tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67246605634968142002024-03-19T15:28:42.476-07:00On The Wet CoastKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-59132069010053141952016-05-29T17:03:00.000-07:002016-05-29T13:07:40.709-07:00Not Jealous? Not So Fast!<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-ab68fac8-fe1f-51ca-5e0f-0b835f167118" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">see it</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> 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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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’.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After all, aren’t fulfillment, happiness, and sexy fun why we signed up for this wild ride?</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-84806602048183800172016-05-13T18:47:00.000-07:002017-05-13T18:48:03.095-07:00I Love You. It's No Big Deal.I am feeling way too much at present for someone who is not interested in feeling the same way about me. I know he cares about me. He has even said that he adores me, but he wants to keep an emotional distance due to our physical distance.<br />
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I get that. It's hard not to pine for someone when the feelings are strong but you can't be together regularly. But somehow the distance would feel easier to me if I felt really secure in what his feelings for me were. I really should be able to simply hear the words he's said and accept them as meaning what they mean, but then I don't hear from him for a few days and all the old doubts are back.<br />
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I think my insecurity is related to the imbalance of feelings between us. I'm in love with him and sometimes that love feels like it's destroying me. Feeling it, but keeping it to myself is its own special level of hell. Other days, I'm able to have the emotional distance that I can feel my love for him and simply enjoy it. It's nice to be in love. Except when it fills me with despair.<br />
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I have such a fear of letting him know my true feelings. I know he doesn't want it. He specifically told me at one point not to tell him I love him or we'd need to have a serious talk about where our relationship was headed. It was said as if in jest, but I know it wasn't entirely in jest, and I'm pretty sure he'd run if he knew my true feelings. It feels more loving not to put that on him, though there are days when I'd love to just put it out there, slam my hand down on that big red button, and see what's left when the smoke clears.<br />
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There's a great article by Carsie Blanton talking about casual love - <a href="http://blog.carsieblanton.com/post/82149148832/casual-love" target="_blank">http://blog.carsieblanton.com/post/82149148832/casual-love</a>. The idea is that if love weren't this big deal, this life-altering event, we could fall in love without so much of the drama attached to what can be an awesome feeling. <b>I love you. It's no big deal. </b><br />
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These two paragraphs speak to me like crazy. <span style="font-family: inherit;">"<strong style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px;">The big advantage for the lover</strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 24px;"><i> is that falling in love will feel less scary, life-threatening, and crazy-making... If we interpret this particular set of feelings and thoughts as an epic, life-changing event, we’ll have no choice but to get really, really attached to our beloved. We’ll throw a lot of expectations at them (“Love me back! Love me only! Love me forever!”), and feel hurt and resentful if the feeling is not mutual.</i>"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 24px;">"</span></span><i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;">The big advantage for the beloved</strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;"> is that being loved will feel less like an attack, and more like a gift. The little-discussed fact is that it’s super uncomfortable to be loved when the feeling is not mutual</span></span></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">...We panic, we get distant, we deny any interest or care for the other person, we stop returning their texts. But that’s not an aversion to love, or to the lover; it’s the attachment and expectation being hurled in our direction with such intensity. If love was casual, we could take it as a high compliment, say “thanks!”, and feel some warm fuzzies.</span></i><span style="font-family: "lato" , sans-serif;">"</span></span>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-83376091915346403342016-05-05T09:58:00.000-07:002016-05-05T09:58:48.460-07:00Swinging in the Deep End Part 2: Anxiety Strikes Back<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 <a href="http://www.lifeontheswingset.com/22804/swinging-in-the-deep-end-learning-boundaries/" target="_blank">failure at the play party at Desire Resort & Spa in November</a>, so wanted to get this one right. Spoiler alert: I didn’t get it right.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-bacf253b-81d9-8f7a-dc2f-810329e9fdad" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are so many little pieces that contributed to the night turning into a disaster for me. </span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was in a new space in an unfamiliar city</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The party was huge and full of people I didn’t know</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first guy I met was creepily sexual</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was a speed meet-n-greet instead of relaxed welcome circle</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was drained from peopling more than I normally do from previous 2 days</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’d been running from event to event without time for adequate meals or downtime</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt insecure with regards to Will’s desire for me versus his desire for new experiences and new people.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you feel more centred?” he’d asked me as we quickly rearranged our clothes, hearing our host on the stairs. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh yes!” I’d sighed happily, no longer in my head but relaxed and settled thoroughly in my body.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You’re a voyeur! </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I told myself </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If nothing else, go watch what other people are up to.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The panic was too strong for any sensible thoughts to cut through.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He probably did while you were sleeping and didn’t want to wake you. You know there’s no way he’d abandon you, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">my sensible brain told me. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m all alone. Why doesn’t anyone want to be with me? </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anxious spiral brain countered. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You’re the one that is hiding. How can anyone be with you while you’re hiding? </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What the fuck is wrong with you? They’re into you. Go out there and join them. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nope.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“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.”</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now they hate you. Great job.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cut this out. You haven’t ruined everything. They want you there. Get over yourself! </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All the Nope! </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-23237958360364798322016-04-01T18:39:00.000-07:002016-04-01T18:39:29.001-07:00Fuck Me Like A Person: Sexism in the Lifestyle<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-abb82976-d49e-e51e-dd5b-ffa4bed7851c"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the most surprising things to me as I began exploring non-monogamy last year, particularly the swinger lifestyle, was the amount of rampant sexism flowing through the community. I’d expected that a group that had shrugged off the societal rules of marriage = monogamy would be far less willing to embrace the sexist gender roles and rules shoved down our throats at every turn.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know. Feminism, such a fun topic. And believe me, I feel like a killjoy discussing that rather than my umpteenth threesome this month, or the hot young man who nailed me through the mattress earlier today, and I wish that sexism was so non-existent that I wouldn’t even have to bring it up. But other than the great job Life on the Swingset the website and podcast do to make progressive strides in swinging attitudes, misogyny is ubiquitous in swingtown.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the most obvious places I see it is in the theme nights at my local club (and at Desire Resort & Spa, so I’m exceptionally happy our Swingset crew is coming up with the themes this year) such as Bunnies and Millionaires. I get it. The bunny ears and little outfit with fishnets is cute & hot. But the whole power imbalance between men and women as the default in the theme is so frustrating and revolting. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m all for a lovely </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">negotiated consensual</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> power imbalance in playtime with nicknames, infantilism, roleplay whatever that two or more people want to do. But with a Bunnies & Millionaires theme, we’re harkening back to a time that Playboy bunnies had to go through regular measurements and weigh-ins, and would be fired if they didn’t stay within those strict guidelines, just to please the rich white men attending the Playboy club? Sickening, not sexy!</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The next place I see it is the use of ‘girl’ for woman without the corresponding use of ‘boy’ for man. Again, it’s cute, and when a certain someone calls me a ‘sexy girl’, I feel all fluttery, and also incredibly conflicted, because it’s a throwback to a time when women weren’t considered to be adults the way men were. Women couldn’t make medical decisions for themselves such as getting their tubes tied without their husband’s permission. My mother-in-law (a grown-ass woman) couldn’t get a car loan at one point, despite having a job that would easily pay for it, without her father as co-sign, because she didn’t have a husband.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The weight of that historic oppression smothers the cuteness related to the word ‘girl’. So when I saw ‘girls only orgy’ on the schedule with ‘guys welcome to watch’ at Desire in November, I just couldn’t bring myself to participate, as much as I’d have loved to be in that wonderfully writhing pile of women.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The most insidious place I see it is when men in the lifestyle ask permission of other men to do things to their wives/partners, rather than asking the women directly, as if the women don’t have the agency to speak for themselves. I know that it is a holdover from monogamy, for fear that the partnered male might get violent with another guy approaching his woman. This is 100% related to the fact that women were once property and men will violently defend their ownership of said property. Any guy who has pulled that ‘I was just being courteous’ crap with us has been shut down immediately. By me. The patriarchy has no place in my pussy.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe it seems like I’m overreacting, and if it were a single little thing, I would agree, but it isn’t. It’s so omnipresent that we don’t even see it most places. Every ‘Treat her like a princess, Fuck her like a whore’ meme just reinforces the desperate need to overreact until the new normal for memes reads:</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">‘Treat her like a person, Fuck her like a person’</span></div>
