Opening Up

The mouse and I have been having a lot of issues lately and it all centers around his "polyamory that isn't polyamory." Or at least that's what he calls it. I say it's not wanting to settle down... or not wanting to be stuck with one person... or maybe just it being completely natural to have sexual relations with people he cares about. Maybe it's part of his past showing itself now. I don't think he ever saw a professional psychiatrist for his issues. Maybe it's just him trying to reclaim his sexuality or express what he thinks his entails. I'm certainly not one to talk. I think the very first entry of this blog I wrote that I'd do very "filthy and kinky" things to some of my closest friends if they'd let me. I've had sexual trauma but I wouldn't say that's the reason. I just like sensation.

There have been a lot of issues and fights lately because he wants more than just a threesome on occasion. I wouldn't mind a threesome now and then... or even a foursome. I've operated mostly on the wavelength of "play together or not at all." It still makes me feel a bit sick to my stomach and it's possible that there's a part of me that's just "dealing" with it by gradually locking him out of my heart... by letting go and letting him do his thing as I start to go off and do my own. Serial monogamy doesn't suit me well even though it seems I do just that. Or maybe I've been expressing a sexless sort of poly all this time. I still talk and flirt with my ex in the form of loose talk. I've always talked sex. I live, eat, and breathe the stuff. Bad sex equals and unhappy me and I thrive on fantasy. I haven't been with anybody else but him, however. The last open relationship I had was at its tail end and was falling apart.
I don't want THIS relationship to fall apart. I'm trying to keep the lines of communication open even though he sometimes seems to take it so personally.
Mercury in retrograde. We're actually having clearer conversations.

I worry a little that we're falling apart and this will be the nail in the coffin. They say that jealousy comes from insecurity. I've had so much of that lately. I've had so much fear and worry and tinges of broken trust. I've felt betrayed because of some of his actions being taken thoughtlessly. But I'm not staying with him for sex. Far from it. The sex could very well be better elsewhere. It could be kinkier and wetter and overall better executed. There could be someone out there who can push all of my buttons in ways he's only succeeded to graze.

I still have buttons and limits that I'd like to push and explore. For him, it's mostly about being close to friends and doing the things that I don't care for very much (like rimming... though he does make delightful moans when I do.)

There's a brightness to his tone and words when I talk about the hypothetical me with other people. I don't think I'd be having sex with anybody else. True, I'm a bit for play and flirting... There's the gang bang fantasy that I probably wouldn't pursue because I'm a germaphobe and do not want to worry about what diseases other people might be carrying. (Let's not forget my gigantic trust issues.) For him to be outside terrifies me... but I trust he'd at least tell me first...
I trust that he'd keep it limited to a small circle. We did make some general rules/terms. I figured they were pretty clear. The basic was being safe and not being with anybody who wasn't tested... and condoms if. My trust issues have concerns on their levels of full disclosure. I'd still refrain from intercourse with others... I told him that I'd be up to using condoms at my discretion for my own piece of mind and general comfort. He agreed to thinking it reasonable to test every few months. I guess it's just up to picking some sort of schedule.

There's a brightness to his tone when I bring it up... a sort of "see, you can have fun too." But, I'm not going out looking for fun. Maybe it's just me trying to breathe. Maybe it's just trying to survive with my heart in tact...

That wouldn't be a very healthy way of coping... it wouldn't be a healthy way of keeping the relationship going.

He says simply that he's okay as long as I'm "safe". (though his safe is a bit more loose than mine... hence the divide and a bit of his sulking over having to use condoms if he does have sex with the "unapproved by girlfriend."... But he understands he says.) He says he's okay as long as I love him most. That's one of the ones you can't really dictate. You can't quantify love. Do I love anybody else more than him? Yes. Myself. I'm selfish and my happiness means a great deal to me. I do most things with that in mind.

It's all a new situation... I based my rules for him more on being fully informed of the who, and when before hand. I don't care so much in terms of the what as long as it's safe. I don't care as long as it's not someone he lives with. My rules are more things that foster dialogue and union than anything else.

I don't want to be left out.
It boils out to that.

Expanding the Toybox

I just might have a little bit of a toy fetish/collecting problem. I love trying new things. I like new textures. I LOVE ORGASMS! So, in line with that, I like trying new things. If I had more space, I’m sure I’d have quite the toybox. Maybe I’d even have some sort of toy room.

