Saturday, 27 February 2016

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.

Sunday, 31 January 2016

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.

Tuesday, 19 January 2016

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.

Friday, 1 January 2016

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?

Friday, 25 December 2015

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.

Sunday, 13 December 2015

Swinging In Paradise: Desire Recap

Ah, Swingset Takes Desire.  It’s so hard to articulate what an experience it was, even after being home for over a month. I remember reading about last year’s trip before signing on for this year, and thinking it couldn’t really be the life-changing experience people touted it as being. I read the #ssdesire hashtag on Twitter and saw all the people who didn’t want to cut off their wristbands from the resort. ‘It’s just a vacation,’ I thought to myself. ‘Get over it.’


I was that person this year. At the risk of sounding like a shill for the company brand (and I should clarify that I paid the full cost for the vacation myself, not paid/discounted by either Swingset or Desire Resort and Spa), I have to say it’s not just a vacation. It is a life-changing experience.


We’re going again next year.


That is almost entirely due to the people we met. Swingsetters are something special. I had no idea I would be returning home with so many amazing new friends, and some connections that go well into crush/new relationship territory. Until this trip, we’d been poly in theory. Coming out of it, we’re ready to take more steps forward into that relationship style.


There’s really too much to put in a single post, so I’ll focus on a recap of the highlights of the trip. There was so much more learning about myself and Flick, about our relationship, and about our relationships with other partners than I would have ever imagined from a fuckation. But for now, let’s look at all the awesome.


We got in around 10pm the first night, which was tough because we missed all the first night festivities--welcome party, prize giveaways etc. We had a solo, quiet shuttle ride from the airport and I found myself kind of embarrassed to be going to such a place. ‘He knows we’re perverts,’ was the refrain in my head as we got closer and closer to the resort. Once we arrived, we didn’t care anymore. Our wonderful, sexy friends were waiting for us in the restaurant, and we felt extremely special as the concierge personally escorted us to the restaurant to meet them. After a quick kiss and cuddle, we scarfed some dinner before the restaurant closed, dumped our bags in our room, took a few deep breaths, and headed to the hot tub.


I felt a little self-conscious getting nude for the first time, but I saw naked bodies all around me, in all shapes and sizes. I took another deep breath, dropped my wrap, shoved it in a cubby, and headed to the tub, pretending it was the most normal thing in the world to be doing.  I floated over to a group of people and was soon wrapped in the arms of my sexy friend Will, getting introduced around, and making out like crazy because he and I hadn’t seen each other in months.


Flick and I had planned to just go visit for a little while in the tub--we’d been travelling for more than 12 hours on 2 hours sleep--but as soon as Will suggested he and I go play together on one of the nearby beds, I was suddenly energized. I checked in with Flick, who wished us well. There is often talk in hokey romance novels of the world disappearing when lovers kiss, but I have to say, the noise and music of the hot tub area simply vanished while Will and I were getting our sexy on, and it was a bit of a shock to notice it all again when we came up for air.


Will and I returned to the tub for a while and joined in conversations where I got to meet people I’d chatted with in the pre-Desire chats and had perved their pics on Kasidie.com. Several people didn’t recognize me until I introduced myself, which was a good reminder to do so instead of just smiling at people and wondering why they hadn’t said hi.  Still unable to keep our hands off one another, soon enough Will and I needed to return to the beds next to the hot tubs for another round, before more hot tub time and conversation.  Much later than expected, Flick and I headed to our room and slept deservedly well.


We spent the next morning lounging on a beach bed and connected with Peach and Mal, a couple we’d chatted with on Kasidie and were really looking forward to getting to know better. They were super sexy and super geeky, our favourite combination. Will also came by and before we knew it, Will had fetched Elle and the six of us were headed back to Peach and Mal’s room for our first ever orgy. Wheeee! This trip was off to a good start!


The day was full of conversation, sexy and otherwise, laughter, flirting, kissing, frolicking in the ocean, dancing, hot tub. I’d never spent this much time naked in front of people and most of the time, it felt effortless. I had a weird thing where I felt the need to wear clothing, even a fairly sheer wrap, as I went from place to place in the resort, but was fine being naked once I was settled somewhere. Brains are weird.


The next day was more of the same, beach bed, flirting, ocean, kissing, dancing, and a fun group dinner. I’d found my groove. It was so effortless and comfortable to be there. That night I got fingered on the edge of the hot tub by Wes and Will until I overheard people sitting below discussing their fear of getting ‘Gallaghered’ by my ejaculate. Turns out, it is challenging to come back to an orgasm while laughing hysterically at the visual of having to hand out plastic garbage bags to all nearby spectators.  


Flick and I partook in our second ever orgy and I had the pleasure of having the njoy eleven expertly wielded upon my person by Will, while surrounded by Flick, Elle, Wes, and Raina. 4 extra sets of eyes belonging to incredible, sexy people heightening every sensation, and after I’d orgasmed out, we broke into many delightful configurations, ending with me fingering Will to orgasm as the others surrounded, stroked, and sucked him. A perfect bookend to the beginning of the proceedings.


There was a foam party in the pool the next day, which was simultaneously the best and worst time ever. The resort was having trouble with the foam cannon, and must have kept adding more and more detergent because when it finally worked, the foam was thick, toxic, and burning on the eyes. It also created foam so tall that there was a risk of drowning or suffocation. We solved the problem (somewhat) with much ridiculous bouncing, and best-thing-ever three-way makeout sessions that created perfect pockets of air that felt happy and safe until you broke away and realized you were suffocating in foam. Still, much laughter and fun, and sexy slippery times ensued.  


We danced a bunch to the lobby band that evening, having a great time until I experienced my one and only moment on non-consensual touch when a drunken Swingsetter stroked my pasty-covered nipple without seeking permission. My nipples are a real red flag zone for me so that was especially not okay. He looked shocked and chagrined by my strong response, but later, I found myself beating myself up for not stopping him, instead of being angry for him assuming that I would stop him if I wasn’t okay with it. Enthusiastic yesses are what’s required for consent, not expecting someone to stop you if they don’t want the touch. That singular event was the only time I was touched without permission all week, which speaks to the overall awesomeness of Swingsetters and how clearly the message of the importance of consent has been embraced by the community as a whole. Celebrating not receiving bad touch says something about how messed up ideas of consent are in general society, but that’s a whole other topic.


That night brought the high school play party, which started out well for us, but quickly went downhill. You can read all the details in Swinging in the Deep End.


Coming up in Part Two: three person handjob, the live Life on the Swingset podcast, phone photo misinterpretation drama, my first time as a unicorn, using my words, more sexy shenanigans, and painful goodbyes.