Friday, December 12, 2014

Soft spots

So, for context before we begin this entry. I'm currently sitting at this little desk thing in a hotel room while the guy I'm on a date with goes to his work Christmas party (he'll be coming back afterward). Already this evening, he gave me a great back rub after an incredibly stressful day at work and we had phenomenal sex where he finished into my mouth. Then we sat around, watched Duck Soup, and talked about our current favorite TV shows. Also, I got these amazing new knee-high socks because his wife is a shrimp (an incredibly sexy one) and they don't fit her tiny, sexy legs. And now he's on his way to his work party and I'm sitting here with some Gardetto's and a Shiner Bock to write this entry.

We also had a fun discussion about how unremarkable all of the above seems to us, while most of the people we interact with on a daily basis would be shocked.

In any case, let's get this entry underway, shall we?

I've been spending a bit of time recently watching pornography. I became a member over at A Four Chambered Heart, who happens to have as one of their video performers the breath-stoppingly sexy Owen Gray.

(Yes, the picture is actually from Where I do not have a membership but where Owen does perform and is still incredibly sexy.)

Anyway. This entry is not about him specifically. I just wanted to mention him because he is worth knowing about. And he happens to be a performer on the site that I've been watching porn on recently, so there you go. You're welcome.

What this entry is about is the misrepresentation of female arousal in pornography. (Ladies and gentlemen, the award for sentence most likely to be taken from a human sexualities thesis paper goes to...) See here my previously stated opinions on porn in general. Let's take a few moments to clarify vocabulary. By "female arousal," I don't mean simply, "is she having an orgasm or faking it?" I'm not here to judge female porn performers and whether or not they're having authentic orgasms. I've been knuckle deep in authentics and in fakers, and that's really the only way to judge. So whether or not somebody externally looks like they're having an orgasm is none of my concern. By "female arousal" I mean what is expressed in porn as being necessary to get a lady interested. Especially the tropes specific to her partner(s) gender.

For simplicities sake, I'm talking only about two style of porn. Straight (woman/man) and lesbian (woman/woman). Which I feel neither one has a very good grasp on what women actually enjoy. In straight porn, there's the myth that penetration=orgasm. There's lots of writhing around, but the woman doesn't actually start getting orgasmically invested until something is in or around her vagina. In lesbian porn, it's the eroticization of kissing. Woman-on-woman is all sensual touches, delicate licks, and practical orgasms just from being in the same physical presence as another vagina. (Don't even get me started on scissoring, which I'm sure serves a very great purpose for those who it works for, but the proliferation of which in pornography is right up there with facials as a standard "finishing" move in straight porn. The frequency of how often those activities happen in real life versus how often they happen in porn is, I think, severely less.) Women have this dichotomous choice to be either the cock-hungry nympho (straight porn) or the sensitive snowflake that only needs foreplay to feel satisfied (lesbian porn). There are, of course, exceptions to the rule. I'm just nattering about the "usual." There's two typical, mythical expressions of female sexuality in porn. The "penetration only" orgasm and women being so incredibly sensitive that kissing is erotic enough as sexual expression.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Moral Oral

No, sadly, this is not going to be an entry about that hilarious stop-motion show from [adult swim].

The other possible title for this entry could be: "Why I fuck married guys."

I've been meaning to write an entry specifically about this topic for awhile now, but it always seems to get pushed to the side. With the gang bang coming up this evening, I thought it time to officially bring the topic to fruition. There's the three (of course) main types of married gentleman at the parties:

1. Those who are married and in some form of open marriage. These guys either show up with their female partner who's going to also be participating at the party, or they're at the party by themselves with their partner's full knowledge and consent.
2. Those who are married, talk about it, but are clearly lying to their spouses. Yes, there are guys that actually do this. It's not limited to married men, but for purposes of this entry those are the ones I'm talking about. I have had guys in the past also explicitly mention girlfriends or other committed relationships that they were cheating on by being with me.
3. Those who are married and don't say anything about it. These aren't as easy to identify, as the knowledge that they're married comes second-hand. Somebody else at the party will know them and know that they're married (the nice thing about the parties being that nobody's going to snitch on that particular person to their spouse). 

When I first started out identifying as a poly single (well, at the time I just called myself a "slut"), I had this sanctimonious mindset that since I was completely honest and open with all of my partners, it was really important to me that all of them were also being completely honest and open with any of their other partners. I would ask people, "does your girlfriend know about you being out with me right now? Is she okay with it?" To go back to the different types from the gang bangs, if I met the "Type 1" guy, game on. Type 2? Not only would I decline to have sex with them, but I would also usually give them a bit of hell about how they weren't being the best type of person by lying in their relationships.

Then I had one of those moments where I spent a few days seriously analyzing why I was doing that.

And I realized there was also Type 3 married dude. More importantly, I realized that unless I had that second-hand knowledge that Type 3 was married, I had absolutely no idea that they were. I was asking guys if they were in relationships, but I took their yes or no answers completely at face value. It was entirely possible that Type 3s were masquerading as Type 1s, and I would have absolutely no evidence. I wasn't going on dates, then waiting until I had a chance to search state marriage licenses before I would have sex with somebody. 

