“Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips, as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them he felt an unknown and timid pleasure, darker than the swoon of sin,”
― James Joyce

Apr 202016

Q is for quickly, in my A to Z Challenge, as the very next day after my husband turned me away I sought solace with another.

I haven’t been single in forever and I don’t do alone well.

The day after I was turned away from my husband, with a ridiculous amount of tears shed, empty and exhausted, an ex called me up. He had heard what happened (I took my family back to my hometown, half a day away from where my husband was living, and apparently word travels fast).

My ex’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect, or imperfect, depending on how one was to look at it. His call came through as I was on the phone with my husband, crying hysterically and begging him to give us a chance. After I hung up the phone, rejected and defeated, I called my ex back.

“Do you want to come over for tonight? You probably don’t want to be alone.” How true that was, though I had a family member – it wasn’t the same solace or distraction – she was giving me sympathetic looks and shrugging her shoulders. He would provide a distraction and didn’t give a damn that my marriage ended – wouldn’t even mention it. He was comfortable, safe, and if I wanted a further distraction of sex I knew I could have that too. I debated for all of a minute and agreed, immediately headed over.

He poured me a glass of wine, put on a movie. I fell asleep, finally crashing from all the turmoil and travel. He woke me up to cuddle in his bed.

“You should just ride me,” he suggested in a nonchalant way. I discussed STI tests (he had one since his last partner) and how I don’t get off on top even as I straddled him and slipped him inside of me, no foreplay apparently necessary. Sometimes memory makes me forget how a partner feels inside of me, but I still remembered a position and tempo that he liked that I moved into, clenched down when I began to feel tired again, and he came. He blushed a little under me, “oops,” he said, “I’m sorry.” We both knew that he was done for the night, his drive was completely incompatible to me, and while I could’ve requested his mouth and fingers to make me climax, I simply didn’t care at the moment.

“It’s okay,” I leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips as I raised my hips and slowly made him withdraw from inside of me. “I knew it was about you this time. I don’t mind,” and I truly didn’t. I cuddled into his arms and my fingers stroked up and down his chest hair, loving the feel of it before I became too hot and rolled over to go to sleep.

During the night, sometimes he made brief movements to cuddle in his sleep, which woke me – unused to his body beside mine anymore, and I would gently extract myself to go back to sleep. Just being there beside a lover soothed me enough; I did actually sleep for about four hours, and I even stayed until about halfway through the next day, enjoying the easy companionship as he cleaned around his house and I sipped coffee, surfing on my phone.

The next night I spent alone, though I knew I could have called my ex to come over. I was a wreck and my husband and my conversations made me feel that much more alone.

 Posted by at 8:04 am
Apr 192016


P is for Pressure, for my A to Z Challenge. Written two months ago. If I were to edit this, it would be to add the note that I decided within three days to move all my belongings and family due to five factors:

  1. my husband was across the country 
  2. our marriage wasn’t doing good
  3. Since he was across the country because he got out of the military, we no longer had medical insurance
  4. he wasn’t going to call the military and get them to move his family (I’d given up hope after six months of this phone call not being made)
  5. I could get a job in a state I wanted to work in with great benefits, including medical insurance

I drove across the country, literally from one coast to the other, with my family and what belongings I could take. I only stopped to sleep, get gas, and food. I was exhausted but pushed on, rushing because I was finally going to moving in with my husband and I had job interviews to make.

Every time he talked to me, he mentioned how hard it was for him to know that soon he wouldn’t see his girlfriend all the time, how great his girlfriend was, how soon I would meet her, asking how soon I would allow them to see each other all the time again. He told me the night before I was to arrive that she sent me a message asking when I would meet her so that I would be fine with them.

Five hours before I arrived, 42 hours later on the road, he told me that some kink events I wanted to go to I couldn’t, because I was a bad person, because he went to those things with her and it just wasn’t right that we would be going instead of him with her.

I told him, exhausted and really tired of every mile closer to him getting more negative about my arrival because of what it meant to their relationship, that I didn’t want him to have a relationship with her anymore. I asked him to stop all together, all communication, for at least several months so that we could reconnect and establish a solid foundation so that when he pursued polyamory again, it was healthier and happier.

He told me he didn’t want to but would, after unsuccessfully trying to get me change my mind.

Four hours to him, 43 almost nonstop hours later on the road, and he told me that he didn’t want me to come, that he changed his mind, that he simply could not end things with her, that he didn’t want to. He called himself selfish, said his happiness was the most important thing to him right now, that he compromised so much in our marriage that he wasn’t willing to do it anymore.

