The Incredibly Wet Journey

I had no idea until very recently that I am a squirter. It wasn’t something that had ever come up in partnered sexual experiences or solo play. When I’d heard it talked about, I figured it was something that you either could or couldn’t do, like rolling your tongue (can’t) or liking cilantro (also can’t, yuck! why would you sprinkle soap on your food?!). If it was something I was capable of, you’d have thought it would have come up at some point in the previous twenty-six years of my sex life.

The change began (along with so many awesome thing in my sex life) with Dan Savage. I was getting my perve, er, education on listening to his Savage Lovecast and heard one Cooper S. Beckett chatting about swinging. This led me to track down the Life on the Swingset Podcast, and his book My Life On the Swingset: Adventures in Swinging and Polyamory, where I read the epic tales of the njoy Eleven dildo.  I must have it!, I thought and rushed to the njoy website, where I discovered the price tag. I must have the less expensive model!, I thought, seconds later, and hauled out my credit card to order the Pure Wand.

I really just thought I was ordering an awesome new toy. I have a decent toy collection but I’m always excited to try things that come highly recommended, and when I held the cool metal curve of the Pure Wand in my hands about a week later, I had no idea what I was in for (or I’d have put down some towels).

Within about 5 minutes of using the toy, I felt an irresistible need to bear down against it, and then felt a crazy sensation as fluid started gushing out of me. It wasn’t anything like a clitoral orgasm, but it felt really nice, and really wet. “Holy Shit! I just squirted!” was the text that went out to my husband and the fella I was sexting at the time. After I stripped my sheets to launder, I was back online to order a waterproof Liberator Fascinator Throe to protect surfaces from my new skill.

Things progressed from me ejaculating only with the Pure Wand to it happening with other toys with any sort of g-spot curve to them. Then an intrigued play partner got very inquisitive with his long fingers and made me gush repeatedly one evening. The more it happened, the more likely it seemed to happen, and I started packing a Throe with me anytime I had a date outside the house, as well as ordering a second one to cover the couch when I had dates at home (much easier than having to haul it with me from room to room).

Once I figured out what it felt (and sounded) like just before, I started getting a little too results-focused and that would often kill any potential release. Relaxing, and enjoying the build of sensations was much more effective in getting me there. I’ve also had partners who’re entirely too fascinated with my ability and hammer away relentlessly at my poor g-spot until I’m begging for mercy (and left pretty sore the next day).

Recently, there seems to be a cascade effect that happens, much like multiple orgasms. If a toy or a partner has set me off a few times, I start having deep waves of spasm and continue to fountain with only clitoral stimulus, or sometimes, without any stimulus at all. It’s starting to feel more profoundly pleasurable as well, regularly causing me to burst into a bout of hysterical laughter or tears related to the intense release.

Occasionally, I’ve gone off unexpectedly, like when Hot Mama was fucking me with her lovely Feeldoe and got hosed down as we played in a club one night. I’d thought that the curved shape of dildo or fingers was an essential part of stimulating the Skene’s glands to produce the fluid until this week when I was being thoroughly fucked (for the third(!) time that afternoon) by a delightful young partner (with almost no refractory period), and I went off like a geyser all over him. It was the first time I’ve squirted in response to good old-fashioned PIV, and it looks like I’m going to have to make sure I warn future partners that it’s a possibility.

And perhaps buy stock in Liberator, since I’m probably going to want to order a few more Throes.

Scheduling Woes

Scheduling is possibly the most complicated thing about my open relationship, and very likely, it's the same across most open relationships. Between working a couple jobs, hobbies, appointments, my husband's dates, and social events with our 'mundane' friends, trying to schedule my dates is an exercise in juggling and judicious use of a shared google calendar.

Add the spouses and partners of said dates into the equation, it’s amazing anyone ever gets laid.

So when the spouse of one of my partners doesn’t co-operate, and insists that he and I only get playdates when she has a date, it adds another level of challenge. When she blows up our date because hers fell through, that’s simply not cool.

When Flick and I decided that solo dating was something we wanted to explore in our opening up process, I’d thought it would be easier to date other people in open relationships because they’d understand a lot of the challenges inherent to the lifestyle. I'd assumed it would go more smoothly, but that isn’t always the case.

I’m pretty adaptable and laid back. In fact, I’m a total pleaser and will bend backwards to make things easier for others. I understand that it’s challenging to plan things, since I’m in the same boat, but after every date with one particular partner has been rescheduled, changed, and/or shortened many times, it starts to feel like it’s not worth the effort. In the past, I’ve just rolled with it, but when the most recent playdate became a maybe-just-drinks date, then a definitely-just-drinks date including the spouse who’d blown up our playdate plans, I’d had enough.