I was recently talking to Frisbee about how I've had guys turn me down before because I'm married. "You're exactly the type of girl I'm into, but I can't do this because you're already married." For me, it's important for the people I have sex with to know a little bit about what they're getting themselves into. (I mean, besides my vagina. Hey-oooo.) So I take these rejections amenably and go on with my life. But if somebody's not going to let people know about their other committed-type relationships, I feel it encourages them to maintain the lie if they're otherwise going to be dismissed in advance.

I had a similar discussion once with a dude who would only have vaginal sex with his girlfriends after they started taking birth control. He'd also always wear condoms, but he wanted the double protection against having babies. Which, seems really smart and all until taken to the insane extreme of him having to physically be present when she took her pill to verify she was actually taking it. Was he going to check under her tongue à la Cuckoo's Nest to make absolutely sure she was taking it? Not that he actually was doing these things, those are just examples of the type of arguments I'm particularly good at making. The, "did you think about it this way?" angle. Control what you can have control over. Don't expend needless energy worrying about all the other contingencies. 

I think the best anybody can hope for is to just live their own romantic and sexual life in a way that's safe, sane, and consensual. Yes, that last one gets a bit tricky since this is an entry about how I'll have sex with people who are, for all intents and purposes, cheating. It's a bit of a loophole, but if me and said cheater are having sex, that's consensual between the two of us. It might not make me the most moral person on the planet, but I'm okay with that.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Web MD

One of the gentleman from the gang bangs recently recommended Paying for It by Chester Brown. Luckily for me, said gentleman is also a librarian, so I've got the comic on a bit of an outside-the-law inter-library loan. Briefly, the story's about a gentleman that has sex with prostitutes. I like it because it's not just, "look at me I did this thing." The story's not interesting just because he has sex with prostitutes, but because of the way he thinks about it. Brown's got some serious opinions about relationships, sex, and prostitution. There's a pretty significant Afterword portion I'm looking forward to, but in the meantime the comic's brought up a lot already that's made my mind pretty busy.

Also speaking of the gang bangs, for the past week or so, I've had really mild middle ear pain. Not anything unlivable, but it was incessant enough that I figured it was worth seeing a doctor about. After peering into my ear, the doctor said there wasn't anything he could see and that everything seemed fine. Recommended Ibuprofin and hot compresses; if symptoms persist seek further medical attention. He then asked if I'd engaged in any "strenuous jaw activity" lately. Apparently, pain from the jaw joint can manifest in the ear. Inside my head, I asked whether sucking dick for about an hour and a half counts as "strenuous." I'd been the designated fluffer at the last gang bang, and had dicks in or around my mouth for a pretty significant amount of the party. For those of you who are hollering about how don't I usually have dicks in and around my mouth at the party, and how was this any different, fluffing is incredibly different than typical party activities. First, position. Typical party participation means I'm either on my back, on my hands and knees, or some variation, and my mouth isn't always directly fuckable. Fluffing means I'm kneeling the entire time, and there's really not a lot of other options for where the dick is going to go except for into my mouth. (It's worth noting that after this party I was particularly sore in my thighs from kneeling for so long, while after a regular party I'm usually more sore in my abs (because frequent and intense orgasms.))

I'm not a real doctor, so I'm not saying that I gave myself an earache from giving too much head. I also didn't ask the actual doctor I was seeing, so I can't even recount for you what his face looked like when asked such a thing. Based entirely upon watching House, I like to imagine that it's pretty difficult to shock doctors; they've seen and/or heard variances upon human stupidity the likes of which the general populace can't even begin to imagine. Still, there are certain things even I don't feel appropriate to ask outside of these illusory internet ramblings.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Sugar and spice

Side-note before we begin this entry: I had to recently text all the ladies I work with about how Frisbee went out with a lady to watch Interstellar. (I legitimately had to Google the name of the movie just now, that's how little I care about the film. That's relevant to later things in this entry.) Once he got home, Frisbee first spent a good amount of time updating Now-hubby on how the movie was before talking with me about all the specifics of the date. I felt it necessary to text the ladies I work with about this lest they continue to imagine my little poly household looks like this:

Relevant parenthetical be relevant. I actually cared quite a bit about Frisbee going out to this movie, because it's sort of the first "outside" date that he's been on since we've more formally established our relationship. I set a few boundaries before he went: text me once he got to the movie theater and then after the movie in regards to whether he would be coming home or maybe he and the lady would be continuing the date in some fashion. He wound up coming home after the movie; we talked, and after a bit of processing time on my part, went over the things that are important to me going forward. Mainly that I be kept updated if they make any other plans together, and that I know if things change in any way either physically or emotionally between the two of them. First dates are weird, and it feels over-ambitious for me to already be anticipating the future for Frisbee and her. However, I've also come to recognize more concretely the things that I can reasonably ask for to help me feel included and still loved as the men in my life pursue other relationships.