“It’s not about her,” he told me, which I believe is a lie. “We could break up and I wouldn’t care. I would find someone else. This is me. This is who you created. You forced this down my throat and now I’m going to do this.”

“I’ve done this, I’ve stopped it for our marriage,” I countered, thinking back to when I tried polyamory and he asked me to cease all communication – which I did.

“Some people are just more willing to sacrifice than others. I’m not willing. I’m not going to do this.”

“I have to come by this point. There’s no where else, it’s late, and I have our family. I’m only four hours away. I can’t believe this.” Remember I also was not alone in the car, hearing all these one sided tear-filled conversations that I simply couldn’t hide, though I did a poor job of trying as distraught as I was (something I regret).

I dropped off kids with family – not wanting them to see the argument that he promised, showed up where he was staying.

“I don’t want you. I don’t fucking like you. You hear that? I don’t fucking like you.” Those were the words that greeted me the minute I walked in the door, as he walked away from me as if he was afraid I would touch him.

“Okay,” I replied wearily, stripping down. “Do you want to take a shower with me? Because I’m taking a shower. I’ve been on the road for three days straight and I need a shower.”

“Did you hear what I said?  You still want to shower with me?! Why?”

“Because I need a shower, and because your mind is made up and there’s no use talking about it right this second.”

He looked at me incredulously, but stripped down and joined me in the shower. The whole time he was telling me how horrible I was, how I ruined our marriage, how I did this to us, how I forced us into non monogamy and now I wanted monogamy.

Soap on our bodies against as vast a distance as possible in a shower. “Why? Why now? Why when this whole time I wanted monogamy do you now want it?” He was so angry.

“Because we clearly can’t handle anything other than that, and what I want most in life is you and our future together,” I said wearily, barely aware of the heat from the stream of water cascading on my beaten down body. “I’m sorry you feel like I forced this. I did it all with your permission, I wouldn’t have otherwise, but I’m sorry I kept pushing the agenda.”

“You hurt me. Do you hear me? You hurt me!”

“I’m so sorry, that was never my intent. I can be monogamous, truly I can, because above all, I want you and our future.”

“I don’t trust that. You always said you wanted to connect to others. Why would this be different?”

Clean bodies, clouded minds. “Because I want you above all else. But I understand that you don’t trust that, I respect that. But where do we go from here?”

“I’m going to have a relationship with her. It may get very serious. She may live with us.”

He’s known her 2.5 weeks.

“You can’t take a couple months break and commit to our marriage?”

“No, I don’t even know that I want our marriage. I don’t like you. You hurt me. I’m not giving up anything for you.”

My brain cried silently at all the sacrifices I’ve made to our family by moving them around, my financial security by changing jobs constantly, my loss of friends and social life, the isolation and loneliness so deeply felt at times. I simply said, “okay. Then we’ve no where else to go. I want you to take a break, you don’t want to.”

I leaned up, threw my arms around his wet body, and kissed him. He returned the kiss, desperately, angrily, his teeth ground into my lips, his body pressed mine roughly against the cold tile wall. His fingers dipped down and finger fucked me roughly, almost lifted my body off the ground with just that pressure.

He gripped my hair and forced me down to my knees, roughly fucked my face, moved and positioned me to rim him, the water drowning me between his cheeks.

We got out of the shower, a sopping mess, and tripped our way to the bed, bodies and mouths intertwined. I straddled him and bit his neck, sucked. “God I forgot how good you were at this. So fucking good. I love how you can be so rough and not leave a mark.”

He arched into my mouth, stroked himself between my legs. I moved lower, wrapped my mouth around his arousal, my fingers dipped lower.

“Grab the lube. I want you fist me.”

“I can’t fist you, you try to break my hand,” I protested, but attempted it nonetheless while my mouth sucked.

“God you’re going to make me cum before we even have sex,” he moaned, and pushed me on my stomach, roughly entered me. I orgasmed immediately. I tightened in the pleasure and the need to hold him in some way and never let him go. “Don’t you fucking tighten,” he ordered, and I relaxed despite the orgasms, until he finally commanded I tighten and make him cum.

Right afterwards, he pushed me away and complained that it was always about sex for me. He told me to not touch him, that we were divorcing, that he couldn’t be with me any longer.

