Not Jealous? Not So Fast!

I often think that I’m not a jealous person because I feel such intense compersion when Flick is connecting with someone else in a sexy environment or when he’s fucking someone else, either in front of me or on a date. Hitting the 18-month mark on our non-monogamous relationship has taught me about a few jealous triggers that still get me.

Curse you, green-eyed monster!  I was so smug that I'd beaten you. Turns out you don't go down without a real fight.

When Flick is fucking or interacting sexually with a new partner, I'm so on board. Makes me incredibly hot to watch it. I have, in fact, orgasmed lying next to him at the exact moment he's entered someone else. But when Flick is lost to kissing or touching a new partner in a more casual setting--smooching someone else in line in the buffet at Desire Resort & Spa or coming across him making out with our girlfriend in the kitchen when they were supposed to be getting drinks--I am really surprised to feel hurt rather than wet.

That quiet intimacy is so much more painful than sexual intimacy somehow. And it's weird because I want him to feel connected and intimate with his partners. I love that our lifestyle gives him more of that intimate connection, especially as we become more polyamorous in our relationships. Maybe I just don't want to have to see it outside the bedroom because it reminds me that I tend to be affection-averse in public and it’s hard to see him with someone who isn’t. It also reminds me that some of his relationships are so much more than sexual and although it’s awesome, it is a little scary.

It’s tricky to have such paradoxical feelings. Instead of seeing public makeouts as a confirmation of a perceived ‘ice queen’ failure on my part, I want to be able to be glad he’s getting something he enjoys from someone who also enjoys it. I also want him and Iris to be able to enjoy a smooch when they want without feeling like they’re using ‘getting drinks’ as an excuse to sneak off and have fun without me.

My other main jealous trigger is when partners I have extremely limited time with are paying attention to other people in a play party situation or on a sensual, tropical, swinger vacation. We're all there to have a bunch of great experiences with many people so it only makes sense that they’d be engaging with others. It's just difficult to not feel that the other/new person is the preferred person, and that maybe my paramor isn't that into me after all, no matter how much evidence I have to the contrary.

It's easy to fall into the trap of worrying their affection for me might be displaced by their feelings or connection with someone else. I always have such a powerful jealous reaction to women I think are cooler than me, or seem a lot like me without all the crippling anxiety--like Kat 2.0 upgrade.

Although it's not impossible for a partner’s feelings to change in an instant, my fear of immediate replacement is pretty silly. I connect well with new people regularly, and it doesn’t change how I felt about my current people. It is also kind of insulting to the people I care for that I view their feelings as so changeable, and it’s pretty selfish to want to deny them the pleasure of sexy attention or experiences.

Monogamous thinking tells us that if something is shared, it is no longer valuable. It’s tells us the only true relationship or love is shared between two people, and if there is even a single blip of emotion or sexual connection for another, that relationship was a failure, a lie, or never 'real'. I don't believe that to be true at all, yet when someone I really like is smitten with another, I doubt our relationship, and wonder if what we have is ‘real’.

Most important for me to remember is that jealousy is only a feeling and it doesn’t have to mean anything more than any other feeling. It doesn’t even mean anything is wrong. It is most useful as a gauge as to whether my needs are being met. Not surprisingly, in the relationships where most of my needs are fulfilled, I feel the least jealous. When my needs aren’t being met, jealousy and it’s pal insecurity have a lot more power.

Focusing on getting those needs met rather than attempting to ‘cure’ myself of jealousy will go so much further in helping me experience the fulfillment, happiness, and sexy fun in my relationships.

After all, aren’t fulfillment, happiness, and sexy fun why we signed up for this wild ride?