<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-79894051504144107042016-03-12T16:30:00.000-08:002016-03-12T16:30:00.982-08:00Reconnecting with Sexy Friends: Weekend in Seattle<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">We met so many amazing people at Swingset Takes Desire trip in November, yet very few of them live anywhere near us on the wetcoast. We were thrilled to find out that Wes and Raina, a couple we clicked with very well at Desire Resort and Spa, were coming to Seattle, only a couple hours away from us. Hooray!</span><br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After having an intense connection when we met, Wes and I had been texting almost daily, having Skype dates when we could, and building a poly relationship. I occasionally panic at how quickly things have progressed, but really like him, so work to keep my natural resistance to ‘feelings’ in check.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wes and I had a bunch of fun chatting online, picking a hotel, though room and bed configuration were tricky. We were definitely getting separate rooms because a) they were travelling with another friend who would not be part of the shenanigans and b) I’m a super-introvert and would likely be huddled in a corner rocking and sobbing if I spent that much non-stop time with people over a weekend. We wanted to spend one night together with the 4 of us in one room, so we eventually decided on queen sized beds, since though kings are fun for the sexing, 4 people in a bed are not going to get any sleep.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Flick and I packed a huge bag of toys, condoms, gloves, dams, throes, lube, and harnesses. I felt some pangs as always about crossing into the US with that stuff. I have no issues being a pervert, but I have worries about being denied entry into the US (possibly forever) for being a pervert. “We don’t need your maple-scented filth here, ma’am!”</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Did you not know Canadians smell like maple syrup? Because we totally do.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We arrived at the hotel several hours before Wes & Raina, and managed to stay awake late enough for a quick kiss and cuddle with them before we separated to pass out for the night. In the morning, we met them and their friend Connor for breakfast, enjoying mimosas and tasty food as we planned our day of touristy adventures.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have to confess that I was super nervous about spending intense time with other people over a weekend. I need a lot of solo time after a busy work week to recharge my introvert batteries. When we’d gone to Whistler in the fall with Hot Mama, her hubby, and baby, I kept having to go for walks in the woods to stop from going crazy from all the people. I’m not my best self in that environment and can get rather hostile. Highly motivated by sex with Wes and Raina, I was willing to give the trip a go despite my nerves (our Whistler trip had been sex free due to cock-blocking baby, other than for Flick and Hot Mama while both myself and Hot Papa [and baby] were out on separate introvert walks).</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The four of us had a great time playing tourist in Seattle the way I never have previously. We did the Underground Seattle tour and it was fun hanging out and holding hands with Wes as we walked. I don’t do much in the way of PDAs at home, since it’s a pretty small city and chance of running into someone Flick & I know is pretty high. I realized as I instinctively touched and smooched Flick as well as Wes, that perhaps the other people in our tour group might have been wondering what was going on with the four who seemed to be swapping cuddle partners regularly. Well, they were probably thinking (accurately!) that we were a bunch of dirty perverts.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We headed back to the hotel in the late afternoon to clean up in our separate rooms before our 4-way sexy date. Taking Dan Savage’s advice to Fuck First, we planned to get our sexy on before going for a late dinner.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once Flick and I were clean and ready to go, I was suddenly very nervous again. It seems to be a phenomenon for me before dates that I kind of freak out for a bit, start trying to think of reasons to cancel, how I could get out of it, flee before anyone gets there. I just thought it happened before solo dates and when Flick has been around to witness it at home, he thought it was something I had against him. When he saw it happen even before a duo date with people I’ve slept with before, he realized it was just part of my process. He ran to the liquor store across the street for some wine to calm me the fuck down.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some deep breaths and some blessed vino got me to a better headspace and once Wes and Raina arrived, mouths and hands quickly stripped me of my nerves, and my clothes, and fun, happy Kat was back. Once we’d worn ourselves out with the orgasms, we drove into downtown Seattle for a really nice dinner, then returned to the hotel and snuggled up two to a bed for sleep. It was the first night I’ve spent with a partner, which was kind of a big deal. As I lay awake reading (sleeping? Who me?), I heard three sets of breathing change into light snores and I got to reflect on all the choices and coincidences that brought us all to that place together. It was a pretty great place to be.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-19922456533238497092016-02-27T11:34:00.000-08:002016-02-27T11:36:01.119-08:00Guys are like Ah and Gals are like Oo<blockquote>
“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” - <a href="http://decaheda.tumblr.com/post/124272551727/being-bisexual-and-having-different-feelings-when" target="_blank">http://decaheda.tumblr.com/post/124272551727/being-bisexual-and-having-different-feelings-when</a></blockquote>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t know how to flirt with women.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My whole paradigm shifted recently when I met Iris.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you need me, I’ll be over here, sexting and squeeing, and getting ready for where this journey might take me next.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-52998386767116473352016-01-31T12:55:00.001-08:002016-02-12T17:04:14.140-08:00Coming Out Open: The Cost of the Closet<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Cost of the Closet: Coming Out Open</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-76ff73e2-d828-2945-9643-184311e4e9f8" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"So what have you been up to?"</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Oh, you know. Work, the usual..."</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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). </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thus began my year of, "You know, the usual...," which really meant pulling away from our social circle.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Basically, I locked her out of my life so she couldn't lock me out of hers.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-32122717669256519902016-01-19T21:22:00.001-08:002016-01-23T16:23:51.789-08:00EpiphanyI am special<br />
<div>
I am awesome</div>
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I am beautiful</div>
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I am funny</div>
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I am sexy</div>
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I am weird</div>
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I am dorky</div>
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I am unique</div>
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I am amazing</div>
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<br /></div>
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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.</div>
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<br /></div>
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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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