There’s a mental list of things I’d like to get one day. Included are a nice set of floggers and pumping gear. Some items on the Liberator line of furniture would be a delight in soft suede. I’d get a Sybian and maybe some power tools. Perhaps I’d have a glass display case or a case with glass doors well lighted to keep my various items in… or at least some glass and metal pieces.

I think on this list would also be some toys from vendors like Bad Dragon and Zetatoys. There are some interesting shapes in the animal kingdom that make my mouth water if only for wondering what the size, shape, and texture would bring. This is a realm of fantasy.
I am not a beastialist and would not have sex with a non human. That seriously crosses my ethical lines.
Werewolf and beastman fantasies don’t count… and they are just that – fantasies. I’d totally shag a werewolf.

Perhaps, I’d also throw some electrosex items into the mix with some harnesses and a healthy supply of “soft” bondage items. I don’t mind the tingle of a TENS unit but it can easily be too much for me to take. One slip and it changes from a pleasurable buzz to a bite that causes curses to spring forth as I look for the dial.

Pubes

I’m not exactly sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m a fan of having at least some of my pubic hair intact. I like there to be some hair on whomever it is that I’m fooling around with at the time as well. I don’t have a hair fetish (I think). I like the hair to be groomed over it being incredibly wild. At the same time, while I like the way my lips feel when completely hairless – it’s not a preferred state. No hair feels juvenile.

True, I think my lips also look amazing and puffy. I’d get to see the full size of my clit if the hair is gone. Any fabric against my body can give either an annoyance or a near instant thrill with every movement depending on what it’s made of. But I don’t like being bald. The hair grows back itchy. I get ingrowns and pimples running rampant all over my crotch. PEE GOES EVERYWHERE! (Usually any tuft on my labia wicks the hair away in a stream but without it it’s like a high pressure hose going off without a nozzle.) High pressure spray and splatter… not fun… It gets on my legs.

Sure, I could use an aid or a functional packer (though I don’t pack…) It’s money I don’t have. Sure I could just drink less water to pee less… but I’m trying to live healthier here.

The hair adds “fluff”, as one of the Vagina Monologues said. Add to this that sex is a little painful when the other person isn’t hairless or full of prickly stubble. Those aren’t fun.

There’s the fact that the mouse doesn’t particularly care for pubic hair either. The first time he saw me waxed, he said it was the sexiest thing he ever saw. Then he dove in. I don’t get very many oral delights when I’m not shaved and he seems to express some trepidation in the act. (“But I love oral”). If I’m hairless he’s like a pig in slop… with about that much attention to what he’s doing or technique.

Unexpected Revelations

It’s not that I don’t think people I know are kinky. It’s a bit of a surprise, however, to hear them talk about their kinks or find them on certain kinky websites. The very fact that I see them and all the things they’re into is like throwing a rift into reality. The result is a sort of mind bending akin to finding your parent’s sex toys.

It feels odd to find out that people you know are into the same kind of deviance as you are… however fun it is to indulge in. It’s weird and bizarre and strange… but it’s true as much as you are into those things and they might react in a similar way.

Finding out someone you know also wants to lactate one day without having any children…
That someone you know is secretly fantasizing about you dominating them…
That someone out there you know is into the kind of kinks that make your blood crawl and curdle… sometimes in the good way and others in a way that can arouse fight or flight.
There’s finding out you know swingers, spankers, and prolific suckers hiding behind masks of the “mundane”.

It’s strange to me but at the same time all too real.

And then comes the temptation to run with this new found knowledge and see where it takes you.

Maybe A Little Bit of A Mean Streak

I sat on the bus home tonight and a small smile crept across my face with the idea of ruining the mouse’s orgasm as a form of punishment. I’m sure it’s been done before. It’s possible that the use of a ruined orgasm has been utilized to put someone back in their “place”. However, I can’t help but think that it could backfire on me just as easily.

I thought of taping/typing his wrists to his shoulders… or maybe binding his arms near the elbow at a bend. He’d be able to move his arms up and down to get more comfortable but not be able to get himself off while I have my way with him and then ruin his orgasm. I’d tease him for a long time then leave him alone. Blue balling wouldn’t be the goal but more a gentle punishment. To give so much pleasure and then stop it suddenly at the peak… to make him ejaculate with an almost anguished dribble... Maybe it’s a bit mean of me but a smile curls onto my lips even now considering that.