Swinging in the Deep End Part 2: Anxiety Strikes Back

A recent trip to Portland to see a favourite long distance play partner found me in the midst of a giant play party linked to the local polyamory conference. I was very nervous about the party because I’d never been to anything like it before and I would also be attending with Will rather than Flick. Several days before I headed south I’d awoken to a feeling of dread and panic about the party but after talking through it with Will, I felt calmer and ready to tackle the challenge. Creeping into my brain regularly was the failure at the play party at Desire Resort & Spa in November, so wanted to get this one right. Spoiler alert: I didn’t get it right.

We were staying in the house where the party was located and Will and I discussed how we’d attend together. I’d be his date and we’d find some fun together, but as opportunities presented themselves, we’d play separately as well. I knew it was going to be tricky since I am much more insecure with people I don’t see often. Although I was excited for him to connect with people and have sexy experiences, I knew the jealousy thing would be more of a factor than it is with Flick, and it was. I felt extraneous and in the way of him finding fun so I pulled way back, and essentially avoided him. It was not the right call for me.

There are so many little pieces that contributed to the night turning into a disaster for me.

• I was in a new space in an unfamiliar city
• The party was huge and full of people I didn’t know
• The first guy I met was creepily sexual
• The ‘house’ rules for play were confusing with regards to where and how you could play - and then most people seemed to ignore the rules
• There was a speed meet-n-greet instead of relaxed welcome circle
• I was drained from peopling more than I normally do from previous 2 days
• We’d been running from event to event without time for adequate meals or downtime
• I felt insecure with regards to Will’s desire for me versus his desire for new experiences and new people.

I didn’t want to be sloppy drunk or unable to consent, so I watched my wine consumption a little too carefully, but I did a pretty good job of socializing at the beginning of the night. I chatted a bunch with people in the kitchen who I’d connected with the previous day and I expressed my clear interest in playing with someone who had been flirty over the course of the conference and he was an enthusiastic yes. I joined in as my group headed to the hot tub under the giant cedar trees outside and had an hour of fabulous conversation with new friends, but when we eventually headed back inside and I spotted Will with his arms around a gorgeous woman, panic began to set in. I had to get out of there.

I approached Will and his sexy companion, but instead of feeling like I’d be a welcome addition to their circle, like I belonged there, deserved to be there, I felt like an intruder, especially as she moved off almost immediately. I told Will I was feeling overwhelmed and was heading to our room, and asked him to check on me in a bit. He agreed to do so and we had a quick kiss before I essentially sprinted from the room.

This was the big opportunity to have done something very different and had a very different outcome than the panic attack spiral. Thanks to messing it up royally, though, I learned a valuable lesson, which should have been more obvious from the previous night when Will had bent me over the bed for a hard and fast fuck before we rushed off to dinner.

“Do you feel more centred?” he’d asked me as we quickly rearranged our clothes, hearing our host on the stairs.

“Oh yes!” I’d sighed happily, no longer in my head but relaxed and settled thoroughly in my body.

Unfortunately, in the midst of the play party, I didn’t have the wherewithal to ask Will to ‘Kiss me back into my body’ so I fled the room before my building panic became tears.

I dodged through the maze of bodies in the large open space outside our room and realized the lovely french doors did little to dampen sound. I put in earplugs then my headphones and watched a loud, silly movie to drown out conversation and moans. I felt so ridiculous hiding in the giant king size bed alone and let the tears come hard and fast. You’re a voyeur! I told myself If nothing else, go watch what other people are up to. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The panic was too strong for any sensible thoughts to cut through.

I took a sedative, figuring I could just knock myself out, but unfortunately, all that did was knock me out for long enough to be asleep when Will to checked on me, so I didn’t realize he had, and when the movie ending woke me up, I saw the time and was all hurt that he hadn’t checked in. He probably did while you were sleeping and didn’t want to wake you. You know there’s no way he’d abandon you, my sensible brain told me. I’m all alone. Why doesn’t anyone want to be with me? Anxious spiral brain countered. You’re the one that is hiding. How can anyone be with you while you’re hiding?

