My Whole Sex Life

Married sex gets a bad rap. It’s common knowledge that the ecstatic new relationship energy fades over time, unresolved resentments build up, excitement over sharing new sexual fantasies fades. Married people eventually lead dull boring sex lives, right? No, it doesn’t have to be that way. Long term committed couples can have sex that is progressively more intimate and more exciting.

The catch is that it takes some work. It means owning your emotional baggage and being willing to help your partner through their stuff too. It becomes necessary to completely resolve every disagreement to the point of loving him or her to bits rather than shoving your feelings into the dark recesses of the collective basement of the relationship. At least that’s how it is for Harold and me.

We’ve been having sex with each other for over five years and it just keeps getting better. We fight a fair amount, but it’s mostly productive – meaning that we are able to reach a mutual resolution without any lingering resentments. We are also under a huge amount of stress, and yet our connection to each other continues to grow stronger. I can always tell the health of our relationship by the kind of sex that we have together.

Our last date is a good example. I had a crappy morning, but was in a decent place, but Harold was not. He was deeply sad, barely functional. I did my best to hold and comfort him. We talked a lot. Slowly we began to make love from that deep place Harold was in. We did our standard things, the sexual practices that we know we like and will be effective, without taking any risks or pushing any boundaries. Comfort sex. We know each other better than we know ourselves in these ways and while not exciting, it is nice and good to come together and get off. I am very thankful for this kind of sex, but I want a relationship where we sometimes go further.

Afterward, I think we both felt somewhat better and closer to each other. It gave me a chance to meditate and work through some deep issues that have been plaguing me. Harold was happy to hold the space for me and his presence gave me the safety I needed. My work immediately lightened the mood for us both. We were able to return to the family feeling renewed and more empowered.

We got to spend time with the children and our other partners, making dinner and relaxing, before settling into bed with a movie. Our favorite movies are foreign sex films and this was no exception. We found Chroniques sexuelles d’une famille d’aujourd’hui (Sexual Chronicles of a French Family) on Netflix. I think it’s maybe the best movie about sex I’ve ever seen. It shows how three generations of the same family handle their sexuality. The relationships are realistic and the characters are very sympathetic. The sex is explicit without showing much in the way of genitals, but it doesn’t pull any punches, this is very real. We thought that it was interesting, sweet, sexy, and inspiring.

We were so inspired, we started to make love again. We don’t often have sex more than once a day, but we were full of lust. Sexy movies can do that. I could feel the warmth flow from my cunt, up my chest, and spread. When I kissed Harold I felt like golden light was passing between us through our open mouths. My skin was alive to his touch. We were completely attuned to the energy we grew between us. Suddenly we were easily meeting sexual needs that we have spent months discussing but haven’t yet implemented in our sex life. It was fucking HOT.

This amazingness is made possible by the nature of our relationship. Because we have kept clear of resentments and had ongoing conversations about the things we want, we could just use the energy of a great sexy movie to launch into mind-blowing sex. It takes some practice to be able to follow the energy of the moment to fulfilling each other’s desires. I like to control every situation, but learning how to live in the moment has been incredibly rewarding.

Maybe someday we will lose this feeling of excitement, this thrill when we look at each other, this rush of lust when we are in each other’s arms. Maybe we will get to a point where we have only efficient, comforting sex with each other, but I doubt it. We value the sex and connection that we have together too much to screw it up. For us, this is what it means to be profoundly in love.

Anyone who thinks that being polyamorous means not feeling jealousy, is sadly mistaken. I don’t often feel jealous, but it does come up – and often not in the ways that I expect. I want my partners to be happy and fulfilled. I get off on them getting off even when it isn’t with me and even if they are doing things that I wouldn’t be into. But I do occasionally get jealous.

Harold and I did get a chance to play with Blyss and Holt. It was fantastic. I got to see a side of Blyss that I haven’t seen before, her very excellent Toppy side, as she took fantastic care of a totally adorable Holt. I got to admire how beautiful Holt is and run my fingers over his gorgeous skin. We got to explore CBT technique. I love teaching moments. Harold helped me come while I had a person on each nipple. Totally ecstatic. We spent hours in a casual sexual environment.

I felt very good about the whole thing – close to everyone, sexy, comfortable, happy. It wasn’t until I looked at the photos that I felt jealous. No, thinking back, I believe I felt jealous just after, but it manifested as a bout of extreme insecurity about being parted from Harold. See, Harold, to his dismay, is not very attracted to men. He would like to be more physically attracted to men. He’s had a bit of a crush on Holt since Blyss showed us pictures. I don’t mind that at all. I think it’s sweet.

I want Harold to explore every bit of his sexuality. Fuck every mountain, leave no stone unfucked, and all that. We’re good for each other like that. I’ve done my best to help Harold explore gender in the context of our sex play. I’m a very good man to his woman. It works. I was honored to help hold the space for him to explore with Holt. I know that the safety of having me there, the grounding of our relationship, made it possible for Harold to be comfortable making love with Holt.

At the time, I was so caught up in the energy that all I felt was the glory of the moment. Later I looked at the pictures. The lens didn’t capture how sweet it was for me to watch Harold. Nearly every shot has Harold looking at Holt with longing. No, that’s not true. That’s the jealousy talking.

My jealousy is two-fold. First, I am jealous because I don’t have a cock and balls and I never will. Harold wants something sexually that I can not provide. Realistically, I don’t expect to be everything for him, but emotionally I feel sad that there are places I cannot meet him. Second, I feel jealous because what I see in the photos is Harold pursuing Holt. Again, logically I know that Harold pursued me, but my lizard brain says that I had to stalk him.