'Don't lose sight of who you are' is one of the sections of lyric that I've always taken to heart--<i>don't kid yourself, you're not special enough, he might like you but he'd never pick you.</i> My brain is an asshole! But I've taken that lyric and reframed it and owned it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I won't lose sight of who I am. I won't cling to things that are LESS than I deserve.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm not that girl.</div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-76963516082108617312016-01-17T21:04:00.000-08:002016-01-19T09:34:33.664-08:00Swinging in Paradise - Desire Recap Part 3<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Read Parts <a href="http://onthewetcoast.blogspot.ca/2015/12/swinging-in-paradise-desire-recap.html" target="_blank">1</a> & <a href="http://onthewetcoast.blogspot.ca/2015/12/swinging-in-paradise-desire-recap-part-2.html" target="_blank">2</a></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-c81dbab1-531a-6f7a-64c5-446c930a21d1" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;">.....</b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the afterglow of Friday afternoon’s sexytimes with Will, I spent a little time packing and getting things organized. Our airport shuttle was arriving exceedingly early in the morning and that ‘final night’ mentality was kicking in hard. How on earth was I going to go back to real life after this?</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBSOR6r9A7hffCNx5NMpeOgxgsPfwq5JwicajFhDCwGTGPAmyzvS7_LYA_MOK1pJ0cCRj20VZ82SAIEvHgRf8MCOAn1gcEQOcEPsyVE7fn1x1wrWhnwanRBg2aMR0W-vDz06-9C65qYA/s1600/IMG_6038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBSOR6r9A7hffCNx5NMpeOgxgsPfwq5JwicajFhDCwGTGPAmyzvS7_LYA_MOK1pJ0cCRj20VZ82SAIEvHgRf8MCOAn1gcEQOcEPsyVE7fn1x1wrWhnwanRBg2aMR0W-vDz06-9C65qYA/s320/IMG_6038.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had a dinner date planned with Raina & Wes, but were delightfully surprised when Mal and Peach were the other two sitting at the 6-person teppanyaki bar with us. After dinner, Raina, Wes, Flick, and I went back to our room for some sexy fun. Raina and I brought out our electronics (magic wand and eroscillator, respectively), and with all the delightful combinations four bodies can create, we all had some awesome orgasms. Blissed-out in the afterglow on the king-sized bed, we took one of my favourite photos of the trip, the four of us holding hands, Desire bracelets on display. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually we split up to get ready for the after-dinner activities. I put on my Slave Leia costume, even though it was not at all relevant to that night’s theme (sexy circus, I think). Truthfully, that outfit is always ‘on theme’, and that was confirmed when a Swingsetter fanboy-shrieked “Princess Leia” when he saw me in the outdoor bar. Some tropical rain shut down the band early, but Will and I took advantage and made out in the rain, enjoying rain-slick skin and lips as others dodged for cover.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After busting some badass hip hop moves in the disco (if you’ve never seen a former ballerina get all down & dirty dressed in the gold Leia bikini, you’re missing out), we headed to the hot tub for our final night of fun and sexy conversation. I was loathe to leave the awesome group chats as the night transitioned further and further into morning, and my sensible brain was telling me I needed to get some sleep that night. As JV & Shara said goodnight, I managed to get a hug sandwiched between Cooper and JV, which is an experience I’d recommend to all.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reality kicked in around 4am, and Flick and I reluctantly exited the tub and began our goodnights/goodbyes. Hugs with Elle evolved into shoulder shimmies with our naked breasts touching, which makes me giggle every time I think about it, and is a trip highlight for sure. I saw that she and Will were heading off to have an orgy with their, and now our, sexy friends, and although I felt the tiniest ping of jealousy, I was mostly just happy for them. I felt secure and happy, and wanted them to have an awesome last night.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After some bad-idea pizza in the lobby bar, we got our bags packed and ready, knowing every passing minute was taking away from desperately needed sleep. My super-organization from the trip down was changed to just stuffing clothing, condoms, and dildos as best they’d fit into bags and hoping for the best.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The morning was rough; 3 hours sleep and we staggered down to eat breakfast and grab desperately needed coffee. Our exhausted hearts were warmed to find many Swingsetters whose flights left much later than ours, sleepy-faced and waiting in the lobby bar to say their goodbyes. Countless hugs and kisses and promises of visits were exchanged, exhausted selfies were taken, tears were shed, and then Flick, Elle, Will, and I were loaded into a shuttle to do the heartbreaking drive back to the airport, more teary farewells, and reality. I totally didn’t weep on Will’s shoulder the whole way.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So that was our first trip to Desire, a truly life changing holiday, and providing the Canadian dollar doesn’t plummet any further, we’ll be there again this coming November as the Swingset takes over, with some experience under our belts, and a little more understanding of ourselves and our relationship.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lessons I learned:</span></div>
<br />
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If a play party isn’t feeling right to you, grab a sexy friend or three (or more) and go off to do your own thing.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It wasn’t until I was home that I realized that instead of chatting with Mal and Flick about our discomfort at the play party, we should have gone off to an empty bed and had our own. *headdesk*</span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You’re not being paranoid by packing all the stomach meds.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Bring them all!!</span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pack some sleeping pills too</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. All-day adrenalin and endorphins does not make for good rest.</span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ask for what you want.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> When we spoke about our wants and fantasies out loud, they tended to happen. Speaking of, a big fantasy I have for this year is a gangbang with trusted partners, both with guys, and gals wearing strap-ons.</span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Make firm plans with people you’re interested in.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It’s good to leave space and flexibility in your schedule, but if you don’t make firm plans, there’s a good chance the week will run out before you’ve done what/who you want.</span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Talk to others about their experience.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> A fair amount of my jealousy came from making some big assumptions about the awesome time others were having getting all their needs met, and it wasn’t always the case.</span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Talk about your jealousy and other icky feelings with your partners.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> That shit festers in the dark. Admitting my jealous feelings to Flick and to Will meant we could share together and feel less alone. Turned out they were having similar feelings and we all felt better talking about it.</span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The worst thing you could ever imagine happening during sex can happen, and you won’t actually die (I suppose, unless THAT is the worst thing you can imagine happening).</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I’m going to leave that one up to your imaginations. Maybe some day after a few shots of tequila, I’ll tell the full, humiliating story.</span></div>
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</ol>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-24758209583636910662016-01-01T18:28:00.000-08:002016-01-29T17:44:13.119-08:00The Stress of Evolution<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Stress of Evolution</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-8a79f324-9033-6eef-0d5d-1e2b88ff5e11" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">careful what you wish for</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I'm finding it...stressful.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!)</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Goddamn it! I'm going to have to use my words again, aren't I?</span></div>
<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-91871415382140581792015-12-25T22:57:00.000-08:002016-01-17T21:10:52.766-08:00Swinging in Paradise: Desire Recap - Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">swore</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was Peach in a Life on the Swingset shirt, no bottoms, gazing all sexy at the camera. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was devastated. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I got myself together, I went back into the bedroom and asked Flick to see the photo of Peach. </span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What photo?” he asked. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was furious! “The photo of Peach in the Swingset shirt! The one you were looking at when you woke me up.”</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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).</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coming up in <a href="http://onthewetcoast.blogspot.com/2016/01/swinging-in-paradise-desire-recap-part-3.html%20Done" target="_blank">Part 3</a> (final part) - More Friday sexytimes, Slave Leia gets funky, and saying goodbye to paradise.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-28001380827499531722015-12-13T19:49:00.001-08:002016-01-19T09:27:41.090-08:00Swinging In Paradise: Desire Recap<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.’</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-529d3a77-9e99-3edc-e46b-5c3f441be904" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’re going again next year.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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!</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Swinging in the Deep End</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coming up in <a href="http://onthewetcoast.blogspot.com/2015/12/swinging-in-paradise-desire-recap-part-2.html%20Done" target="_blank">Part Two</a>: 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.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-29698094002977008832015-11-21T05:40:00.001-08:002015-11-21T05:40:26.054-08:00Swinging in the Deep End - Learning Boundaries<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the events I was most excited for at the Swingset Takes Desire was the High School Play Party. We’ve been to a few swinger events at local clubs, but have not yet met a crew of people who do play parties the way my friends in other cities have described them. Adding the element of the high school games like spin the bottle was a fun twist and we were down to get down. The rules were first bottle match meant chaste mouth kiss, second match was frenching, third match you went into the shower stall near the hot tub for ‘7 minutes in heaven’. Either party had the option to refuse at any time.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-021ca32c-2a45-5755-6c8d-50863e5b71c9" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The game started with a medium crowd of people, with all of whom I had either already established a sexual relationship or at least an intense flirt that I was happy to have lead somewhere more physical. As the bottle spun, I got the chance to smooch a few people I hadn’t had the chance to put the moves on yet, and it was a fun, light way to have that happen. The fact that I happened to be sitting in a spot that the bottle favoured due to the uneven tile floor... no complaints from me.