Many more tears ensued until my need to pee overrode my fear of running the gauntlet of bodies outside my door. I even eyed the travel mug next to the bed rather than risking the dreaded world outside my room but apparently not peeing in a cup trumped risking people. I could hear Will and a woman chatting so I crept out, seeing him lying back on the couch as one of the gorgeous gals I’d been perving on all weekend knelt on the floor before him. They spotted me and called out but my face was so tear streaked, I sprinted to the bathroom before they could really see me. I heard them complimenting my robe and talking about how cute I am as I closed the door behind me and began to weep so hard I thought I might vomit. What the fuck is wrong with you? They’re into you. Go out there and join them. Nope.

Bladder emptied, face washed temporarily free of tears but quickly gaining new ones, I arranged my hair over my eyes and hoped I could get back into the room before they saw me.

“Kat. She was just talking about you,” Will said with a smile, but I just couldn’t. I laughed a ‘sure she was’ laugh and closed the door behind me on his, “Okaaaaayy.”

Now they hate you. Great job.

The weeping turned to wailing at this point so I put a pillow over my head to dampen the sound, though the blaring music would likely have covered any noise I could have made. Cut this out. You haven’t ruined everything. They want you there. Get over yourself! All the Nope! I shouldn’t have come. What was I thinking telling myself I could do this? I can’t do this! I have to cancel all of our upcoming trips including Desire, and break up with all my partners, because clearly I’m not cut out for non-monogamy. I’m so alone!

When Will came to bed I was cried out and the panic had abated enough that I had dozed on and off. We snuggled for a bit but once he fell asleep and rolled over I was left to my thoughts in the giant bed. We talked the next morning, and had some good connected time during our final day together, but both of us were kind of quiet and subdued. My brain was lying when it said that I wrecked everything between us but it definitely changed things.

I’ve revisited the events of the evening over and over and over (and over) in my brain, trying to figure out how to fix it all. Alas, fixing past fuck ups isn’t possible, but I did learn some important lessons.

If I am going to an event with someone other than Flick, I need to ensure we have a clear plan for connecting with each other and talk about it in detail, and check in regularly. If I’d done so with Will and been reassured of his desire to spend time with me and play with me with others, I wouldn’t have been as primed for panic as I was when things began to go off.

“Anchor me!” This is the phrase I’ve come up with to ask a trusted someone to help me get back into my body, either through kissing or biting (or perhaps even fucking if that is an appropriate option). I’m going to teach it to my various partners as an anxiety safeword. For situations where my closer partners aren’t around, I’m planning to use the phrase, “Kiss me back into my body” to request assistance to derail the panic spiral.

Failing agonizingly hard at the play party was yet Another Fucking Opportunity for Growth. I keep hoping I won’t have to learn these lessons so painfully, but it’s the painful ones that stick. If there’s any chance anyone else can learn from my fuckups, even better. Sharing is caring.

Guys are like Ah and Gals are like Oo

“being bisexual and having different feelings when ur attracted to guys than when u are to girls is so hard to explain bc being attracted to a guy is like “ah” and being attracted to a girl is like “oo” but that doesn’t make any sense to anyone but me” - http://decaheda.tumblr.com/post/124272551727/being-bisexual-and-having-different-feelings-when

I don’t know how to flirt with women.

From what I understand, this is a very typical experience for pan/bisexual women who have mostly dated men. Our heteronormative sex and dating lives don’t teach us the skills to connect with women beyond friendship. Everything we’re exposed to in media and culture also emphasizes how different men and women are in our communication and sexual desires, and although I really appreciate direct sexual advances, I’ve been taught that other women don’t. Maybe that’s not true, though, but I don’t have enough experience to know better.

I’ve always been into women. Well, as long as I’ve known it was a thing for me to be possible to be into, I’ve known. And thinking back to my childhood of sneaking into my older brother’s room to look at the porno mags in his closet and get especially titillated by the gal on gal action, I was into women before I knew it was a thing.