All that aside, I cared very little about the actual movie they went to see. Unless it had been something I had actively wanted to see with Frisbee, the choice of film for this date did not matter at all. The fact that it was Interstellar (just had to scroll back up to remember the name) was almost a win-win. I don't care at all about the specifics of that movie, so I was more free to focus on the particulars of the date itself.

Which leads us to the main point of this entry, which is me being an incredibly judgmental douche on an almost daily basis.

I don't want to talk specifically, either, about movies. I want to talk about how I've grown to be almost immediate with my judgements, and how I tend to stick with them.

I'm an heiress to the Haterade empire. As early as third grade summer camp there was a girl in my bunk who spent every night crying homesick and me internally:

I guess what I'm getting at is I'm an acerbic bitch and I don't make any apologies for it. On the whole it's actually been incredibly helpful as I've cut through the majority of people I don't actually want to try and maintain some form of "relationship" with. Much like my approach to sexual contact, being direct with people I'm not interested in has been incredibly beneficial in that it establishes rather quickly a baseline with which to work from. Outside of the sexual realm, being conversationally unavailable with people I find just generally uninteresting has also proven beneficial in that I'm not wasting a bunch of time keeping up with inane conventions.

One notable example being this most recent gang bang, where there was a feature porn star attending. I went in expecting the men to be stupid (because omg a lady who enjoys sex so much she actually made it her profession what an oddity). I went in comfortable with the inflated ticket price for attendance (because a lady who's profession is sex deserves to be compensated for her talents). I went in with absolutely no expectations as to who this woman would actually be. Within the first hour of her being at the party and actually listening to her speak, I had formed my judgement based solely on her as a person, and spent the rest of the party biting my tongue and trying not to be in the same space as her for too long. It was a bit different, as anybody being paid an appearance fee is immediately suspect as far as genuineness. So I won't go into specifics and just leave it that I didn't think I'd get along particularly well with this woman.

Given years of practice, I'm skillfully quick at passing judgment. I'm also incredibly rigid once I've made a decision. But despite everything else, I'm rarely outwardly, openly cruel to other people. Which is why the majority of the time (outside of this blog) I prefer to not say anything at all.

Friday, November 7, 2014

The kind you don't take home to mother

Dell trying to Pretty Woman the gay prostitute in American Horror Story: Freak Show this week reminded me that I wanted to write an entry about Pretty Woman. Not so much the movie with Richard Gere and Julia Roberts, but the way that I've verbed the noun to mean any attempt to take a sex worker and "relationship" them.

As part of The German and I's new routine, we've been Google chatting and watching The Wire on Sunday afternoons. He's seen the entire series probably the same amount of times I've watched Queer as Folk (see: several). This is my first time through The Wire, and we've gotten to about the halfway point of season 2.

No spoilers, but there's a character in season 1 who works at a strip club and winds up being an informant for the police squad. By season 2, she's officially in a relationship with one of the detectives and wearing appropriate turtlenecks in his lavishly outfitted domicile.

There's a particular characteristic to this characterization that drives me crazy. It's the idea that there's only two types of sex workers in the world: the "good" ones who are just trying to make money until they can find something better, and the "freak" ones who actually enjoy the sex aspect of sex work. It's as though the latter have absolutely no idea what a sensible turtleneck even looks like, and don't have any interests beyond inspiring men with erections to sling dollars up on the stage.

It's completely impossible to be a "wild" woman and also be in a relationship. I'm pretty sure Shardene from The Wire had to tame shit down in the bedroom even though that's not the type of sex she's into, just because "good" girls don't actually enjoy freaky sex. In Pretty Woman, Vivian (Julia Roberts), gets to dress up fancy, attend polo matches, and eat escargot while her friend Kit...I don't know. Does a lot of coke and gets to drop in to the fancy hotel for her cut of the rent money? Which is not to say Vivian doesn't get to have good sex. If you haven't seen Pretty Woman I recommend it just purely for the piano scene.

I disagree more with the idea that once Vivian and Edward (Richard Gere) are officially "in a relationship," that type of on-top-of-a-piano sexiness can only exist as an exclusive event between them, and Vivian showing even covert outward sexiness to anybody besides Edward past this point of relationship exclusivity will be verboten. (Forgive me, The German. It's applicable.)

Hitting me right in the numbers

Were you thinking I forgot to update you on how the other Halloween party went? Nah, I just wanted to build up a bit of anticipation. So here's the details on that.

(Yes, there was a way more obvious gif choice, but I don't pander with my gif choices. Also, Columbia/Magenta is one of the best OTPs out there.)

The other Halloween party turned out to be sort of a regular persons Halloween party. You know, chips and dip, general mingling, absolutely no nakedness. Which was absolutely fine, because I got to see some great people that I haven't seen in awhile and even met a few new people that were very awesome. It was an interesting mix of folks, and I wound up connecting afterwards with some of them both on FetLife and on Facebook. Which is odd, as I tend to have a pretty strict, "no co-workers and nobody you're just looking to hook up with" rule when it comes to Facebook. So sending somebody from the party a message on Facebook about getting together to watch a movie and then maybe I could ride on their cock feels really, really weird.