Of course, that might be just a beginning…

I think I remember ruining an orgasm before for him though not on purpose. I was riding him. I remember the fishlike gasps he made while pleading for me to wait and slow down. Maybe he wanted to go longer. Maybe, I milked the cum out of him. The expression was priceless, however.

I want to see that face again.

Subtle Declarations of Pride

I like my jewelry very delicate and silver. I like hints of bright color in my eye makeup. I wear neutral colors.
A pride flag in its full saturated glory just would not go with my style. It just wouldn’t.

True, I personally identify myself as Queer but at the same time will tell people I’ve met that I’m Bisexual. My sense of interest in others in terms of sexual attraction is quite fluid. I don’t care if someone has a penis or a vagina as long as it’s not leaking pus or bleeding. So how do I reflect my colors… as it were…?

I love the pink/purple/blue of the bi-flag and have been trying to think of ways to work it into my everyday look. Earrings are hard to find or a bit clunky and loud if I do. The rainbow is everywhere but the Bi flag a bit more of a challenge. I still want it to be out there. I want to display without it being gaudy or clashing.

A possible solution has been found in sheer glitter nail polish. I have five fingers on each hand. Pink on the thumb, blue on the pinky, and somewhere in the middle depending on how I’m feeling that day. It’s fluid. It’s subtle. It could also be considered an advertisement of my particular mood if someone knows what to look for.

How would ANYBODY know what to look for?

On (Lacking) Happy Sex

Maybe it’s a little silly the way it hit me this afternoon on the way to work. I’ve said before that I’m severely lacking lately in the sex department and that one of my favorite things to do is have “happy sex”. (ok, maybe I haven’t said it outright before in this blog but that is the case personally.” Then the words flashed in my mind, “You can’t have happy sex if you’re not happy with yourself, your partner, or the sex.”

Pretty obvious, isn’t it?

I can have quite satisfying orgasms all on my own if I have enough time to relax and unwind. I had two this morning after about 45 minutes of play. Even now I’m feeling a bit horny but I feel a cringe at the thought of doing so with my boyfriend. Gee, I wonder why.

We had a bit of an argument last night after I admitted that while I still have some desire for him, I feel guarded around him as well (considering some of his reactions to what I want in the moment and some distance considering some of his behavior with others.) It’s a downward spiral, really. I try to protect my feelings with intimacy because he reacts badly to the things that really turn me on (or is for the most part disappointing with his performance.) He pulls away because I’m so “distant” while protecting myself and turns his attention elsewhere. I close up more because he’s looking elsewhere. It’s a bit unnatural to expect someone to open up completely when the trust is damaged and the feeling of safety is gone.

The respect is possibly melting away as well. I have a lean towards the new age and metaphysical. If I share some ideas with him or readings he complains instead of seeing what it is he can draw from it. He complains that doing more than what feels like a cursory touch to see if the pool is warm is “too much work.” Some of his talk at times drips with the tone of anything more than his pleasure being too much work. His actions in the bedroom do the same. He doesn’t listen or act on the answer when he asks “What can I do?” He takes offense to me taking care of things myself with toys or the idea of bringing them into the bedroom. It doesn’t have to be kinky but it would help if it was enjoyable and satisfying. It would help if it didn’t feel like acting or a chore.

It would help if it didn’t matter when I said I didn’t feel like it… if it wasn’t taken as an attack on his masculinity or his sexual prowess. The pouting kills me. It’s poisonous.

I found an article not long ago and the words ring so true in my ears it almost hurts.

The LEAST interesting thing in the world to [some people] is a [significant other] who doesn't understand how to be a lover. A [person] mostly says "No" to a [S/O] who isn't a lover. Conversely, a [person] says "Yes"...A LOT...to a [S/O] who IS a lover. In fact, a [partner] will frequently ask [zher mate] for sex IF [they’re] a lover.
- Calle Zorro

(Yes, I make things awkward with blockquotes and trying to make things gender neutral.) Then I think he’s made himself less and less of a lover to me through his actions. He’s still a friend. He’s still someone I care about in my mixture of love/hatebutreallylove. But, is he still my lover?

It isn’t that I’ve grown bored with what people call “vanilla sex”. I’ve just grown tired of HIS particular form of unsatisfying “vanilla”. Done right, bare bones no frills sex is great. I’m sure nobody would argue with that.