Growing up in a small town in northern Canada I’d heard the term lesbian whispered by schoolmates but knew it didn’t apply to me because I liked boys. Boy, did I like boys! Clearly I wasn’t a lesbian, so I didn’t think anything of those ‘feelings’ I had. I had a lot of stirrings in my late teens/early twenties but it wasn’t until Flick and I started dating, and he was so open to me sharing my fantasies, that it became something I talked about, and the word bisexual* came into play.

*Little note here that I tend to use the term pansexual now, since gender is not binary, and I know many bisexuals say that the term bisexual means ‘more than one sex’, but the pedant in me can’t help but argue that Bi means two! Anyway, I’m cool with people using whatever term fits for them, pansexual is my preference. I was oblivious of the sexual/gender politics of all this until last year, when I burst forth from my monogamy bubble, and described myself as bisexual until very recently.

Flick was open enough to support me exploring with women in the early days of our marriage since we’d paired up so young that I hadn’t had the opportunity or confidence to do said exploration before we met. I spent a few nights with a couple equally curious friends, and it was fun and lovely and sexy, but once I’d settled the craving for the unknown, established that yes, I did like sex with women, but it wasn’t something I couldn’t live without, it was back to monogamy as usual.

When we opened up last year, it started with a threesome with one of our friends. It was awesome, so sexy, and I was really into being with her, but switching back to platonic when we weren’t in the bedroom has been effortless. The same goes with the other women we’ve played with. I think they’re super sexy, we have a great time enjoying each other’s bodies, but it’s never gone beyond that. I figured that was my level of queer--into sex with women but nothing beyond that.

I’ve definitely met a few women that I’m quite smitten with *waves at Elle and Raina*, but I find I’m kind of intimidated by them, and my brain goes into this “Pretty! *giggle* Can’t. Talk.” shutdown mode, and I haven’t figured out how to break through. If we went out on a date, I would have no idea what to say. I just don’t know how to talk or flirt with the ladies.

I tried going on a date with a woman from okcupid when Flick and I first opened up last year. It seemed to go fairly well, but she wasn’t into me so I concluded I was bad at women and decided not to pursue any further female dating connections. As everyone knows, if you fail once, you never ever try again. I’m pretty sure that’s the common theme in most Life Success handbooks... Anyway, I decided that although I was pansexual, I must be heteroromantic when it came to relationships. Men I was good at. I’d stick with men.

My whole paradigm shifted recently when I met Iris.

We met through the dating website Kasidie after Cooper Beckett, wingman extraordinaire, pointed her our direction. After the usual schedule wrangling, and delays due to the holidays, we met for drinks in our default date pub, and within an hour, the three of us were making out at the table as the rest of the patrons played Trivia Night around us. I felt a spark with her that I haven’t experienced with a woman before, enough of a spark to tamp down my discomfort with makeout level PDAs.

Our first sexy date occured under the cloud of all three of us suffering from an horrific cold virus. The sexual charge was strong enough that we decided we’d go ahead with the date anyway, and despite sore throats and hacking coughs, we had a spectacular time, and planned immediately for our next.  

In between our dates, Iris and I flirted and sexted like crazy, in a way I never have with a woman (Iris and Flick did as well, but that was much more typical for our fmf dynamic). It felt easy, in a way it doesn’t normally when I’ve tried to flirt with women, perhaps because she was flirting with me at least as much. I send saucy pics back and forth with the other gals I play with, and we chat, but this is the first time I’ve received messages in the middle of my day from a woman saying she was thinking about the taste of my pussy. Um, sploosh!

Our next sexy date was even hotter, day sex at our place with the added frisson of knowing we were having vanilla people over for a party that evening after debauching all afternoon. She made me come with her mouth mere minutes into the proceedings while I sucked Flick’s cock, and the vision of her looking up at me, come dripping from her chin, streaking down her chest is going to be spankbank material for a long time.