Despite my begging, bargaining, pleading, I woke up the next morning and left to a town half a day away where other family might take me in, with my few precious belongings and even more precious broken family, knowing he wouldn’t change his mind. I didn’t know what else to do as exhausted and heartbroken as I was.

Could you see the signs, dear readers? Because I was blindsided. And angry that he had me move our family before turning us away right when we arrived.

He claims it’s because I demanded he stop seeing his girlfriend within hours of my arrival, but he kept telling me after we had sex how he’s known for years that I killed our relationship with my demand to open it up to polyamory, and he can never forgive me, doesn’t want to. If he knew for years, why did he wait until he had a girlfriend and his family transitioning to see him before saying something?

 Posted by at 8:00 am
Apr 182016

O, for the A to Z Challenge, is for Opposition. Every time I turned the corner in my dealings with my husband, I was met with opposition. I asked a very important question: if he would stop. Written three months ago and posted unedited.  

After less than a week, with several lies and disrespecting any boundaries on his end, I asked him to stop his relationship with another. We weren’t handling it right, we didn’t have the strengths to support each other such long distance with so many negatives already created in the very beginning. I figured if I asked for it to stop so soon, the emotional attachment would be less and the separation would be easier. It would also not create such a long lasting and worse fissure in where he and I are obviously struggling.

He told me no. He didn’t want to stop things. He liked her a lot, he went into details about all the great things about her, about their connection, about how I have engaged in this and he’s finally found someone he wants to.

I told him that I knew my partners for awhile, that I respected his boundaries, that I moved slow to make sure everyone was comfortable.

“I thought you would handle this better,” he said.

“I thought you would be honest,” I countered. For me, it was the dishonesty that bothered me the most.

I was willing to forego any relationships in favor of monogamy until we were back together geographically and sorted ourselves out first; I was asking him to do the same.

He told me he didn’t want to, wasn’t going to, though he really wanted to be with me.

He knew my primary issues were the dishonesty and disrespecting of boundaries.

“I don’t trust you, that’s such a hard one to come back to,” I told him, so frustrated with how I felt backed into a corner.

“We can establish trust again. I will do better. Give me boundaries.”

And on and on we went again, with him refusing to discontinue the relationship even with the risk of it seriously hurting our relationship. I hated this position, what I was asking of him, felt selfish and possessive – two things that I don’t feel. I wanted him to be happy, I didn’t believe it was her fault (though I know nothing towards that end), it was all the problems on his end with communication towards me.

“We have a great foundation. We can survive this if I get a chance to see where it goes.”

“Our great foundation is honesty and communication, two things that are already screwed up in less than a week.”

“Give me boundaries if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

And on and on again. When backed into a corner where my concerns are blantantly disrespected again, what did I do? I told him I wanted him to be honest and not lie, especially about little shit. I told him I was concerned how on social media she was already changing her relationship status and naming him, with less than a week. I told him that I didn’t want her meeting family until we knew her a bit better as our family would not be okay with this, especially with us separated right now. I told him to take it slow, just kissing for now, savor and get a chance to know her.

I told him to be honest every other sentence.

“I can do that,” he told me after I expressed every concern.

I felt like I wanted to vomit. I felt like I was controlling his relationship and neither of us wanted that. But I was unsure how to proceed when he established boundaries for me for his comfort and that worked out well, so I was trying the same thing. I didn’t trust him and I wanted to reestablish that trust before things proceeded further.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll respect every boundary. Bottom line is I want to be with you, but I want to explore this potential.”

That night he called me up and we talked briefly. He told me in passing that she was coming over the next night and they were having sex. In my drunken state, I didn’t realize the significance. I woke up very early and realized he already broke the boundaries he forced me to give him. In getting on the computer to write and analyze how I’m feeling, I also found out that publicly he changed his social status to include her.

Fucking perfect.Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 8:30 am
Apr 152016

M is for MIMIR, a rope partner who was truly spectacular, for my A to Z Challenge. How I miss that man!

Mimir sought to understand me. His communication was always excellent and lengthy, and began far before he ever touched me and continued past the scene.

When we began sexual play in ropes, he requested after the first time that I give a number on my orgasm intensity so that he could gauge exactly how far to push me and/or how to tease when he was in the mood. I only gave a number on my orgasm intensity once – it’s something I would have to be reminded on at first, but perhaps it was enough as I made the reminder suggestion but he never asked again. He is naturally intuitive, in my opinion.