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A few more people joined and after some dissatisfaction about the chaste kissing part, and that the game was moving too slowly, it was decided that we needed to up the ante so that the first kiss was frenching and then straight to the shower. It was a still a small enough crowd that I could go for that, and when Flick made my dream come true by frenching one of the other hot guys on a first match, I was in my happy place. I was so impressed by the guys in the game either kissing one another or opting out, without any ridiculous chest pounding or making a big deal over it.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The group grew larger a few more times and it got to the point where I no longer knew everyone in the crowd. Since we were merely at kissing, I was perfectly happy to give and accept kisses, even if that was essentially my first introduction to someone.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everything changed when the ‘7 minutes in heaven’ started.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I looked up to see oral sex happening in the shower as the immediate step after frenching, my stomach dropped and panic began to set in. I am exceptionally na</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ï</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ve to have imagined there would be making out, maybe some grinding as the next step. Admittedly, the people in the shower were people who had already established sexual connections, and so it made complete sense for them to go right to a more advanced level, but it was setting a precedent for those of us watching. Even if the players in heaven had been out of sight, so we only had to wonder what they were up to, it would have been okay, but I felt sick dread, rather than sexy fun as I watched.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If the group had remained with the initial, smaller crew, I likely would have been willing to step out of my comfort zone a bit, but as things progressed, all I could think was that I was either going to have to blow someone I didn’t know/didn’t have chemistry with, or have to reject someone rather publicly and have it be this whole awkward awful thing. I knew that I had every right to say no at anytime to anyone, but it was a different situation than someone approaching me at an event and me saying, ‘no thank you’ to their advances. This would be everyone in a large group watching me say, ‘no thank you’ and potentially humiliating a really delightful person I felt a friendship connection with. This was a high school play party, but I didn’t want to be the person sending someone back to that terrible time by turning them down in front of all their friends.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I mentioned my fears to the sexy friend in the seat next to me and he was on the same page, so at least I knew I was not alone. I tried to figure out a clever code phrase to say to Flick, but ended up just asking him to come talk to me away from the group. He felt exactly the same way I did, so we decided to opt out and leave the party. We bade our surprised friends goodnight in a rather sudden way and headed back to our room.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leaving felt like a shitty option too, because we’d been so excited for a night of play with the people we wanted to play with. There are only so many nights at Desire, so missing out on one of them sucked. And we probably could have just gone into the hot tub for a while and popped back in on the party when the dynamic changed, but I knew I’d be overly conscious of the laughter and ruckus from fun and games we were missing out on. Leaving was the best bad decision we could make.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We spent a couple hours lying in our bed chatting and processing, and trying to figure out what we could have done differently, but couldn’t come up with anything. We were simply out of our depths in the situation and leaving before one of us did something we really regretted was the only call. I suppose it was a good opportunity to learn a hard boundary for us. We’re just not open to play with people unless we’re really into them, and we’d rather give up the potential sexy connection with people we are into than do something we’d rather not with those we don’t know or feel chemistry with.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another fucking opportunity for growth, as they say. It would just be nice if doing the right thing actually felt good.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-83711675975246098192015-11-06T17:06:00.002-08:002015-11-06T17:06:24.020-08:00Fanfiction Saved My Sex Life<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like most couples in long-term marriages, our sex life has encountered some serious ups and downs--phrasing!--over the course of our 21 years together. We’d been in one of those down slumps approximately 2 years ago when I discovered the rich web of slash fanfiction dedicated to a TV show I was obsessed with at the time. I couldn’t believe there was so much out there. Even more so, I couldn’t believe how much of it was really good.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-fb6d9df0-df7a-7cce-ccf5-fb1d970cd82c" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started devouring everything I could get my fingers on by a few discovered authors, and gradually I started branching off to more and more writers, reading story after story after story. Sure, I found some terrible drek as well, and plenty of the mediocre, but for the most part, I read a lot of great stories that stimulated both my brain and my lady parts.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not to put too fine a point on it, but I started masturbating like crazy. Total wank fest! The stories were so hot and I was almost always turned on by something. And the more I read and sought out stories, the more I found newer, hotter stories. Then I found the ones that were dirrrrty and I was completely hooked. I could explore kinks I’d secretly held for years, and I was discovering new kinks I’d never considered at an astonishing rate.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once I’d been reading for a few months, I got the idea for a story of my own, and soon I was madly writing fanfiction as well as reading it. And between all the necessary breaks for frantic self-abuse, I discovered that spending endless hours describing men’s bodies in exquisite, pornographic detail made my husband’s body more and more appealing. All the time I was detailing the texture, weight, scent, and taste of cocks made me want his cock more and more.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Up to that point, I’d bought into the lie women are told about how penises are ugly and silly (I could probably write a paper about the sociological reasons for this lie, about an oppressed group seeking power through ridiculing the symbol of that oppression, but I won’t. You’re not here for that. Bring on the dirty stuff!). Sucking cock had been a chore I did because I loved him, not because I loved it. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Writing extensively about cocksucking changed all that.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I wrote more words dedicated to hot, messy, sticky, delicious blowjobs, I was discovering their hotness and I suddenly wanted cock in my mouth. On purpose. Cocks are beautiful and sexy and smooth and velvet, and they feel amazing on my tongue, and they smell good, and...well, I’m a fan!</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My preferred porn has always been gay male porn, so I don’t know why it was a surprise to me that I was a huge fan of peen. After I started writing slashfic, when I watched porn I began to focus less on the fucking and more on the oral and it was hot. Really fucking hot. Somehow, taking away the power differential that tends to be present in much of the hetero porn I’ve seen, the blowjob became an incredibly sexy act for me (not that power differentials can’t be super-hot in sex when it’s all consensual and hot for everyone involved).</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Inspired by my reading, writing, and watching, I started initiating oral on Flick without expectation of it leading to other things, but because I wanted to do it. This, in turn, made him feel sexy and appreciated, and he started initiating more, which made me feel sexy and appreciated. The best kind of positive feedback loop.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Writing (and reading) dirty stories was also an exercise in discovering many unknown kinks, and owning those kinks in the written word helped me claim them in real life as well, which led to conversations with Flick where I revealed some of my deep, dark likes and wants for the first time in a two decade relationship.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By the time our discoveries and reveals came around to wanting to have some sexual adventures together, we’d had 6 months of the best sex we’d had in at least a decade, possibly our entire marriage. At that juncture, we both felt safe to reveal the deepest of the married person’s deep, dark secrets: ‘I want to fuck other people.’</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As we pack our bags heading to Desire Resort and Spa with other Swingsetters, I can’t thank those dirty stories enough.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-33620040677556742982015-10-31T17:05:00.000-07:002015-11-06T17:05:46.303-08:00You've Come A Long Way, Baby<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">First published on <a href="http://www.lifeontheswingset.com/22729/youve-come-a-long-way-baby/" target="_blank">lifeontheswingset.com</a> - Oct 30, 2015</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I spent some time recently reading through some blog posts I wrote early this year. Those memories, plus a few experiences I had this week that have reminded me how far I’ve come in my open relationship adventure.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I was recalling our first swing date with another couple and remembered how freaked out I’d been about being naked in front of people. I wasn’t (as) nervous about the sex; it was really about the nudity. Sex is about doing. I’m good at doing. Nudity is about being. I’m terrible at being. Before becoming non-monogamous, I was rarely naked, even when alone in the house. </span><i style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Especially</i><span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> when alone in the house. Friends often accused me of being like Tobias Fünke (Arrested Development) who was a ‘never nude’ and even showered in jean shorts.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Since we opened our relationship, I’ve become so comfortable being naked. It’s almost effortless to hang out or wander around naked after playtimes, at the local nude beach, or alone in the house. Much of the associated fear and discomfort related to my body has eased, and I enjoy it much more. This is all a good thing, since we’re heading to Desire Resorts in a couple weeks, and I’m assuming I’ll be nude much of the time while I’m there. A year ago, I doubt I could have contemplated such a vacation.