I can’t quantify what is different with Iris, and I guess interpersonal chemistry is one of those things that is about as un-quantifiable as it gets, despite me always seeking to figure out the whys of attraction. She’s amazing--beautiful, smart, funny, and sexy--but so are the other women I play with. For some reason though, I have feelings toward her that have previously been reserved for guys. I can see us out on solo dinner dates, holding hands as we walk down rainy streets, and having solo playdates, as well as the awesome time we have as a trio with Flick.

It’s confusing and new and scary but awesome, and I’m so glad that this non-monogamy adventure has given me the opportunity to experience yet another first, my first real requited feels for a woman. I love that I’m getting to explore new pieces of my sexuality and queer identity, with Iris as catalyst.

If you need me, I’ll be over here, sexting and squeeing, and getting ready for where this journey might take me next.

Coming Out Open: The Cost of the Closet

The Cost of the Closet: Coming Out Open

"So what have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Work, the usual..."

I had dinner scheduled with a close vanilla friend, and the thought of having to have this conversation yet again filled me with dread. I couldn’t do it anymore and after much agonizing, decided I had to come out to her about the change in Flick’s and my relationship.

Flick and I have been keeping our non-monogamous status mostly to ourselves over the past year, but I hate keeping a piece of me locked away from people I really care about.  It drove our conversations to a superficial place we could never break through.

I would have been comfortable sharing our new relationship status from the get go. I'm an open book (TMI, who me?) and my exhibitionism comes through my words as well as my willingness to share my body. I'm also nosy as hell, but almost never ask people questions, which can come across as disinterest, because I think that people, like me, will volunteer any information I should know. This has never (read: this has totally) caused confusion/problems in relationships. Flick was much more concerned with keeping things to ourselves, worried about the judgements of our friends and family (then in a fun twist, began telling people much sooner than I did).  

Thus began my year of, "You know, the usual...," which really meant pulling away from our social circle.

Pulling away had been made easier by our closest friends having a baby then moving to Scandinavia just as Flick and I had our gateway threesome. Several other friends were also in baby-mode or had new jobs so it was a natural time for our relationships to shift.

As I dug into the completely new-to-me world of online dating (didn't really exist pre-1994, the last time I was dating) my time was consumed by profiles and photos, figuring out what Flick and I wanted, considering rules and guidelines, and messaging with strangers who wanted to have sex with me. Oh, and having lots and lots of sex. Wheeee!

Something I didn't consider during this maelstrom of new was the cost of my closet to the people on the other side of the door. I'd been in my bubble of New Lifestyle Energy and hadn't thought about what it might be like for someone watching the snapshots of my life on social media shift so dramatically, showing my life was anything but "the usual" I was describing.

Most of the close friends that I've told about our non-monogamy have been surprised, but then immediately jumped to how it wasn't for them--I barely have the energy for one relationship--or asked the usual questions about jealousy or falling in love.  

When I finally decided to ovary up and tell my dear friend over dinner recently, her response was tears. But they were tears of relief for me letting her back into my life.

"I saw you had all these new friends and were going on vacations with them and had this whole new life and I thought I was losing you. I love you both and if this is what makes you happy, I'm happy for you."  We held hands and wept together over our dinners.

I'd been so nervous to tell her since she's been single for a long time and I felt like she'd think I was selfish for having a loving husband AND dating. Like I was stealing all the menfolk, even though I only date open people and she only dates single guys. Plus I knew she'd had a lot of creepers contacting her for threesomes online just because she’s a single woman and I worried she'd lump us in with the people I’ve heard her complaining about.

Basically, I locked her out of my life so she couldn't lock me out of hers.

Turns out, she wasn’t surprised or upset by my revelation, and it was such a relief for both of us to chat openly about what has really been going on in my life. I got to tell her about some of my relationships and have her gush over giddy feelings for new people in my life and commiserate over the very real challenges of non-monogamy. I felt so much lighter when we left the restaurant and so did she. We had a real friendship back.