I wasn’t willing to go sit across the table with the person who was fucking with my night and my sex life, and not in the good way. My husband had a date scheduled to come to the house that night, so I needed to clear out for the entire evening. When coffee or a drink was offered in lieu of a night of great sex, I was pissed right off. At least if dinner and a walk was on offer, something that would take a similar amount of time to a playdate, I might have felt differently.

So I opted out. I decided I’d rather spend the evening elsewhere, even if that was by myself having dinner, reading, writing, or whatever, rather than try to make conversation with the two of them when I was hurt and angry. It felt rude to insist that only he and I went out, which was one of his offers, rather than the three of us, so I didn't feel comfortable doing that. It is a bit of a peek into my psyche that despite being hurt and angered by someone else’s selfish demands, I didn’t want to seem selfish or rude to her.

Since I needed to be out of the house, I messaged another fella I’ve been chatting with online and enquired if he’d be able to meet for a drink and a meal. We’d tried a few times to make plans without success--due to complicated scheduling--but he was free that night so we met up and had a lovely first date drinking beer and chatting.

The evening worked out as well as I could have hoped for, but I’m left with a dilemma about future plans with Mr. Yoyo. I’m trying to decide if it’s worth the effort of making plans when nearly every one of our dates so far has had to be changed. He and I have had some really hot, satisfying sex, and we have had good times hanging out platonically on our own, and with our spouses as a foursome. I don’t want to throw away the friendship with a couple who is open and understands living a bit of a double life, but I’m not sure if it’s worth continuing the sexual relationship when I’m often left feeling fairly disposable.

Yet I also feel torn because she’s his wife, his primary, and her needs should be most important to him. I want my needs to be most important to my husband as well, and I know if I needed him, I could ask him to cancel his date, but I’d only use that in an extreme circumstance. I think that she takes advantage of this primacy by using her veto for non-emergency situations. I know she is not completely comfortable with his dating, despite their having been open since the beginning of their relationship, but I think she needs to be in or out. Agreeing, then messing with his dates doesn’t seem like the loving thing to do.

And if it only affected my date and I, that would be one thing, but in open relationships, one cancelled date can cascade down a line affecting multiple people. Mrs. Yoyo’s date falls through, cancelling Mr. Yoyo & me. If I’d done the same, that would have affected Flick and his date Hot Mama, which would have affected her husband and so on.

I understand that there are complicated feelings related to your spouse dating and fucking other people. Just because I get a lot of compersion from setting up the bedroom for Flick--making sure the bed is made up with the Liberator Throe; condoms and lube in easy reach; clean towels in the bathroom--it doesn’t mean I’m immune to jealousy over knowing he’s having really special experiences without me. I feel it and accept it as part of the price of living the amazing, fulfilling life we share. A price I gladly pay.

There's a good chance I need to make sure I only play with partners whose spouses/primaries feel the same way.

Hands Off!

I'm a big fan of touch. In fact, I like touch so much, I touch people for a living. I'm a hugger. I love getting my hair washed at the salon, I love spa treatments and massage therapy. I love my body touching other bodies when we chat, when we dance, when we fuck. I even enjoy the occasional inappropriately close brush of a body against mine in a busy nightclub or bar. But even if we've been incredibly intimate previously, I don't want you touching me intimately if I haven't given you permission in that specific situation!

And I really hate that I'm going to have to use my words to make that clear. Using my words is hard!


I'm a conflict avoider from way back. Making things tidy and easy (for everyone else) is what I do best. It's probably partially due to my anxiety - taking responsibility for everything regardless of whose responsibility it really is, coupled with not really believing that I deserve to ask to be treated the way I want to be treated. As a woman, I've been socialized to defer to men, to let their needs be more important than mine (there are potentially violent ramifications to non-compliance with that patriarchal trope, which has been made even more clear over the past year and more with the rampant online misogyny, but I probably digress).

So why is it so hard for me to tell someone not to touch me like that? Maybe I feel guilty because although we'd played previously, I'm not really into doing it again, and I haven't ovaried up to telling him that reality. And his lack of appropriate boundaries isn't a small part of that lack of desire to let him back in my pants.

I really like his partner and would be very happy to have a friendship with the two of them. They're cool and interesting and great to talk to about the lifestyle, but I'm leery of putting myself within hands reach.