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">We had a date with one of our wonderful unicorns this week and it was great. Really, really great. At no point did I wish I was alone reading a book or watching Netflix. Since our first, clumsy night together, we’ve really gelled, and our chemistry has gotten better and better. That in itself is interesting because she’s someone we hang out with regularly in a purely platonic fashion. She and I do yoga together weekly, and there’s no flirty spark when we spend time together in that realm–though I did forget myself one time in the change room and laughingly scold her about sending my husband home to me with above-the-collar hickeys. But when we start kissing, and start getting naked, wow are there sparks. It’s a really fun paradox.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">My other experience this week was a first sexy-date with a guy I’ve been chatting with for a while and met up for a coffee and a walk last week. We have a really easy banter via text, but both of us are slightly awkward penguins in person. Plus, he’d never been with anyone but his wife; they married young and had had no previous sexual partners. I had no problem being his gateway-slut into the deep end of non-monogamy (in fact, it was quite a buzzy thrill to get to be that person), but wow, was it ever awkward.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I think one of the main issues was that we’re both pretty submissive (as is his wife, which is why they’ve had trouble clicking sexually). I can take charge a bit, especially to initiate things, but generally during sex, I like to be told what to do, or at least, enthusiastically encouraged what to do. So with him being completely in his head and freaked out because every single thing we were doing he’d only ever done with his wife, and me trying not to go too fast or too far, happy to ‘ruin’ him but not wanting to break him, it wasn’t the smoothest ride.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m definitely willing to give it a few more shots, though. I remember that ‘deer in headlights’ feeling I had when I started getting down with new partners, and I’m willing to step-up and attempt to be more dominant with him to see if he relaxes more while being bossed around. It’s really not my natural inclination, though, so we’ll have to see how it goes. Maybe it can become something I enjoy–variety is what non-monogamy is all about, after all–but maybe we’ll discover that someone else would suit his needs better. It’s a fascinating place to be in, though, as the ‘experienced’ one, considering that I still feel like such a n00b much of the time.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #606569; font-family: 'Open Sans', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.998px; margin-bottom: 1.857em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">So as much as it’s galling to quote a cigarette ad from the 70s that exploited feminism to sell ‘slim’ cigarettes to women, it does feel like the an appropriate title and summary. From my first, panicked moments of non-monogamy to becoming the guiding hand (and lips, and pussy) on someone else’s adventure, I have come a long way, baby.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-75437492548820806822015-10-06T20:51:00.001-07:002015-12-26T18:30:20.422-08:00I Only Need What You Can Give - Recalibrating Expectations<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-bca61acc-406b-300c-49e0-ea554702d854" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve been trying to work out a new approach to my secondary relationships because what I’ve been doing hasn’t been working for me. I spend much of my time riddled with self-doubt and angst--and sometimes bouts of ugly-cry tears--based on the communication whims of my partners. I just can’t do it anymore, nor do I want to.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I feel like I’ve got a couple options as far as response to the communication disparity. I can demand changes of my partners, or I can figure out how to be okay with what I’m getting. If I do the first, things may or may not change in my relationships, so I think I will be served better by the second approach, and that’s what I’m working on.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being that I’ve been at this open relationship thing for less than a year, it’s difficult to shake the monogamous mind-set of seeing relationships as having to be a certain way or they have to end. Non-monogamous relationships don’t have to follow that model because none of my partners have to be everything to me. Accepting them for who they are and what they have to give me will free me from much of the angst I’ve been experiencing when communication doesn’t look the way it does in my ideal scenario.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Part of this shift in mindset comes from radical acceptance. I was messaging with a long-distance partner with whom I wanted to video chat/masturbate together, but it’s not really his thing. He was careful to make it clear that it wasn’t just me he didn’t want to do that with, and I had a very clear moment when I realized that even if it was only me he didn’t want to do that with, it would still be okay.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, I would love to be special in my partners’ eyes. I would love it if they thought of me as often as I think of them, but it’s truly okay if they don’t. And my acceptance is not meant to be an acceptance of being treated poorly. I have a history of being a doormat, but this isn’t coming from a belief that I don’t deserve better. None of my partners are treating me poorly, they simply aren’t as chatty as I am, and don’t tend to initiate conversations as often as I do.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I’m in a healthy headspace, I can see that for what it is--they’re busy, they don’t feel the need to connect as often as I do--but when my overly anxious or depressed brain is calling the shots, the message I hear is that I’m unimportant, merely a convenient set of holes they use when they’re horny and ignore when they’re not.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By recalibrating my dependence on the external stimulus of text messages for affirmation, I’m hoping to take away some of the power my illness can hold over me, much like my ‘I love you’ tattoo does--well, brain, you’re telling me I’m worthless, and that my friends and family wouldn’t even feel a loss if I wasn’t around, but when I was healthy, I took the time to get these words inked into my skin, so I’m going to believe them rather than you.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thinking about love was the other part of what spurred me to thinking about a change in mindset. I’m not currently in love with any partners other than my husband, but I’ve worried that I might fall in love with one of them, and they might not love me back. I have in the past developed feelings quickly and intensely, so this has felt like a real risk. But I’ve come to realize that although it would be nice to have someone reciprocate those feelings, I don’t </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">need</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> that. My love wouldn’t have to be a selfish love that depended on being returned. I could simply love someone because I did, and I could enjoy loving them, and that could be enough.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As luck would have it, after pondering this topic all day at work, I heard from one of my partners that he needed to take a break from our physical relationship. He’s going through some things and needed some time to figure it out. I was able to freely and honestly tell him that it was just fine, that I was available if he wanted to chat, and that all I want from him is what he’s able to give.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All that said, I also need to figure out when I need to back away if something isn’t serving me well, when investing in a relationship that causes me more pain than joy isn’t in my best interest. In an ideal situation, I’ll be so zen that I won’t feel the pain, but I know that’s not realistic. I’ve come to realize how one-sided one of my relationships is and I think I need to put on the brakes. I’ve had warning signs since the beginning that it wasn’t going to be a super-smooth ride, but I blithely ignored the negatives thanks to the sense-altering buzz of New Relationship Energy (NRE). I don’t feel like I need to give up the relationship entirely, just recalibrate my expectations of what I want out of it, as well as how much time and effort I’m willing to put into it.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s hard, though, because when things have been good, it’s been really good, and I let myself get swept up in a lovely world of make-believe where we get closer and closer. I think we may have reached our limit of closeness, though, and I know that with time, I will be okay with that. I’ve got some awkward and painful days ahead of me as I get to the other side and grieve the relationship I thought we had/were building. Once I’m through the hurt, I will come to embrace the one we’ve got.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is a pattern I’m doomed to repeat if I don’t get myself sorted. I’ve already been through it once, and fuck, did that ever suck. I was heartbroken and miserable, and also felt incredibly guilty that my husband had to watch me going through that over another guy. I’m hoping that this time won’t be as bad because I know what I’m in for. It sucks though. I really like him. But I don’t have to stop liking him, I don’t even need to stop crushing on him. I just need to ditch any expectations I had of this becoming more than a casual thing.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Grieve the fantasy, embrace the reality. My new mantra.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-60916050880765490102015-09-25T16:09:00.000-07:002015-09-25T16:10:08.356-07:00Getting to Open - Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-f736455d-06c3-f8cc-cdb2-c9a494b50e3d" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once we decided to go looking for a threesome in earnest, we had to figure out where to start. Neither of us had ever used any online dating site (we hooked up before that was really a common thing) and we’d heard single friends complain about creepers (their word) messaging them to ask for threesomes. We didn’t want to be those people.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I did the other thing single women complain about. After a generous application of beer and whiskey to my nerves, I asked one of our friends I knew was openly bisexual if she’d like to join us (Flick and I think you’re really cute and wondered if you’d like to have a threesome with us) and she said yes. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Really? Awesome!