable reader who inspired this post for instance, I would love to actually meet in person but not all of them.

So, there you go.

Two significant others, three FWB all at different levels of affection and attachment, none of which I see regularly, three Internet flirtations, and a few more just for "pen pals" of a naughty sort.

Cool Huh? Who's a lucky girl?

All Hail the Mighty

Ode to the Penis

Resting now against your thigh

looking vulnerable

I bend my neck to gently

nuzzle that velvety softness

calling to me in my slumber.

That warm, firm swallow

of silk and satisfaction

calms the midnight of my yearning

deep and unbearable.

Eyes hungry

for a glance of human art

starving for the ancient.

How I long to rest them

for a while

upon the god of my heart.

Hands that cry

Hallelujah! with every touch,

every stroke

to grasp,

even for a moment

the virile power

that you carry so sensibly

in a pocket

all day.

The play room had a king size bed, one that had just been vacated, proof of which lie in the wet spot that accosted my naked ass without warning. No matter, everything fell out of my head as soon as my legs opened and invited her in. I was swimming in that moment, or rather floating. The heat began to pour off of me and they couldn't help but touch. Intensity was shooting from my toes and out the top of my head, I think I tend to tip my hips and arch my back in an effort to keep some of it from spilling out on to the floor, but I couldn't help it. I leaned my head way back and it just happened to be free from the confines of our playful sex arena and it was then, upside down that I saw him. In a smear of greyness that was barely illuminated, he stood, masturbating as he watched us. Yes, yes, yes...

Weeks later we were lying together enjoying the undressed afternoon in a tussle of blankets and pillows. Loving and being loved at the same time. Smiling to no one in particular our hands went from each other to the familiar surroundings of our own souls. I stared first, stroking, teasing, pinching, fucking myself. I forgot to watch him, to see his reaction and let his eyes feed my hunger. Glancing casually in his direction his eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy, he was busy and almost ready. Yes, yes, yes...

It's no exaggeration to say I love cock. I LOVE cock. If it didn't sound too much like idolatry for my taste I would say I worship the phallus. It's only been recently that I have discovered a true and ravenous appetite for watching men masturbate. When I'm watching them there's such a subtle vulnerability in their form I find it compelling. It makes me travel with them back to those adolescent years of longing and inexperience. Lying in their bed, in their mess of a teen-age boy room, smelling of dirty socks and semen. Imagining myself sliding between the sheets with them, maybe holding that porno magazine they've stared at a million times already, or the underwear model in that catalog they stole from their mom. I can see myself whispering in their ear things they could do and how good, oh so good it feels. Watching them go back to that time as they deftly and precisely handle their package, as if it were a bomb that needed careful diffusing.

Also, for me is the real and sensual visual of them conceptually loving themselves. How you love yourself is at least as important as how you love others, on every level, no? Getting a peek at the way they do it gives me insight into how they like to be touched, the speed the depth, the length of stroke. It's like watching an owner's manual on DVD. "This is how you provide scheduled maintenance..."

Anyway, it's that kind of day. Thinking about all the men in my life, imagining them one by one, lying, sitting, pants down around their ankles, eyes shut tight, whacking away like there's no tomorrow.

I Scream, You scream...

First, let me say that I am no where near as eloquent a writer as The Girl Next Door is. Her gift is writing (whether she believes it or not) and mine is not. I have not really been very good at expressing my thoughts in any sort of written form but I will do the best I can.

It was interesting reading her Snozberries post. We had talked at length that day about her being horny for one of her significant others. At first, I felt bad for her because it was something that she wanted and I like to do everything I can for her to give her what she wants. Unfortunately for me, one of my bad poly habits is over-thinking things. As the day wore on, I began to change my mind and started feeling a little resentful. She is right in describing how she is when she has a taste for something. She really wants that flavor of ice-cream and nothing else will do. It’s not that she likes her other favorite flavor less, she just really wants what she has a craving for. Now me, on the other hand, I have lots of favorite flavors of ice cream as well. The difference between us though is that I have a much broader craving. For me, it’s ice cream, period. Within that, I get to pick from any of my favorites and still be pleased so if one flavor is not available, there is always another one that I can pick. Since this was how I was thinking, I start telling myself if she can’t have the one flavor she really wants, surely she would at least just want ice cream no matter what. But she isn’t like that. If it’s not the flavor she wants, then nothing else at that time will work. Talk about feeling like chopped liver!