It was a great lesson to learn as Flick and I enter the 2nd year of our adventure. The closet appears to offer protection (and is essential for people who live in places where their jobs or kids could be put at risk if they were out) but that protection comes with costs. There is risk in being open about being open, but the reward is a return to authentic connection with long-term friends.  I need that and I’m so glad to have it back in my life.

Epiphany

I am special

I am awesome

I am beautiful

I am funny

I am sexy

I am weird

I am dorky

I am unique

I am amazing

I needed to create a list of things to say to myself to counter the messages I get from my brain telling me otherwise. It's a good list. And I'm proud to say that I believe the list. Most of the time.

If someone doesn't want me despite all those truths, it's not because I'm not _____ enough.  It is because of his preconceived ideas of what he wants, not any failing on my part. Much like auditioning for an acting job, I could totally kill the audition, but if I'm not exactly what he's looking for, I'm not booking the part.

In the past, I've done a lot of wallowing in the 'poor me' feels of the song 'I'm not that girl' from Wicked, but I've come to realize it isn't true. I AM that girl. He's not the right boy.

'Don't lose sight of who you are' is one of the sections of lyric that I've always taken to heart--don't kid yourself, you're not special enough, he might like you but he'd never pick you. My brain is an asshole!  But I've taken that lyric and reframed it and owned it. 

I won't lose sight of who I am. I won't cling to things that are LESS than I deserve.

I'm not that girl.

Swinging in Paradise - Desire Recap Part 3

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The Stress of Evolution

The Stress of Evolution

Recently, I've been exploring a little more into the realm of polyamory, rather than the Friends With Benefits (sexyfriends) relationships I've primarily had since Flick and I opened our relationship just over a year ago. I was looking for a little more connection than I was getting from my sexyfriends, but in a classic case of careful what you wish for I'm finding it...stressful.

There are so many awesome things about a closer connection with my partners. I really like chatting daily and knowing the minutia of what they're up to. I dig being part of their lives rather than getting the Cole's notes version (er, Cliff’s notes for American readers) every few weeks, but with that, I'm feeling the obligation to be engaged and engaging. I get the feeling that maybe I'm supposed to want more than I do, more chat time, more skype time, more date time.

With my sexyfriends we chat every few days to week to weeks. Once I realized it wasn't a sign of disinterest, I settled really well into that low-pressure type of communication. The occasional check in, saying hi when we felt like it, sending dirty pics, sexting a little, briefly finding out what was happening in their world, and setting up a meet where we get to talk about it in person, after the naked time.

With my poly partners I'm constantly trying to come up with interesting things to talk about and on days where I'm not up to being social, I get stressed about either trying to fake being a social being, or having to explain that I'm just not in a social space that day, followed up by reassurances of my interest. It’s kind of exhausting and I'm sure my partners are sick of hearing about my anxiety and introversion, but I feel like I need to regularly remind them that my wiring leads me to need to be alone a lot.

It always gets a lot worse when I'm feeling overextended and that has been what has felt like my permanent state of being recently. I can't seem to figure out how to truly get myself unwound, though I do yoga and meditation and copious masturbation. My "down time" alone time is often filled with tasks or communication, so I keep seeking more alone time to try to find that elusive recharge that I'm supposed to get from peace and quiet.

It may also just be that the poly thing is new, and I always freak out as my initial reaction to anything new before I'm able to find my way to acceptance and enjoyment. I haven't done it before and I don't know how to do it, and I don't do well when I don’t feel like I know what I'm doing. My partners have been really understanding and keep assuring me that going at my pace is okay, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm doing it all wrong.

I’m also so focused on doing it all with a healthy, accepting mindset even when I feel burdened or jealous or heartbroken by circumstances that come up in my relationships. I’m trying so hard to behave like an enlightened, grown-ass woman, when sometimes I want to throw such a wobbly, make unreasonable demands, and go on a rampage over the unfairness that is inevitable when you share partners with other people. (Lana, I said it was going to be a rampage!)