He was excellent at making me feel exposed: once, during sensation play, he included a lot of staring. I was fully dressed and told to stand in the middle of the room. He just sat and looked at me; being placed in the middle of the room I couldn’t hide. He placed in ear plugs then slowly caressed and undressed my body. When I was naked, he sat and stared again, with no blindfold on I was aware of how he looked at me, that he was looking at me. I must’ve moved or shifted because he came to the center and tied my wrists up and over my head to a point above. Now I couldn’t hide even if I wanted to and I felt all the more exposed.

He also always made me feel his control; whether it was a statement or an action. He would pin my wrists if they were untied, letting me know that I did not have control.

Words also were big for him; once my thigh was tied up, but only after he clued me in that it would be for awhile by asking: “what leg can you stand on best?”. While caressing me, he demanded, “look at me,” a hairbrush ran up my thigh, occasionally soft and occasionally thudding against my skin and pinkening it.”Feel your thighs,” and I felt both the soft traces of the caresses and and the sting from the impact.  “Pussy,” and I clenched from the word. “Imagine yourself cumming. Now release,” and I did with wonderment over the order obeyed. Always he was in control.

He’s also sparse with praise but reaffirms that coloring is good; I’ve been praised both times I’ve colored yellow and he never pushed to red.

I miss this type of utter domination. We only saw each other once a week, but it truly satisfied me in a way that is rare.

 Posted by at 9:20 am
Apr 142016

photo credit: Silence 2 via photopin (license)

photo credit: Silence 2 via photopin (license)

For the A to Z Challenge, I’m dredging up the posts I wrote right before he asked for a divorce. The letter L is for Lies. This was written three months ago and posted unedited.

Open honest communication has always been our strength. This is changing in my husband within two days of meeting a new potential partner for him.


Dialogue of a lie he told:

Him: It was weird, I came home from work, ate dinner, did laundry, went to bed early.

Me: That’s it?

That’s it.

You didn’t talk to her?

Just for a minute, just to find out the next time we can see each other.

*4 hour phone conversation discovered when paying the phone bill a few days later*

**There was no reason for him to lie. I didn’t care how long he talked to her, expected them to talk a lot when they first get to know each other. I’m not sure why he felt the need to create such a lie.

Dialogue of a lie he told the following day:

Me: How come you didn’t call or text me this morning?

Him: I was running late for work. I didn’t have time.

*Called her instead*  **also discovered the same day that I paid the phone bill

Dialogue of a lie he told the following day (day four she fetlife friended me)

Me: Are you planning on having sex?

Him: No

Her profile lists lover as relationship status.

It does?


Well, we were talking about it for this weekend.

I asked to be kept informed and for him to be open and honest

Asked on day 7 to stop.

Him: “I don’t want to. Our connection is…(half hour of again hearing how wonderful she is. I like…(another long length of time of how he’s becoming emotionally attached). Give me boundaries.”

Me: “Slow down, kissing only”

…Same day, several hours later, Him: “and tomorrow she’s coming over and we’re having sex.” He refused to discuss, it was simply a fact he was informing me about.

*Within 7 days of knowing her, she spent two nights over at his house in a row.

Asked on day 8 to stop.

Him: “I want to tell you to fuck off.”

I discovered they were facebook friends, and asked why I wasn’t told.

Him: Don’t worry about it, it was a bit ago.

Me: You’ve known her 9 days, in that time I’ve asked to not be surprised every single day by something. How is that a bit ago?


Asked on day 9 was it worth the stress on our relationship

Him: “do you mean if the juice was worth the squeeze? Yes.”


 Posted by at 8:55 am
Apr 132016

For the A to Z Challenge, the letter K is for Kink. In having sex with an old lover, I realized that I simply want kink to be a part of my sex life, that it is important to me.

The man that I was polyamorous with, I am still friends with. He visited me recently, and now that I have my husband’s permission to do whatever I want, we had sex again. I just had to be crystal clear that it wasn’t a relationship – my husband doesn’t particularly like this man after our first go with polyamory.

What’s different about sex now versus then with this man is that now I realize I don’t like sex without BDSM aspects to it.

He has a smaller cock than what I’m used to, but it’s absolutely perfect for hitting my g-spot so that’s not an issue. I like that he doesn’t hurt me no matter how fast or furious we go at it, unless he puts a ring into his prince albert piercing. I love that piercing, love how the metal feels against my g-spot that he expertly hits, love to feel it shifting and rubbing inside of me, the contrast of the steel hardened point and the soft shaft.