There's really not as much to say about this party as there was about the first one. Not that I didn't have a good time, but I get the impression it's not as interesting to read about the conversation I had at this party about the Star Wars Christmas Special as it was to read about me going down on a woman while she gave her husband a blowjob at the other party. I know what you pervs want.

Monday, October 27, 2014


Bearing in mind my previous pronouncement of how little of a comic book nerd I am, this evening I happened across an episode of Fresh Air on my way home from frisbee that was all about Wonder Woman. More specifically about the creator of Wonder Woman, Moulton Marston. There's apparently a lady who has written a book about "The Secret History" of Wonder Woman (spoilers: the creator was in a poly relationship and may have also been into BDSM).

Also disclaimer: I didn't hear the entire show. I tuned in after browsing stations on the radio and hearing something about bondage, so I stayed on the station. I'd read a fair amount about Marston before, so once I figured out the interview was about him, I was even more intrigued about what they were going to talk about.

Overall, I was extremely unimpressed. Firstly, that the entire bondage angle was interpreted as an homage to suffragettes. Which I hate to get all high school Literature teacher about, but only looks at the very obvious correlations between what Marston was doing and similar illustrations of suffragettes breaking free of the "chains" of male supremacy. Wonder Woman's main weapon was a lasso. Which she trapped villains with and also had the power to make people tell the truth once they were tied up. No matter how many times Wonder Woman broke free of a situation where she was bound, her entire offensive strategy depended on binding others and then making them be honest. Bondage wasn't something used against Wonder Woman to show how she repeatedly broke free from evildoers (i.e. the patriarchy) as much as bondage was used by Wonder Woman to sustain the greater good and make otherwise deceitful people tell the truth.

I also took serious issue with Terry Gross's approach to the fact that Marston lived with both a wife and a mistress. Her question was framed more as a criticism - that Marston couldn't have really been a feminist and advocate for women's rights if he was romantically involved with two women at the same time. I don't remember the episode directly to quote it, but something about wouldn't it be more respectful if both women had a single husband they could devote their love to? And wasn't Marston enforcing his male supremacy by having two female partners at the same time? Despite the fact that Marston's mistress was the granddaughter of one of the founders of Planned Parenthood and would possibly be intelligent enough to enter a relationship where she felt respected and loved. Despite also that both women stayed together after Marston's death and that Marston's children are on record saying how loving and supportive the relationship between all three of their parents was. Both of these points were brought up by the author in response to the question, and are apparently focused on in the book. It would have been very easy to start the discussion about Marston's family on a more positive note instead of the challenge that it's not possible to be a feminist and also be in a poly-oriented relationship.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Maybe I'm not the only one

As promised, here is an update on how one of the sexytimes parties I went to was. (Side note before we begin, if you've never checked out Digitally Imported, I recommend doing so. I've been grooving to tunes there for about 11 years, and the way the site's evolved over time is fucking crazy. The tunes are still amazing. It's a bit like Pandora where you can listen for free if you don't mind ads every now and then, but you can also pay for an account if you want just music.)

Here's all the scintillating details for y'all.

I showed up fairly early (the party started at 8, I was in the door at about 7:45). Two reasons for this. 1. I'd never been to the location before and I sometimes have amazingly bad luck finding new places, so I wanted to give myself extra time to circle around a neighborhood awkwardly staring at house numbers if I needed to. 2. If I'm new to a location/group of people, I like to be able to sort of establish the space before it gets overwhelming crowded.

For those who are interested, this is the group that hosted. The group has an advertised bi-friendly emphasis, which is pretty rare in my experience. Especially with both male and female bisexuality being welcomed.

General impressions: there was a little bit of everything, which made this party really fun. I'd list it on the whole as a swinger party. (Maybe at some point in the future I'll do an entry on my criteria for what establishes one type of party from another - I'm pretty categorical as a fault.) This was one of the better ones I've been to. They had things set up really well, with a social/dance area, two sort of more "open" play spaces, and then one room designated as "couples only," if people wanted more privacy.

Although almost half the people in attendance had absolutely no idea what I was dressed up as (it was a Halloween/costume party). Disappoint.

(Note: that is not actually me in that picture.)

I  had heard about this particular party through a couple I know from the gang bangs. There were a few especially enjoyable moments during the party where I had an opportunity to play with them. Fingering her/fucking her with the Feeldoe while she sucked him off, riding his face while she sucked his cock, getting fucked by him with my face buried in her pussy. Really just getting an opportunity to feel another woman's vaginal muscles clench around my fingers - that's one of my favorite things.