Maybe I've just taken on too many things. With two jobs, a business to run, a house to keep from falling to pieces, and a marriage to keep fun and sexy and supportive and healthy, maybe I need to give myself a break and not attempt to dive so quickly and deeply into the style of relationship that requires 'more'. The thing is, I really like the guys I'm seeing here and long distance, which drives me to want to provide the intense connection they're looking for.

Though as I typed out the last line, I realize that what they're looking for is a version of me who is happy and relaxed and who is really present when we have time together, and who is able to express when she needs to grab some more space for herself to help all the above happen.

Goddamn it! I'm going to have to use my words again, aren't I?

Swinging in Paradise: Desire Recap - Part 2

Wednesday was a tough day. I’d been pretty shaken by the previous night, but did my best to bounce back. I was also really sick by this point and had barely slept the entire trip (I get terrible insomnia when I travel). I had some sort of digestive bug before I’d even left home, and being in Mexico did NOT help matters. I was very excited about the events of the day -- pegging demo and flogging demo -- so I took a bunch of medicine and rallied to keep going.

After the pegging demo I stuck around to snuggle Cooper with Ophilia and Raina. Flick was off to the flogging demo and I was really torn--stick around to support and pleasure my friend or go watch something I really wanted to learn more about with Flick. I knew I’d feel guilty either choice, but I was snuggled and happy so chose to stay, and had a great time when snuggle time turned into three of us giving him a triple handjob. Although I did my best to fight it, my brain was constantly pinging that I was doing something wrong, and also that they might have wanted someone other than me to be there.  

As we wrapped up, I headed into the flogging demo and chatted about my distress with Flick, who off-handedly mentioned I hadn’t gotten to enjoy either thing. That hit me really hard and as I began to get emotional, all my insecurities of the week swept in coupled with frustration with the anxiety that ruins many experiences for me, and I had to race back to the room before the tears hit.

Flick came back to our room after the demo and found me crying my face off, we cuddled and chatted. He was having a lot of jealousy issues of his own, both about my connection with Will, and feeling insecure about how strong his feelings were for Peach, and his shyness getting in the way of putting himself forward with her.

We had dinner that night with a sexy, young couple we’d been spending a lot of casual time with but hadn’t had much of a chance to chat with in a more intimate setting. It was nice to focus on only two people, after having spent entirely too much of our day in our heads and emotional selves. We danced and socialized after dinner then headed to the hot tub.

That night Wes and I decided to split off from the crowd for some one on one time. We chatted for a couple hours lying on one of the beds nearby, both surprised with how quickly one could form an intense bond in the setting at Desire, and then segued into some extremely hot fucking. When I returned to the tub, wobble legged, I couldn’t see Flick. I looked around at all the various thrusting asses on nearby beds, but none of them belonged to him.

A little panicked I headed back to our room, worried that my disappearing for so long with Wes was an issue for my sweetie. Turns out, he wasn’t upset about my shenanigans but was feeling really lousy about his own lack of confidence. He’d been spending time chatting with Peach and a way more confident guy literally put himself bodily between Flick and Peach, and grabbed her attention away. This part of Flick always surprises me, since he’s so much more naturally social than me, I forget how shy he really is. We talked for ages, dazed and frustrated by what an emotional day it had been.

Thursday morning we met up with Mal and Peach and decided to get together for a foursome in the late morning. I love daytime sex! They’re such a sexy couple and we had an amazing time, though we had to cut things a little short to grab lunch before the Swingset and Gentle Perverts Social Club live podcast recordings. There’s a great moment in the live Swingset podcast when I shut down Dylan’s brain by taking off my top. For an attention whore, you wouldn’t have thought I’d blush bright red and try to slide under my seat when all eyes turned my way, but I really didn’t think anyone was looking at me when I had gotten overheated and removed a layer.