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had to do a bit of planning around complicated schedules and decided to get a hotel room since Flick and I share a double (aka full) bed and it barely fits two people (plus cats), let alone three (sans cats). We figured out a date, then I went the traditional threesome route and sent her an evite.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yep. An evite. I’m totally not kidding. I am THAT much of a dork. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; line-height: 1.38; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbROqV3q1QRH_VVpMvqZ3l7t3cQ-n9KgEwm15JTorC4Sy5ZJ_br8m1BHa8LqOmhXalj65G7HcEYSl48Qn9lb88iDpFxxB8w3eIYN2TJ-0WKHAGUQczwgTjfU5Qee3J08ki7bT-G82fD4/s1600/threesome_evite.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbROqV3q1QRH_VVpMvqZ3l7t3cQ-n9KgEwm15JTorC4Sy5ZJ_br8m1BHa8LqOmhXalj65G7HcEYSl48Qn9lb88iDpFxxB8w3eIYN2TJ-0WKHAGUQczwgTjfU5Qee3J08ki7bT-G82fD4/s320/threesome_evite.png" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; line-height: 1.38; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was surprisingly tough to find the right template. Clearly threesome invite is an untapped niche market (untapped niche--heh!).</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Many nerves were involved when the night finally rolled around and I knocked over my drink in the restaurant (a common theme for me - see Den of Pleasure and also, a few paragraphs down in this post). When the three of us got back to the hotel room, there was a lot of awkward, “So…” until Flick took the reins and asked to kiss her and we went from there.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was...weird. I mean, it was good and hot and I loved--LOVED--seeing her and Flick together, but she kissed weird, and she didn’t touch me the way I like, and she touched me in a few ways I don’t like, and I had to clue in that sex with new people was going to involve a lot of figuring each other out.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being so nervous had me in my head too much and every time we took a break from the sexing, all I could think about was how I didn’t want to be there. Would it be rude to read my book? Thankfully, Flick is better at people than I am, and kept the conversation going. When we’d get physical again, I was into it, but then we’d come up for air, I’d think, “Why did we plan for a sleepover? I want to go home and watch Netflix.”</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By morning, I was a bit of a wreck, and after we ate breakfast--hey, room service guy!--I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of there. I was basically having a low grade anxiety attack related to having to be ‘on’ for so long. We’ve since had several progressively more awesome threesomes with that friend in our new queen-size bed. Fewer nerves, getting to know how each other’s bodies work, and my ability to go be by myself after have made the world of difference.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After threesomes, we decided to try swinging. We found a couple on kasidie.com and set up a date. They seemed really cool, had no expectations, and were fine with us being newbies. We went back to their place after our meet-up drinks in a nearby restaurant (yes, I knocked my drink over, all over her), played a sexy strip/dare card game, and started playing in earnest.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At one point, I was on the bed in a sea of naked skin and couldn’t believe what an awesome place that was to be. I found it a bit hard to concentrate on any person or sensation, though, since there was so much happening at once. But it was a great first experience and we felt lucky to have found such a wonderful, sexy couple for our first time, and we’ve played with them several times since.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our second swing experience was similar: fun, sexy people, and I had the amazing experience of not knowing whose hand was pleasuring me at one point. I got spit-roasted for the first time and discovered that it is one of my favourite things. Again, the experience was really great, but a bit too much divided attention for an anxious person. I couldn’t relax into it fully because I constantly felt like I should be doing something to someone anytime I had a free hand or orifice.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe swinging wasn’t our thing…</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So we decided to start dating solo. We set up okcupid profiles and because I’m a woman, the offers started rolling in, regardless of my marital status. Flick, on the other hand, as a married man, didn’t have the same luck, even though we made it clear it was above board and linked his profile to mine. What he did have was a long-term friend in an open relationship (Hot Mama) with whom he’d been having the, ‘It would be too weird, wouldn’t it? Yeah. Would it? Maybe we should try!” conversation. They were able to segue into an awesome FWB relationship.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So here we are in what feels like the most natural variation of open for us. I’ve developed some great FWBs with guys I’ve met online (turns out, I’m a cougar!). Flick has maintained his relationship with Hot Mama, and occasionally sees our other unicorn solo. We have some threesomes and will occasionally swing with another couple if the connection is right.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s hard to know what to call it--Poly-lite?--and I’m sure it doesn’t matter. The friendship and connection is an essential part for us. Will we ever have completely casual sex? Maybe (we ARE going to Desire in November). Will we ever fall in love? Maybe. It’s something we’ll deal with if/when we get there. For now, this is our kind of open adventure.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-66704302895099039912015-09-18T16:08:00.000-07:002015-09-25T16:08:20.983-07:00Getting To Open: A Non-Monogamy Origin Story<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6666666666667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">(First published on <a href="http://www.lifeontheswingset.com/22540/getting-to-open-a-non-monogamy-origin-story/" target="_blank">Life on the Swingset</a>)</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6666666666667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6666666666667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Let's blame it on Dan Savage -- or more accurately, send him a thank you pie -- that Flick and I opened our relationship less than a year ago. We'd had 21 years of mostly successful monogamy, but after seeing a live recording of the Savage Lovecast last October, we started discussing our relationship and what we wanted it to look like in a way we never had before. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were in a really great place in our relationship, celebrating 18 years of marriage and having better sex than we'd had in many years, perhaps ever. There'd been the usual miscellaneous ups and downs in our partnership, and we’d had a few years of lacklustre lovin', a common occurrence in long-term partnerships, but due to a variety of reasons, we had over the previous year, come together better than ever. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Partly, it was due to me being in my 40s and coming into a confidence I hadn't dreamed of in my younger years. I'd been incredibly insecure in my 20s and it had been hard to own my sexuality. I'd had a few bisexual adventures, with Flick’s consent to explore outside our marriage, but other than admitting my attraction to women, I just couldn’t step up and announce what I wanted in sex, though admittedly, I don’t think I knew myself. In my 30s, I'd essentially tried to shut down my sexual self after an indiscretion of the non-ethical kind had come to light, and I’d slut-shamed myself into turning off all but the essentials, even long after Flick had forgiven me and moved on. I backtracked all our baby steps into exploring kink and other more adventurous sexual play so that I could be the good wife I thought I should be. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fast forward 10 years of hairshirt-wearing good behaviour and I slowly found myself again. I saw my doctor and a couple Psychiatrists, and learned that I wasn’t just high strung, but had Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Figuring that out, and getting some treatment, let me label the constant worry about how Flick might react to my sexual desires and get some distance from the debilitating thoughts. Slowly, I was able to be a complete person again, a person with a sex drive that wasn't abnormal or deviant, but that was a healthy, essential part of her. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sitting in the theatre at the live podcast listening to Dan and Dr. Lori Brotto discuss studies that showed the key to long term couples' sexual happiness was sexual adventure, I knew Flick and I had to shake things up. What kind of adventures could we have?</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Public sex was the first thing I thought of. I’d recently read an article in the local queer weekly newspaper about a sex club operating downtown. I’d had no idea that such a thing existed, but now that I knew, I really wanted to go and get fucked in front of an audience. I’m a raging exhibitionist, but it has to be in an appropriate setting (Hey, anxiety!), and a sex club was the perfect combo of both appropriate and public. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">High on both of our lists was a threesome with another woman. I'd really wanted that to happen when I was doing my bisexual explorations in my 20s, but the women I'd played with were partnered and our guys weren’t into the tradesies proposal I put forth. I’d had no idea how else to find someone (this was back in the mid 90s when internet dating wasn’t the default setting).</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shortly after we started discussing various options, I had a work trip out of the country for a week. While I was away, Flick told me about a hot, flirty Brazilian woman he'd met at the conference he was attending. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ooh, I'm sad you didn't score and tell me all about it," I messaged. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"O.o"</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">":D"</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I didn't know that was on the menu," Flick answered. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I hadn't realized until recently, but it is," I replied. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In that moment, I didn’t feel the sick dread I'd always felt when a hot woman flirted with him. Gone was that ever-present sense of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">she's so much hotter/sexier/prettier/more fun/wilder/buxom than me. He'd be crazy not to leave me for her</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. All I felt was arousal and giddy excitement that he could have an awesome adventure, and that I could get all the vicarious details. I hadn't heard the term ‘compersion’ at that point but I was feeling it. I was feeling it right then and also later on as I lay in bed grinding against my vibrator and imagining the possibilities. Oh was I feeling it! </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The hot Brazilian woman no longer felt like a threat because I'd come into owning my awesomeness. Flick could go have an adventure, but then he’d come home to me. He’d be crazy not to.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I returned home we fucked like crazy -- the other thing good for the sex lives of long-term couples: separate vacations. We planned our next move, booking New Year's tickets at a local swing club my one openly open friend recommended, and we started talking threesome.</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(To be continued)</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-13511094611075024972015-07-26T21:00:00.001-07:002016-01-19T09:27:59.505-08:00The Incredibly Wet Journey<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e881e420-e45a-cb23-d599-bf6be5bcbdee" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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 </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My Life On the Swingset: Adventures in Swinging and Polyamory</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, where I read the epic tales of the njoy Eleven dildo. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I must have it!, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought and rushed to the njoy website, where I discovered the price tag. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I must have the less expensive model!, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought, seconds later, and hauled out my credit card to order the Pure Wand.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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).</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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).</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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).</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And perhaps buy stock in Liberator, since I’m probably going to want to order a few more Throes.</span></div>
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Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-38194040456729223312015-07-02T17:00:00.002-07:002015-07-12T03:38:32.029-07:00Scheduling Woes<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-31a4fb3a-5136-57bd-19c0-ac8d81b9ab62" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Add the spouses and partners of said dates into the equation, it’s amazing anyone ever gets laid.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There's a good chance I need to make sure I only play with partners whose spouses/primaries feel the same way.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-11569416792318948682015-07-01T17:27:00.000-07:002016-01-17T21:16:16.963-08:00Hands 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!<br />
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And I really hate that I'm going to have to use my words to make that clear. Using my words is hard!<br />
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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).<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-23675370603657135032015-06-12T21:37:00.000-07:002015-06-12T21:39:21.457-07:00Hey, Jealousy<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6666666666667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">We stood pressed together, three bodies, three mouths, three sets of hands, kissing, touching, exploring. They moved closer to each other and I noticed they had an easy rhythm in their movements and caresses, learned with experience. I was met with the shocking realization that I felt like the outsider in a threesome with my husband and our friend.</span><br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My sweetie and I have been lucky enough to get to be part of several ffm threesomes simply by asking a couple open and bisexual female friends if they'd be interested in joining us. I always see memes online that suggest that bi women hate this kind of thing, but I'm not sure how else you're supposed to find people. Thankfully, they were game, so we've had some wonderful, sexy experiences together.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Flick and this particular friend, who I will call Hot Mama, had played together once before our previous threesome, which took place in an unfamiliar club setting, so there were so many pieces of new and different that those things captured my focus. This time we were the three of us in the living room of our house and their connection, honed over several more solo play dates, was so apparent it knocked me rather literally to my knees. The wave of feelings was shocking to me as I sank to the carpet and tried to collect myself.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It wasn't exactly jealousy I was feeling. My compersion critter is really powerful and generally what I feel about his dates and seeing him with another woman is all kinds of happy and turned on, and even the occasionally cocky, "The guy who just made you come that hard with his amazing mouth? That's my man!"</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What I felt here was left out--always such a danger button for me.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I knelt at their feet, kissing and caressing them through their underwear as I tried to figure out what to do with these intense feelings. I thought about excusing myself, but I knew that would worry them, and I didn't want to ruin their experience. It only made sense that they had this rhythm together, the sensible part of my brain reminded me. They'd been together a handful of times now, and that was bound to happen. I was even glad it was happening because it meant their sex would only get better and better, but that small tantrum-throwing piece of my brain in charge of my fear of missing out was still pinging hard.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Flick clearly noticed my mental withdrawal and knelt on the floor with me, pulling me back into my physical self and reminding me of how much they wanted me there. She joined us and their touch put my body back in charge to savour the amazing physical sensations that three bodies together can create.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Things flowed very well from there until later when she was kneeling between his legs blowing him as he sat on the couch. I moved up behind her to pleasure her and noticed that her back was covered in fresh scratch marks, which could only have been caused by Flick.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Emotions surged. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He scratches and bites her?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I thought. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I love that and he doesn't do that for me.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I felt a little sick with the unfairness of my husband giving another woman what I want. Thankfully, the Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">other</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> CBT) that I use to manage my anxiety kicked in and my sensible brain (SB) started asking some questions of my tantrum brain (TB).</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SB: Does he actually know that you like being bitten and scratched?</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">TB: He should. I'm sure I've moaned loudly in the past when he's scratched me.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SB: But have you told him outright that you want that?</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">TB: Well, no. But he should know after so many years together. It's not fair. He knows to do it for her.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SB: And do you think she told him she wants that?</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">TB: Of course. She has a lot of sexual agency. It's one of her awesome qualities that I most admire. But--</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SB: And when do you think this conversation took place? More recently that the vague time you remember moaning as he scratched your back?</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">TB: Of course it was recent. They've only been sleeping together for a couple months... Oh.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This entire in-brain conversation happened as I knelt behind her, getting her off with my hand while Flick held her by the hair and fucked her mouth. I'm very happy to have tools like CBT to counter panicky thoughts with rational questions to bring myself back from the edge of a freak out when neither of them had done anything wrong.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I knew this was a discussion I needed to have with my sweetie, but it could wait until tomorrow when we had time to debrief (heh!). For now, I had two very sexy people I wanted to have fun with, and if I could set aside those jealous pings, we could have an amazing night.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the record, we did. Because I let those jealous feelings go, I got to experience the lust and excitement in Hot Mama's eyes as she watched me ride Flick, then later as I got myself off with a toy. I got to see myself in a mirror for the first time wearing my harness and dildo. I got to witness the mind-meltingly gorgeous curve of her ass as I fucked her from behind while she sucked off my husband. I got to be one of the high-fivers in an Eiffel Tower. I even got some wonderfully painful bites of my own when I asked for them.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The next morning, Flick and I talked it out, and I'm going to be getting more of what I want and need. All I have to do is ask.</span></div>
Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-73296420414184863202015-05-31T17:23:00.000-07:002015-05-31T17:23:27.764-07:00The Pup Part Three: The ReturnAfter three weeks of total radio silence from The Pup, I received an apology text saying he was sorry he'd disappeared so suddenly, but he'd been caught up in his parents' divorce drama and he'd gone to a dark place, but if I was willing, he'd like to start seeing each other again.<br />
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Well fuck.<br />
<br />
There's a part of me that had been hoping for exactly that kind of message since he first vanished. Something that assured me that it wasn't in fact that I'm too ____ or not ____ enough for him to want to continue our relationship. We'd had such a great connection and I definitely want that -- and the awesome sex that came with -- back, but I'm also someone who has let others walk all over me in the past and I don't want to let myself get back into that sort of situation.<br />