I especially appreciated having people I had previously played with at the party because it eliminated that incredibly awkward "let's have small-talk conversation until one of us initiates sexytimes" thing that can happen. The majority of swinger parties I've been to have this initial sort of middle-school dance feel to them (well, except everybody at swinger parties is usually old enough to actually drink, whereas in middle school you were just sneaking the booze under the radar). Everybody just mills around, sipping from their solo cups and making conversation like, "How long have you been in the lifestyle? How long have you and your partner been together? How did you find out about this party?" Usually once everybody's properly inebriated (usually about two to three hours into the party), the clothes start coming off and things actually kick off. This isn't necessarily a judgement call, as I've been told some people attend swinger parties just to hang out with like-minded individuals and have conversation. Personally, I like attending parties because I like connecting with new, interesting people. And one of my favorite ways of connecting with people I find interesting is in a sexual manner. So I'm usually the one, if I'm interested in somebody, who will abruptly derail a conversation to say something like, "Would you like to go see how it feels to have my mouth around your dick?"

Which, of course, brings me to the men at the party. I haven't yet written an entry about the "single male problem," because that could prospectively take an entire lifetime to appropriately discuss. Let me just briefly say that, in my experience, men at swinger parties (whether coupled or single) aren't all that different from men I encounter everyday. At this particular party, I met a fantastic guy who was new to the lifestyle and had a really great time talking to him about the different varieties of things we've seen. There was an incredibly sweet moment where he agreed to put my shoes on and lace them for me, sitting on a pillow on the floor and then french kissing me afterward. We spent a good amount of time afterwards talking about how things like that don't necessarily have to be a sub/Domme dynamic, but can still be incredibly fun.

Shoes I was wearing, for reference:

I also met a great guy who was on the sidelines when I was using my Feeldoe the first time, and later approached me and asked if I'd be willing to peg him with it. Direct requests on sexual fantasies gives me a raging hard-on. I had a fantastic time fingering his asshole and then fucking him while he was on his back, grabbing onto my shoulders to pull me deeper. We finished that session with him climbing on top of me (sans Feeldoe) and jerking off onto my tits. Fantastic time.

On the other side, there was the guy who assumed because he had cornered me earlier in the party to talk my ear off about the minutiae of his life meant that he was allowed to come up later after I left the couples only room and grope me while telling me how sexy he thought I was. I'm pretty proud of myself for in that moment saying, "please don't touch me," because there have been times in the past where I would have let it happen because nakedness and sexy atmosphere and he's just trying to be complimentary.

There was also the guy who came up to me in the kitchen and told me I didn't sound enthusiastic enough about having a good time. Because male opinion on how you're supposed to be acting, looking, or feeling is always necessary and appreciated.

All in all, 10/10 would attend again. Stay tuned next weekend for details on the next party! 

Monday, October 13, 2014

Watchu looking at?

In my general travels through alternative sexuality, "male gaze" is something that comes up periodically.

In my copious amounts of spare time (read: when stuck in traffic during my commute to or from work, or usually just before I'm about to go to sleep), I have this great hobby of analyzing things to the point of absurdity. Usually winding up saying to myself, "why the fuck do you care so much about this?" and then scratching the whole thing.

I got into one of these analysis overdrives a few days ago about femdom porn and the male gaze - whether all the vinyl and high heels are just the male gaze subtly enforcing itself even from a submissive stand-point. True to form, I spent a few hours having a little debate about the whole thing with myself in my head, and then ended it with, "you know what? If it makes the people participating feel good, it doesn't really matter."

There have been situations, though, where I've been acutely aware of how much the people involved aren't liking what they're doing in a sexytimes situation. And it's difficult to separate those instances from the male gaze, because there are two particular ones that I encounter fairly regularly.

1. The woman who's doing an MFF threesome as some sort of obligation to her male partner.

2. The woman who's brought to a gang bang party because it's a fantasy of her male partner for her to participate.

In both cases, it's apparent usually from the very beginning that the woman's not into it. Either they go completely dead fish or, in a sort of "if you can't beat 'em" fashion, get ultra-porny. They're participating to appease a male perspective of what's "hot" and not out of any actual interest of their own. If I'm being completely shitty and stereotypical, these women are easy to pick out because they wear the same suffering expression sitcom men put on when forced to watch a "chick flick" or hang out in anything remotely resembling a retail establishment that sells women's apparel.

Moral of the story? If it makes you happy to participate in something sexy, go ahead and do it. If it doesn't make you happy, there's no obligation for you to participate. (Side note for all those fucking "we're open but only as long as we always play as a couple" couples: If you want to participate in something sexy that will make you happy but will make your partner unhappy, please stop dragging them into it anyway. You will survive doing something fun and sexy without your significant other there the entire time. I promise.)

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Updates and stuff

So, Friday night Now-hubby discovered I have never seen any of the Indiana Jones movies.

We spent last night watching Raiders and will probably wind up watching Last Crusade sometime today. I'm not sure if I took away exactly what Now-hubby was hoping for from the film, but it was still fun to cuddle up with him and watch something he enjoys. Even if I had to suspend disbelief on how a Nazi got a completely perfect image of a medallion burned into his hand just by picking it up while it was hot. (Also, how they didn't immediately notice it sitting on the table when they walked into the bar. "Hi, I'm looking for a giant fucking bronze circle. Sort of like that one that's hanging obviously off the centerpiece on that table over there.")