Since she and I both decided to pursue this lifestyle, I have had to do a lot of re-thinking how I feel about things, especially as they relate to sex and the two of us. As she said in her post, we were each others’ first. We have gone through a lot in the many years we have been married, a lot of growing and learning. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my wife sexually so I think I kind of got myself into a bit of a rut. I was raised in an extremely conservative religious family. I never had ‘the talk’ with my parents so what I learned about sex was limited. I was taught to treat these things as shameful. Now, The Girl Next Door comes into my life and I learn that we really like having sex together when were teenagers. Then we get married and I begin learning more about her, her childhood, abuse she suffered as a child. I am very sensitive to these things because I love her and do not want to hurt her or ruin anything for her so I start learning to be cautious about having sex with her. I also don’t want to come across as a pest as I have inherited one of the prominent male genes of extreme horniness from my family so I try not to pester her all of the time for sex. Eventually, we settle into somewhat of a routine sexually. I realize now that this was not a good thing to let happen, at least for me. When things become routine, I begin to get lazy and take things for granted. Now, along comes Poly which really starts getting my brain churning. Now I am seeing a totally different woman, at least in my mind. She is like a wild woman, she is doing things that we haven’t ever done before or haven’t done in a long time. I start getting what I call the ‘Maxwell House Coffee’ syndrome. You know, “Bob never has a second cup of my coffee”. I start thinking maybe I am just really not satisfying her anymore. For a while, this really rattles me. It is only when I get into my first poly relationship that I start to understand that it is like getting different flavors of ice cream or new ones you’ve never tried before. I didn’t love having sex with my new partner more than her, it was just different. If anything, it made me appreciate her that much more. We still see some things differently though, simply because we are different people. For me, The Girl Next Door will always be my first choice for any cravings I might get. When I do have those times where I am craving a flavor that is different and isn’t available, I still want ice cream! Nothing at all is NOT an option! So no, I do not feel betrayed as she thought in her post. I just feel jealous sometimes. That’s right, the evil J word. Anyone that tells you there is no such thing as jealousy in Poly is full of crap. Sometimes I just wish I could be all of her favorite flavors.

Tribal Dance

Joylon and I have been talking recently about combining households or what the hip phrase lately is... becoming a "tribe."

Several weeks ago I had a dream...

I'm in a beautiful home with a cozy, family, loving feeling. It's got a centrally located great room/kitchen area. Off to one side are two bedrooms and a bathroom. The master bedroom is spacious enough to hold a moderate library a computer and a tv, it's got a walk in closet and a bathroom so it's like it's own little suite. The other half of the home is the same. So in my dream Jo and I share the home with Jack and Marianne and their children and our teenager still living with us. What I remember most about the dream is the feeling of love and security and family. We lived together as a family.

Then I woke up.

Communicating about my dream has been a good step for Jo and me. It brings up a lot of emotion on both sides and a lot of valid questions. Could we be compatible under one roof? Could we truly trust each other with the care and nurturing of our children? What about finances? What about chores around the home, who is responsible for this or that and why? Another thing brought up which sort of dampened my fantasy was Jolyon's attitude and realistic desire. He's not sure he could love them on that level. "I mean, let's face it" he says "this relationship is about the three of you, it doesn't really include me on that level." Fine, I think to myself and grumble under my breath. In actuality he's right. It's easy for me to be carried away with feelings and thoughts for the future because I'm in love, deeply in love, but it's different for him.

How far will compersion go?

So, last night I'm thinking about it again, living with them, and I'm re-reading old emails Jack has sent me (he has written some of the most beautiful love letters) and I'm showing them to my daughter, she's a twenty-something young bride herself, and she says to me "Mom, that's beautiful. He's so sweet... he's my favorite. Of all the people you've been involved with, I love them, both of them the most just like family." Wow. How satisfying.

Jack has taken our youngest along with he and Marianne's son on a day trip today, just like family.

It's wonderful, it's frightening.
I love my life.

It Takes Two to Tango

Jolyon here. Miss Girl Next Door and I had been talking recently about her blog here and thought it would be a good idea if I gave my input from time to time. Not necessarily a 'my side of the story' kind of thing, just thoughts from both sides to get a better understanding of what being Polyamorous is like for us.

I believe that she introduced me in an early post but, being that blogging can be a sporadic thing, I thought I would re-introduce myself. I am Jolyon, loving husband to the Girl Next Door for over 20 years. We are in our 3rd year of a polyamorous life style. That sounds dramatic, I know, but really not much has changed the way you think it might. To others that don't know of our lifestyle, we look like your typical family so it's not like we have some big, flashing neon sign over our heads pointing us out. Much of our lives is still pretty average. We just have chosen to share the abundance of love that we possess with others who are receptive to it.

I hope to be able to give my input from time to time so that anyone reading this can have both perspectives of how this has been for us. It usually works better that way, especially when it comes to dancing. I have a really good story about the time we took dancing lessons, but that will be for another time.