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I also worry whether he has the kind of emotional maturity to be in the kind of FWB situation I'm looking for if got so fucked up by family drama that he couldn't thumb the words 'thank you' in response to a text wishing him a happy birthday. I was his age when my dad died from cancer and I didn't shut down and block people from my life.<br />
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So I told him I'd think about it and that I'd been really hurt by the way he treated me. He apologized, admitted his mistake, and said he misses me. Double fuck. This would be so much easier if he were an asshole and could just write him off. It does speak to his character that he did have the ovaries to send me a message, though. He could have just left it be. I'm sure that getting back in my pussy is a pretty strong motivator, but I could have reacted really angrily to him and he was willing to put himself in front of that potential rage bomb.<br />
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After a night of pondering and a very sweaty morning yoga class, I decided to give him another shot. I messaged him to tell him that I'm game but that he's going to have to prove his emotional maturity and offer of friendship before things get sexual between us again. He has agreed so we'll see how it goes.<br />
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If nothing else, I practiced demanding respect and consideration, which isn't a muscle I exercise often. And if all goes well, I'll have my fun fuck buddy back. Plus, I finally have an answer to that big, fat <i>WHY</i>?Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-575732100365497812015-05-18T13:26:00.000-07:002015-05-18T13:26:24.935-07:00The Pup Part Two: Headgames and HeartbreakI knew developing feelings for people was a risk I was taking when we opened things up, but I didn't think it would happen so quickly, or that those feelings would be for someone who would, unexpectedly and (seemingly) out of character, treat me cruelly.<br />
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I'd really been hoping when I wrote the last post that all my weird insecurities and fears that The Pup was doing 'the fadeaway' despite his assertions to the contrary were in my imagination. When I mentioned his decreased communication, he apologized, promised to improve, then stopped messaging all together.<br />
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*sigh*<br />
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I just don't get it. If he decided he wasn't interested in me, I don't understand why he wouldn't simply tell me and cut it off cleanly. His last message to me was, "Ooh, I'd love that" when I mentioned getting together when he was finished his exams. I sent him two more texts after that, one congratulating him for being done with his exams, then one a few days later wishing him a Happy Birthday. Nothing.<br />
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By the time I sent the Birthday message, I was pretty sure it was done. It had been 5 days since his last confusingly-enthusiastic message, but I was finally coming to terms with believing his actions rather than his words. As an anxious person, I really try to take people at their words because I can't always trust my interpretation of actions. Someone glances at me, I think they're judging me and finding me wanting. Someone doesn't seem as excited to hear from me as I'm expecting, I assume they dislike me. I know I have a warped sense of people's responses to me, so I tend to believe words. When the words are running really contrary to actions, it really fucks with me.<br />
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I decided to be classy, despite wanting to send a 'What the absolute fuck?" message, and I sent him a text wishing him Happy Birthday, said it had been nice getting to know him, and wished him the best for the future.<br />
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Nothing.<br />
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I guess I shouldn't have expected a response. When you cut off contact with someone, you cut off contact, but there was no discernible reason to do so, so I kept racking my brain to figure out what I'd done wrong. Of course, my brain being the hyper-critical place it is, I was able to come up with everything I'd said and done since we'd met as a reason for why he'd dump me without notice.<br />
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It's especially shitty because I'd totally fallen for him. He'd seemed so nice, so genuine, so geeky - all the things that normally signify a good guy. He had a cat. He volunteered with troubled teens. How could he end up being the kind of guy who would just brick wall me? How could he not respect me enough to just tell me he didn't want to see me anymore?<br />
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How am I not worth a couple words in a text message?<br />
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That final question is really what has caused me the most distress over the past few weeks as I grappled with having my heart broken by someone for the first time in over 20 years (who didn't die or move away). I went from the high of feeling like this awesome, sexy, desirable, confident older woman that he should feel lucky to get to be with to a piece of discarded trash, unworthy of respect or consideration, even from a 'nice' guy.<br />
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I was pretty shattered and sank into a fairly dark funk that I'm only now crawling out of - the timing of everything paired with the anniversary of my mother's death and mother's day back to back to back really adding to the pain and despair. I've felt really guilty as well, since my husband has had to be witness to my heartbreak over another guy. It's been hard to talk about it with him, yet he's the person I go to when I'm in pain and need to talk. One of the weirdest parts of this style of relationship.<br />
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I'm back on the dating horse (only way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Amirite?) I've chatted with a few people and even slept with one of them, though I have to confess that our connection was nothing like what I'd had with the pup. Eventually, I will stop comparing people to him and the feeling of loss will fade.<br />
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I know that it will just take some time, and that even if I had an answer to my 'But Why????', I might like it even less than the stuff I've come up with. It's still exceedingly difficult not to keep thinking it would be better if I only knew why.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6724660563496814200.post-91820428060288487212015-05-05T17:12:00.000-07:002015-05-05T17:13:46.270-07:00The PupI started chatting with a young guy (26 to my 41!) from okcupid after he messaged me. He's a fellow geek and we had a ton to chat about which made it easy. He's definitely got a thing for older women and since I seem to have a thing for younger guys, it worked out well. We texted like mad for about two weeks before we were able to hook up. Finding time that wasn't already booked with other social activities was tricky enough, coupled with needing to find time when my husband was off at other activities so he didn't feel displaced from the house for my dates.<br />
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During those two weeks my ego received a delightful stroking. He was so eager. Constantly talking about how he couldn't wait for it to be the day we'd planned to meet up. We chatted and sexted and exchanged photos. He even sent me video of him jacking off and coming, which I find ridiculously hot. My husband and I started calling him 'the pup' when I first started chatting with him (a reference to a hated nickname my husband had been given by one of her other boyfriends when he was 19 and dating a much older woman), but it turned out to be a surprisingly accurate for my new beau.<br />
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I'd attempted to scare him off with really detailed descriptions of our other activities. He'd never been in a non-monogamous relationship and I wasn't sure he could handle it up close, but he just thought my descriptions of other partners and encounters were hot. He even talked me through my nerves before a date with another guy when I started freaking out and considered cancelling - <i>It's going to be great. You're going to have such a good time. He's gonna fuck you so good</i>. At that point, I was kind of smitten.<br />
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When we first started chatting, I was worried about him being insecure, but as he got comfortable, he got confident, going as far as to ask me to greet him at the door for our first hook-up totally naked. I ovaried-up and did so. It was pretty exhilarating. He's really skilled as well - maybe a little chintzy with the oral the first time round but we'd engaged in two weeks of foreplay so I don't blame him - we've had great sex together. Really. Great. Sex.<br />
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It's after the sex that things get weird. He doesn't want to stick around for long, which I hear is a typical guy thing, but I'm used to the lingering chatting of swingers after the fact. I didn't ever have casual sex when I was young so I've never experienced a guy wanting to run out the door to go get Subway when the fucking is done. I know different orgasm hormones do different things to the male brain after sex but I'm still there, sexy and naked, it seems like it should be worth sticking around a while for. He doesn't text for a few days, when I'm also used to the swinger messages the day after mentioning how much fun we've had. I've ended up texting him, because I refuse to be all idle and passive, but there's that stupid Cinderella part of my brain that wants him still chasing me.<br />
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I've been so socialized to follow the fiercely engrained, patriarchal bullshit script that tells me the only way I have value is if I'm being pursued and if I give up that role, no one will want me. Yet it's the powerful, confident, take-what-I-want woman I am that attracts people to me. Strangely, I can be the powerful me during the pursuit and sex, but the passive, insecure me pops up once the afterglow wears off.<br />
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I'm hoping it's just part of the learning-curve, since I'm so new to the sluttery thing. I've been operating under the MO of pretending like all is normal and simply texting him, but the post-coital distance has been harder on me than I'd like it to be. I'm probably going to have to ovary-up in this arena as well and simply tell partners what I need/expect after the fact.<br />
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Dammit! I signed up for cock, not personal growth!Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15176863726469642967noreply@blogger.com0