Frisbee and I have been gradually getting accustomed to actually living together. I'm loathe to measure relationships by lapse of time - for me, there's always an equability with prison sentences when people measure their relationships based on how long they've been together. Let's just say there was a period of time where Frisbee and I saw each other maximum of two days out of the week, and now we see each other every day of the week, which is super nice. There's also, though, the inevitable jesus christ this is really who I am every day of the week realization that I'll just let Carrie sum up for me.

So far I would like to give myself kudos for being able to rationally express what I'm feeling (if not always right in the moment, at least a bit later when I've had a chance to think about things), and kudos for Frisbee for being a really understanding and amazing human being. Here's to it maybe continuing to be awesome.

In the next few weeks, I'll be attending a few Halloween/sexytimes parties, so stay tuned for exciting updates as to how those go. One of them is with a group I know and have been to parties with before, so I'm excited for it. (Not so excited to drive into Michigan early the next day for a family event, but that's what energy drinks were invented for.) The other party is more of a question mark, but it's always fun to try new things and then come here and write about them. 

Friday, September 26, 2014

I put the "tit" in "competition"

I've developed two new fun games I like to play when I'm out in straight society.

Well, actually three, but one of them is currently in development. I'll still tell you about it, but it takes a bit more involvement than the first two. 

The first game is played by listening to one side of a person's phone conversation and interpreting their half of the conversation in the most sexual way possible. It's especially helpful if you imagine that the person on the other end is being as disgustingly ribald as possible, so the person who's conversation your overhearing is really struggling to keep things rated G because they know you're within earshot. Simple things like, "Yes." "That works for me." "5 today." "Yes." can become incredibly interesting when you think about the other half of the exchange going something like this: "Did you remember not to wear panties today?" (Yes) "I'm going to fuck you until you pass out when you get home today." (That works for me.) "How many times have you jerked off thinking about me?" (5 today.) "You'll give yourself one more orgasm before you get home?" (Yes.)

The second game is called: Guess Who's Really on a Poly Date? This one can be played pretty much anywhere. You never really know if said people are actually on a poly date or not, but it's still fun just for the sake of conjecture. For example, any grouping of people with more than 3 individuals that aren't obviously a family might possibly be 3 adults on a poly date. Maybe it's a couple trying to woo a single. Maybe it's 3 singles all getting together for something freaky. The more people in the group, the more fun the game becomes. This one is a bit of me being excessively optimistic about how many nonmonogamous people there actually are in the world. Mostly the people I imagine on a poly date are actually work colleagues or neighbors or something else equally boring. It's still sort of an amusing game to play.

The third game Now-hubby and I are working on putting together. I call it Platitudes Bingo. The basic gist is I'm going to create a bingo card of the most commonly said things among straight people. For example, there will be squares devoted to "Stereotypes about the opposite gender," "Bragging about sexual exploits," "Remarks about how 'wasted' somebody was," "Sexual shaming," "That one guy who only speaks in Family Guy quotes," and "Did you see that thing on Facebook?" Then, whenever I get a Bingo I'm going to throw glitter all over the person. There was a part of me that wanted to make this a drinking game, but even my liver couldn't handle that amount of abuse.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Work it out

It's taken an incredibly long time for me to get my head around how standard relationships work; I'm still not completely sure I understand them. To be fair, I've never really been in one, so the only basis I have for how they work is friends of mine and portrayals in TV shows/films. Completely second-hand, totally inauthentic experiences. I seriously do not understand how it works beyond these 3 rote steps: 1. Two people meet. 2. Two people decide they want to be "exclusive" with only each other. 3. Perpetual happiness or complete disillusion/dissolution. (I thought of both words, both are appropriate, so just deal with it people.)

I know there has to be other steps in there - phases where the two people discuss things about the relationship. But my friends tend not to tell me about those phases. Mostly because I am an intolerable bitch and am bored by other people's philosophical relationship problems. "But what do you think he meant when he said that?"

TV shows/films don't really focus on "let's talk about our relationship" because that's not cinematically riveting compared to all the other dramatic shit.

Which is not to say that I didn't go through similarly esoteric steps when getting together with Frisbee and Now-hubby. There are a lot of similarities between standard relationships and poly/open/what have you relationships. The big curiosity for me, I guess, is step 2. How people make the decision that one other person will be the only one they touch genitals with for however long the exclusivity winds up lasting. That's just...such an odd idea for me.  

I'd like to take a small moment and reassure everyone, though, that just because my relationship allows me to touch a whole bunch of wieners and have awesome sexy times with lots of interesting people, things are not always sunny. I still need to do all those awkward relationship-y type compromise things with Frisbee and Now-hubby. I strongly recommend the whole "monthly meetings" thing. It's an awesome way to have a regular check-in with each other, although it can't always anticipate every possible scenario.

I was thinking the other day about how people in relationships argue about stupid little things. How the towels get folded, how often the dishes get done, etc. They're menial things, really, but if you've established any kind of life as a single person before getting involved with somebody else, they can feel like an essential part of who you are.