Until next time...

The Snozberries taste like Snozberries

Sex and Love to me are like ice cream. A giant counter full of every flavor and every mix in you can dream up in an innumerable alternative combinations.

When J. and I go out for ice cream, I stand at the counter for ages overwhelmed with possibilities until finally I know exactly what it is I'm after. The perfect concoction of texture taste and color. I like to be daring and try new things, I also feel very attached to my particular favorites.


I can hear you now, "Yeah? Why should this interest me?" Well, maybe it shouldn't or doesn't but my point is a subject that came up for me and J after my last posting on Sunday. The issue was this:





"It's Sunday night, I'm laying around in my big ol bed reading, getting up every so often to surf the web and then under the covers again into my book and I think man I want to be fucked right now, I just want it and I want it the way he does it."





The question from him was why. When I get like that is it not just sex I'm after or sex from a particular person?



I have to admit when we have frank and open discussions about my love/relationship with Jack I have a tendency to get a little overly sensitive and defensive. Some moments I feel as if I'm walking a tight rope, trying my best to love freely with out harm to my soul-mate, my lover, my partner in this life. I wonder at times if this life we've been building with the inclusion of others is good for us. I wonder if we've not made a terrible mistake fucking randomly and loving intensely outside ourselves. When I'm old and at the end of my life here will I regret how I've handled this? Will I feel as if I've taken something priceless away from the one whom I promised to cleave to, forsaking all others? Yeah, I think about that. I promised My Sovereign to love only him for the rest of my life, 'till death do us part. What can I say to that? "Um, sorry God, this thing came up and it felt like a good idea at the time..."



The difficulty for me is that Jolyon and I were eachother's first, we lived mostly happy in monogamy for not quite twenty years only having the experience of eachother, romantically and sexually. Opening our marriage was something we took seriously, we've guarded or relationship like a bulwark. We discussed the "idea" of open sex for almost a year before we actually decided to act on it, then we were almost a year after that before we "did the deed" so to speak and it was official. So, when I start to talk details or make comparisons with J. there have been times when feeling on both sides have been unmercifully trampled, all in the name of "honesty and communication" the poly mantra.



Sex can be an amazing kaleidoscope of pleasure that is completely different with every person because of the energy and appetite of the people involved, it's not always about skill. So when I say I want Cake Batter ice cream with marshmallows and rainbow sprinkles it's not because Peanut butter ice cream with chocolate kisses is less satisfying. It's just not what I want at that moment.



I hate feeling like I'm being forced to choose which is the best, or that I have to apologise for wanting what I want when it happens to be different. I feel like J. thinks it's a betrayal and that keeps me questioning.




What am I doing?

Help me I'm horny...

I must be hormonal.

I've been beyond horny this weekend and thinking this is one of those times when it pays to be poly...

at least it should.

I get to see Jack and Marrianne regularly and over the last year, even with my hectic schedule at school we have all managed to dive in deeper in the intimacy pool. I've been spending the nights at their place and finding myself wanting to help with household chores and the kids, you know I told him one night at dinner, "I'm a wife Jack, it's what I do." I've even taken to calling him on several occasions my husband. "Hello, this is my husband Jack." I like it. I like the sound of it, but more than that it feels good and comfortable and like home. It's been interesting talking about it with my husband, Jolyon, this profound affection and attachment I have for Jack. There's only been a few times I think he's been jealous or hurt by something I inadvertently did or said. Where he felt left out or ignored. I'm glad we could work through it and give and understand one another in order to continue with this alternative thing we are doing with our lives now.

Anyway, as close as I am with Jack, as much as I truly feel that I could potentially be his second wife I find myself frustrated and a little selfish and self-centered tonight at not having my needs met. Of course it was a silly thing, a "let's read between the lines" kinda thing.

It's Sunday night, I'm laying around in my big ol bed reading, getting up every so often to surf the web and then under the covers again into my book and I think man I want to be fucked right now, I just want it and I want it the way he does it. So I text him.

"I wish you were here right now fucking me. I miss your body."

Surprisingly he answers within minutes,

"Use your fingers and think about me."

Nice.

So I text back,

"Thanks"

Only I'm thinking thanks for nothing. So later J. comes in to check on me and see what I'm up to, what I'm reading, if he can get me anything and I tell him about this conversation I just had and you know, he didn't get it either. "If it had been me," he says "I would have been there in ten minutes." and you know, I believe him. When he was dating his ex he was really into the sex, no matter what day or time he was there, gettin his groove on.

Anyway, just wanted to bitch. I've got four superfluous relationships and not one available to sex me up. Life just blows sometimes and not in a good way.