He has an amazing ability to orgasm multiple times and go all day long if I desire him to. He’s so gifted with his tongue it should be a payable service. He is all about my pleasure and focused on it in a way that is unusual and a huge compliment.

He’s a fantastic lover.

He’s also more suited to someone other than me, I realized, despite all these pros.

My husband has been telling me that I simply don’t like sex without some kind of pain or power at play, and I’m realizing he’s right. I don’t.

I’m sure I could ask my friend for some spanking (he’s quite good at that), hair pulling, power dynamics. But I’m also realizing that I don’t want to train someone like I have done in the past – I simply want them to do it or for it to be inherent. Maybe it’s just my current mood and I will change my mind – after all, I don’t want someone to be a mind reader, but I do want someone to be naturally dominant and not just a service top while having sex with me.

* Written three months ago. This post made me chuckle as I read it again, because now I am with the most vanilla man I’ve ever met, and I’m working on slowly teaching him kink, something three months ago I stated that I don’t want to do. 

 Posted by at 8:04 am
Apr 122016

For my A to Z Challenge, the J is for jilted, as apparently that what this new relationship of his caused me to feel. Written three months ago, posted unedited.

My husband met someone and wanted to know his boundaries, as he’s given me so many that he knows that he will have some.

And then he argued them.

And then every conversation for the four days (and within those four days, the five hours that he met her face to face), was about her and how I was being a bitch for putting any boundaries on him (yes, those were his words). He felt that he should be allowed to be at the same level I was with Mimir – and didn’t think it was a factor that he didn’t know her very well and that I’ve known Mimir for a year.

I understand his excitement at finding someone that he’s interested in, that makes him feel desired and cheers him. I am happy for him; I just wanted him to take it slow until he knew her.

After four days, he told me that the boundaries needed to be removed completely because he was going to be in danger of breaking them.

I would call that a dick move, except I’ve said those very words to him years ago when we first began polyamory. It hurt him severely, he felt like I didn’t respect the relationship, how he was feeling, what he was going through.

So he knows what that feels like, and also that was the reason our first attempt at polyamory failed miserably. I hurt both the people I was involved with, and didn’t handle the whole situation well, something I feel truly saddened about. I learned a hard lesson, and this go-around we decided to have an open marriage and respected the clearly defined boundaries. Thus far it was him giving me the guidelines. I respected and didn’t argue them and we slowly negotiated in our comfort zone with everyone involved.

So, I was a bit surprised when he told me he couldn’t keep the boundaries we had established after four days. I was concerned that polyamory wasn’t what we originally negotiated – open marriage was without the emotions.

“Yes, but you know me, I get emotionally involved,” he told me. He’s right, he does.

So now after just four days of what feels like an uphill battle, I was faced with a decision.

I truly want him happy and I do not want to micromanage or be concerned about his relationships with others, so I caved (and yes, I realize the word choice with that) and gave him everything he wanted. I feel like he’s a hypocrite, unfair, and selfish. I also feel like we’ll get through this anyhow, because I haven’t been so stellar throughout the course of our relationship either.

Only a couple of guidelines now. An STI test before sex with a new partner and condoms (he argued this as well, but we can’t control who our partners are also engaging with and it’s important for my piece of mind).

I told him I wanted to be informed of any new goings-on but I didn’t want to just hear about his new person. The ratio needed to be a lot higher on our relationship concerns/goals/dreams and less about this other person. Because over the course of four days, he contacted me a lot less, he needed to make me feel like I was still a part of his life. He said he no longer needed to hear about Mimir and my scenes.

And apparently we’re doing poly, so I need to find a boyfriend.

 Posted by at 8:51 am
Apr 112016

For my A to Z Challenge, the letter I for Illusion, as suddenly rope seemed to be clothing slowly exposing me to him. It was also incredibly erotic to me, so I’m including it in Masturbation Monday.

At one point, sweaty and breathless, heightened by pain and pleasure, Mimir slowed down during the middle of a scene.

I stood with my chest tied to a suspension point (in case I lost balance or for added security for I couldn’t move?) and I had enough movement to grip and hug a metal pole of the suspension rig. He began to untie the rope at my chest, moved it slowly and sensually across my body with the unraveling. With one strand still around the underneath of my breasts, he cascaded it down, held it to caress my skin softly.

Suddenly, despite my being fully naked for quite awhile, it felt like he undressed me slowly. I became so aware of my heaving breasts exposed, I felt the kiss of the air in the wake of the rope traveling down around my waist, around my hips I had the urge to pull the rope up as if it were pants and hold it there, down my thighs; my sex tightened at how vulnerable I suddenly felt, next down my legs which no longer felt steady. I lifted one foot and then the other as I would with pants as he navigated the rope as such.