When the possibility of sexual activity and/or relationship attraction to other people gets added in, I find myself falling into those same feelings as finding out somebody likes to fold their pants in half instead of in thirds. 

Sometimes I'll play a game with people I know. It's called "Would you hit that?" It's a simple, "yes/no" type game, and you play it by saying yes or no to whether you would have sex with other people around in the place where you're playing the game. Playing this game with acquaintances can be fun, and a neat way to learn about particular things they might be into that I wasn't aware of previously. 

Play the game with Frisbee or Now-hubby, though, and it's like a fucking land mine field of, "why don't we have more in common in regards to the people we're attracted to?" I once asked my bestie about this phenomenon, and she explained it in the best way that only a bestie can. To paraphrase: I want a transitive property of love. I love this person, therefore they will love all the other things I do as well. It doesn't quite work out like that, and I'm working on being okay with it.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Label Maker

We got into a discussion at work today about person-first language. For anybody unfamiliar with special education or disability awareness, the idea is to always put the person ahead of the diagnosis.
To not focus on the different ability level of the person, but instead emphasize the commonality of personhood. i.e. "A person with Autism" vs. "The autistic person." The former shows person-first language.  (There is great disagreement about Deaf, as it's considered a cultural identifier, especially when it's got the capital D. I tend to default to using both - "A person who's Deaf.") 

One of my most favorite podcasts, Poly Weekly, recently did an episode about being introverted and also polyamorous. It got me thinking about person-first language because the entire episode was chock full of people saying sentences that started like this: "As an introvert..."

Side note: I am completely in love with Capaldi as the new Doctor Who. I keep hoping Frisbee or Now-hubby will start watching it with me and be all, "omg this is fantastic" and then Capaldi can be their Eccelston.

Anyway. Sentences that begin, "As a so-and-so..." are definitely not using person-first language. But my cringe-face goes beyond just that. I have sort of a love/hate relationship with labels. On the one hand, I think they're useful to establish baselines in conversations and give people an idea of where you're coming from when you're talking about a subject. On the other hand, I don't think any label can exist on it's own without at least a bit of discussion i.e. "Oh, that's what you mean when you use the word, 'bisexual.' Here's what I mean when I use that word." Because words are tricky and the human experience is variable. 

My second big problem with labels is that they can sometimes become an easy scape-goat for behavior. Not in the sense that, "I'm making out with this woman because I identify as a lesbian and for me that means I find other women sexually attractive." Whatever people. Get your respective freaks on. You don't need to justify it to me.

I'm not talking about excusing sexual behaviors. I'm talking about scape-goating general personality traits. It sometimes feels as though there has to be a label tacked onto everything; it's not enough to just simply observe that something happened. Something happened because of a particular personality trait or characterization of the people involved. Labels can remove the responsibility to analyze and process one's own behavior. A given event occurs and because of a given personality label the expected given outcome is reached. c follows b which in turn followed a. Nice and easy, lemon squeezy. Life becomes less about thought and more about finding the appropriate noun to stick over all the messy stuff.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

It's not you

It's officially back-to-school time, which means I had to put on an actual bra for the first time in about 4 months. It's not that terrible until the end of the day when I have to get back in my car, which has been sitting in the humidity all day. Then autonomic reflexes kick in and I feel little drops of sweat trickling down my back and pooling underneath my tits.

We have 85% staff return to the classroom this year, which is pretty neat. In the past few days, we've been updating each other on our respective summers and things that are new with us. Which means I've had a chance to update everyone on how things with Frisbee and Now-hubby are going. I shared my favorite picture of my now incredibly freaky lifestyle, one I took just after getting home from Germany. It shows Frisbee sitting on the recliner watching television and Now-hubby on the couch with his laptop. I'm taking the photo from the third chair in the room, and my copy of one of the Dresden Files novels is in frame on the arm of the chair. 

We're really disgustingly boring most of the time. I can't speak for either Now-hubby or Frisbee, but the transition to being together 24/7 has been surprisingly easy and natural. Which is interesting for me, because first meeting and establishing relationships with Now-hubby and Frisbee was incredibly awkward for me.

I had a conversation a few days ago with one of my very good friends about whether or not we'd be cheaters if non-monogamy didn't exist. We both agreed, given the option, we'd probably have remained single and been slutty rather than serial monogamists or cheaters.

When I first met Now-hubby, that was the attitude that I was operating under - that I was going to pretty much live my life as a single slut. I had read The Ethical Slut, which had some advice about how to transition single sluthood into relationship sluthood, but nothing that really explained how I was supposed to overcome the incredible insecurity that a potential partner would be putting up with non-monogamy for my sake.  

There's inherent fear in establishing more "proper" relationships in a non-standard fashion, especially when you're starting out single. Having an established relationship and opening it up is a completely different experience.  If an established couple decides to date a third and things don't work out, the established couple is more likely to stay together while the third goes back off into singledom. There's that safety net already there within the couple: history, compatibility, and most important, the ability to close things back up again and re-enter exclusivity. It's sort of a two-against-one, no matter which participant winds up pulling the plug on things. This is different, again, than an established monogamous couple where one partner cheats and then leaves their partner for the person they cheated with. That's just a variation on serial monogamy. 