After the outstanding tassel twirling class that followed all the chatting, Flick showed off his wingman skills to kickstart a sexy date between me and the cute guy from dinner the night before. “Maybe you should show him our room.” “Um, would you like to see our room?” He did.

The sexy shenanigans continued that night when I had my first opportunity to act as unicorn. We’d been flirting for several days with a couple and the sexual tension was really building that evening as we all danced in the lobby bar. Flick wasn’t feeling up for a sexy date, but he kept working his wingman skills and encouraged the three of us to go have a great time.

Liana and Aiden were unlike any of the other couples we met. Their energy, although incredible and sexy, was also gentle and we had a wonderful, tender night full of firsts for all three of us. I learned, amongst other things, to tuck the straps of my harness into the waistband so they don’t tickle my partner’s feet. We went to join the fun and conversation in the hot tub afterwards as a lovely denouement to the evening.

I woke Friday morning, the final full day of the trip, to the sound of Flick clicking his phone’s home button. I’d had another terrible night’s sleep and was all bleary eyed as I rolled over. I caught glimpse of an image on his phone that I swore was Peach in a Life on the Swingset shirt, no bottoms, gazing all sexy at the camera.

I was devastated.

The previous day during the podcast, Cooper had mentioned a Swingsetter sending such a photo to the podcast, and I was sure he was talking about me. When I glimpsed the photo, I realized he might not have been talking about me. Maybe I was only one of many women who’d done so. I’d considered putting my hand up during the podcast to take ownership of the act, and as I thought about it, I had this visceral experience of the humiliating feeling of what it would have been like if I’d been all, ‘that was me’ and Copper had said, ‘oh yeah, I forgot that you did that too.’ I staggered to the washroom and sat weeping on the toilet for about 10 minutes with a washcloth over my mouth so Flick wouldn’t hear.

When I got myself together, I went back into the bedroom and asked Flick to see the photo of Peach.

“What photo?” he asked.

I was furious! “The photo of Peach in the Swingset shirt! The one you were looking at when you woke me up.”

“Uh, that was a photo of Star in a Janus Cat shirt.” He pulled up photo and showed me the photo of his paramour from home.

My brain is such an asshole. They don’t even look alike. There was no reason to believe she wasn’t wearing pants. I’d just tortured myself for about a quarter of an hour, felt so upset I thought I might puke, and it wasn’t even real. Fuck.

I was in such rough shape that day I could barely eat, but it was our last day, dammit! Took a bunch of ginger, choked down a protein bar, and snuggled with Flick on the beach bed. We went for a sail with Mal, and the sea breeze felt wonderful. I sat in on the Ending the Sexual Darkage podcast while Flick grabbed lunch. I hadn’t spent nearly as much time as I’d expected to exploring the kinky events during the week, so it was awesome to peek in on that crew and hear some of their stories.

I caught up with Will after the podcast and he invited me back to his room while he checked-in to his flight. We chatted as he did his thing online, talked about a bunch of our experiences during the week, and the various feelings that had been cropping up. Elle popped in to grab gear for the foam party, but he and I decided to stay in. I ended up going back to my room to grab a bottle of massage oil and gave him a massage, then the naked cuddling led to a blow job, and a gentle fuck, since I felt too ill for anything more vigorous.

It was a great way to solidify our connection at the end of the trip, since it had been a couple days since we’d had any one on one time, and I’d finally figured out how essential that is for me to feel secure with a partner. At home I date solo almost exclusively, and all the group sex, though amazing(!!!) is a completely different experience, and I’d been feeling pretty insecure (evidenced by crazytown beginning of that morning).

When we felt up to moving again we grabbed a bite of lunch (food finally seemed like a good plan instead of punishment) and going to the wine social before parting ways for the rest of the day. Feeling more secure, I was almost a person again. I’d survived the worst of the Desire crucible!

Coming up in Part 3 (final part) - More Friday sexytimes, Slave Leia gets funky, and saying goodbye to paradise.