Masturbation Monday badge - smallAfter the scene, he also discussed how – just like me – in this part of the scene he felt like he was undressing me as well.

 Posted by at 8:24 am
Apr 092016

Sinful Sunday

For the letter H, for the #AtoZChallenge, I am using some lines and a picture that taken during some hot moments.

Some thoughts I shared with a rope partner on what I found hot:


I like how you always grip my hair, how your hand is often around my neck. I like how it centers me, reminds me that I am not in control and just need to surrender.

When I was on hands and knees and asked: “can I?”. I almost winced at how I asked “can” rather than “may” but at that moment I wasn’t sure if I could, your permission gives me the actual ability by this point.

“Get in lingerie,” you tell me, and I throw on the silky slip of fabric. You acknowledge that being naked felt natural by this point in the scene and now shyness overcomes me as I get dressed in the silk.


The utter possessiveness at times – you arm wrapped around my body; I dug into your arm with fingers and you increased the pressure of my back tight against your chest, your face pressed to the side of my own, breath in ear, hand against throat.

The smell of my own desire after you pleased me standing, or of the condom after our bodies separated.

*The fantasy when the knife runs across his skin and I straddle him, grinding, my hair draped like a curtain, my control and his body at my whim, his noises instead of my own.

**This is a fantasy as this rope partner didn’t allow any control at any point, but I shared my fantasy with him anyhow.  

 Posted by at 9:51 am
Apr 082016

The letter G, for the A to Z Challenge. (Post written and unedited 3 months ago.)

What’s good for the goose is good for the gander

A conversation where my husband told he wanted to pursue a connection with a woman he just met, led to me harassing him a bit because he always does to my potential partners (so he would know how it felt) and sincerely asking him to be patient. Once he knew her for more than a couple of hours, we would talk a bit more.

He was frustrated; he felt like I was doing it to spite him and those perimeters were not where I was at – a lover as long as they were tested.

While I wanted him to know the frustrations he made me feel, and made no secret of that, I wanted to him to truly understand where I was coming from and feeling; I didn’t feel that I was holding him back – simply asking him to know his potential partner a bit more. I was still at the point where I couldn’t just have a lover if they provided a test: I needed his approval and it was only someone of a long time of knowing, a lot of open communication between everyone involved, slow steps and compromises. He didn’t know her beyond a few hours and I didn’t feel that I was being unfair.

He ended with saying that he understood his boundaries and respected them, that while he wanted more, they wouldn’t be a problem with upholding; but now there’s this new shiny potential in a woman, so he called me several hours later to renegotiate my boundaries of  public rope events, with dinner or drinks around those events only until he knew her a bit more, though kissing was allowed (and only kissing).

Apparently they had been texting all the next day, fired up and amped on the night before and the mutual attraction they felt towards each other. They were talking about going to each other’s places, when they could meet up again.

He complained about any boundaries being in place, how I had virtually none (conveniently forgetting even the week’s conversation of him placing more boundaries on me).

I get it. Matter of fact, I feel a bit bad that I am slowing or placing any boundaries. But the truth is that he was being bloody hypocritical at this point and it was also irritating me to no end.

“You want the freedom you don’t even allot me, and I’ve known my potential partners for longer. You have only seen her a couple of hours and you just want to open the floodgates for us both because now it’s convenient for you.” I couldn’t keep the anger of my voice.

While he listened respectfully, he had to be reminded constantly of how I didn’t have absolute freedom to pursue relationships, that there were constant compromising of perimeters and limits of comfort.

While he said his boundaries were understood and he respected them, he kept arguing about them and took that frustration into the telephone at me.

I listened respectfully, understood where he was coming from.

But it didn’t change the fact that he was being a hypocrite. I would have preferred zero boundaries from either of us (besides the STI test) so that we are free to pursue the potential connection in others openly, but he didn’t want that. So he bloody well has to follow his own rules. And I don’t want polyamory – we simply aren’t designed for that as a couple right now.

And that includes moving slowly, even if it risks losing that potential partner.

I understand that fear too.

I compromised on letting them go to each other’s places – though they have only met for hours the one time. He told me I have no boundaries anymore in the hopes that once he met her a few more times he wouldn’t either.

Because what’s good for the goose is good for the gander

 Posted by at 8:54 am