When I've had to end 1:1 relationships because the other person either didn't really understand what I meant by "poly" or wound up being squicked about it, there was the distinct realization that the relationship was ending because of something about me that I couldn't change. Not a disagreement about who's going to do the dishes or whether the two of us eventually wanted kids - those are typical relationship struggles that also exist with poly relationships. Breaking up because the relationship is openly oriented and one partner doesn't want that anymore hurts. Especially when you're the one who's insisting the relationship be open. Extra especially when there's time invested and significant feelings between the two people involved. It's time-honored self-doubt at it's best. Why can't that one aspect change so the two of you can set things up the way other people do?

It's my own mental insecurity that I'm still waiting for that shoe to drop with Now-hubby or Frisbee. For them to turn around and say, "you know what? This isn't really for me." Being all in the same place together somehow eases it for me - if I can evaluate it at all it's visual security transferring to mental security. Being able to see Frisbee and Now-hubby in the same physical space as me is very reassuring. Not in the way that I'm worried about what they're doing when we're apart. More in the way that I'm warmed by being able to be close and together with them more frequently now. 

Monday, August 25, 2014

Crazy Stuff on the Internet

This has come across my attention span in the past few days. It's worth sharing here.

Wanted Melody from Wanted Melody on Vimeo.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Luck Be a Lady

This past weekend I spent an incredible time getting sunburnt with Frisbee at an Ultimate tournament. This upcoming weekend I'll be nerding out with Now-hubby at Wizard Con in Chicago. My first con - be gentle.

In short, this is one of those sappy entries where I'm going to talk about how great it is to be in a relationship with these two incredible men.

I really do want to dedicate an entry to them, though, because I don't want it to seem as though I get to live the life I do just because I've made certain life choices regarding the types of sex and relationships I'd like to have. This blog would be very different if I was a kinky, poly-oriented, single lady.

Which is very weird for me, as I tend to play single. But I'd like to give mention to the two men who continue to consent to me playing as such. I'd also like to mention how incredibly amazing it is for the two of them to share not only living space but also a more intimate schedule with me.

We've now had three monthly meetings to go over our relationship agreement. And I've felt that each one has contributed something positive to the way that the three of us are living together. Each month I get to reflect on everything that has gone right with the three of us living together. I'm also continually surprised that the two of them are content with the way things are. I can't imagine that other men would be as accepting and accommodating as they have, and I need to give them props for that.

In short, all the sappy bullshit this blog can allow. I give it all to them.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Bad Behavior

Before I officially begin this entry, I would like to emphatically stress that I don't give two shits about Taylor Swift. This is not an entry about her. So, if anybody from the Taylor Swift fandom happens to find their way to this little blog, I humbly request that they take a fucking chill pill before continuing with this entry. I repeat: this is not an entry about Taylor Swift.

What this is an entry about is the video for her song, I Knew You Were Trouble. I'll also save everybody the trouble of having to watch the entire thing and let you know the only parts that concern this entry are from about the 3:45 mark to 5:45.

Well, there are two sort of brief character development moments before the relevant minutes I'm talking about. It's important, apparently, for you to also know the love interest in this music video is the type of guy who goes to concerts that have mosh pits. It's also important for you to know he's the type of guy who will get a tattoo that says "LOVE" on his chest because he's spent a lot of time in a grimy hotel room with Taylor Swift. Whether he's in love with Taylor Swift or with the grimy hotel room is sort of a toss-up.

In any case, from 3:45 to 5:45 is when you really learn why this guy is so much "trouble." Mosh pits and poorly thought-out tattoos are just part of his boyish charm. Two things that really start to make the relationship look like a bad idea: he likes to get in stupid bar fights and apparently the police are after him. Why I wanted to write about this video, though, is that the penultimate reason Taylor Swift decides the guy isn't worth being with anymore is because he kisses another girl at some Burning Man-esque festival.

It's as though all his other questionable life choices are worth being there for, but kissing somebody else is the worst choice he could make with his life and definitely worth breaking up over. That's a really troubling viewpoint. Suffer through violent, law-breaking behavior because it's still sort of hot to be with a bad boy.

But see him making out with somebody else and it is definitely over!

I'd also like to question whether or not the making out with somebody else actually happened. They were at something very similar to Burning Man, so it's possible Taylor Swift was just tripping balls and hallucinated the whole thing. Or maybe! Maybe Taylor Swift is just tripping the entire video and the boyfriend never really existed. I Knew You Were Trouble is actually a coded tribute to Fight Club.

I'm also sort of angry at the implication that the boyfriend's other really bad choices make him more likely to also be the kind of guy that cheats. Like maybe if Taylor Swift had instead met a nice boy in a button-down shirt who took her to the orchestra and only brought her to restaurants without pool tables in them would never have cheated on her.