Jealousy often comes up around something that I perceive as a lack, either a lack I can’t meet for my partner that someone else can, or an emotional lack in myself that I believe can’t be met. Paying attention to these feelings can be really helpful in working out areas that might otherwise become grounds for resentment in the relationship.

Talking to Harold about my jealousy is incredibly helpful. He doesn’t judge me for my emotions, but helps me see them for what they are. He’s very responsive which makes me feel loved and supported. It’s important too, because I’m realizing how I felt after the fact, to know that my feelings of jealousy don’t have anything to do with Blyss or Holt, or even Harold. These feelings are natural and normal. Even for poly folk.

Aftercare doesn’t always get the attention it deserves. This week’s Sinful Sunday image is of me after a fairly intense power exchange/bondage/spanking/CBT/anal play scene, followed by fucking. When we were done basking in the glow, I went outside to get some fresh air and eat an apple. Harold snapped this candid shot of me getting the aftercare I needed. I like it because It’s just me. I’m not trying to look glamorous or be anything else. Strangely enough, it turns out that being me looks pretty sexy!

To see what other people are doing for Sinful Sunday this week, click below!

Photo by David Steinberg

Occasionally I make mistakes. This time I even kind of knew that I was making mistakes. I’m choosing to call it a learning experience, but I am suffering a bit for this knowledge. I feel foolish, but I guess I might as well share what happened just in case I can save someone else from the same mistakes. Like so many interesting stories, it started with anal sex…

A few days ago, Harold and I had a date. We had been without a regular date for several weeks, so we were eager to be as deeply inside each other as possible. We did a lot of talking, catching up and syncing our energies. There was a fair amount of sensual play – snuggling, kissing, caressing, then licking, sucking, and fingering. But we both wanted anal play.

Please keep in mind that this was only our 3rd or 4th time having anal sex where I would be receiving. I tried to figure out how we could fuck each other in the ass at the same time. I had a few ideas, but we couldn’t do what we really wanted. We settled for Harold being penetrated with a toy and then fucking me. Lots of lube and anal play ensued. Then we got to the point where his penis was about to enter my back door.

Photo by David Steinberg

We were both very turned on by this time, so I think our judgement was impaired. I did suggest that he wear a condom so we could just strip it off and not worry about clean up, since we were not anywhere near running water. He insisted that he was going to fill my ass with cum. (And here I made my first mistake!) I was so tickled by this idea that I believed him and didn’t insist on the condom.

He slowly entered me and it felt incredible. Before long he was pounding me hard. We fucked for maybe five minutes, and while it was beautiful and pleasurable, neither of us was coming this way. I added clitoral stimulation with a vibrator and came like crazy, but Harold still wasn’t close to an orgasm. So we decided we wanted to switch to penis-in-vagina sex.

I hope you can see where this is going…

Harold pulled out. There was no mess. But I wasn’t going to just let that cock go from my ass to my pussy. Not happening. I needed to clean him off somehow (and remember that we are without indoor plumbing) so I grabbed the first thing I could think of (this would be my second mistake) – some antimicrobial gel. I slathered gel all over Harold’s cock, making sure that it wasn’t irritating his skin and joking about what a bad lube it would make.

Now, I am a very sensitive girl. I can’t use most lubricants. I’ve tried a bunch and then a bunch more. Most lubes are very irritating to my vagina and many of them have a tendency to give me yeast infections. I don’t know what I was thinking when I put that gel on Harold’s penis, other than I desperately wanted to fuck him and I didn’t want to get a bladder or kidney infection by spreading fecal bacteria anywhere near my urethra. Hand sanitizer kills 99.99% of the most common germs that make you sick, right?

I did wait as long as I could for the alcohol to evaporate – perhaps a whole minute before I slid onto his cock. Then we fucked like crazy until we both came. Everything seemed good and wonderful. Until a day or two later.

Photo by David Steinberg

I couldn’t figure out why I had such a bad yeast infection. Normally, as soon as I have any sign of an infection, I use boric acid capsules for a few days and all is right with my body. This time, it’s not helping at all. I start trying every trick I know of and a few I’ve never tried before to get my body back in balance. Finally, today it dawns on me – the hand sanitizer killed everything in my cunt, all of the microbial organisms, even the good bacteria that is supposed to be there. And then we filled my vagina with semen and all of the sugars it’s made up of.

Perfect. What was I thinking? Ah, I wasn’t thinking, but I am now. Harold and I have talked it through and we have a plan for the next time we want to have anal sex. We will use a condom and gloves for any anal penetration. And never, will I ever, get antimicrobial gel anywhere near my pussy. Call it learning the hard way.

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This week the whole family went camping – all four parents and the four children still at home, at the ocean for five days and four nights. It was fabulous. Despite requiring amazing feats of planning and packing, I think our trip was highly successful. We all worked together to make sure that everyone’s needs got met. I believe that this is one of the main advantages to polyamory – sharing goals and responsibilities so that everyone can have more fun.

We definitely focused on the children’s experience, but we also took care of ourselves. One of our priorities for our vacation was to make sure that each couple in our family had a few hours to themselves to do what they wanted. I think it’s important for the grown ups to have adult time alone together to keep relationships strong. With four of us, it meant that no one individual was ever saddled with all of the children by themselves. My perception is that this arrangement built trust and relationships all the way around.

For my “dates” I was interested in making love. Joel and I were sleeping in the tent that we had fucked like crazy in when we were first together, causing an international scandal. I wanted to make sure that the magic was still there inside those green nylon walls. Harold and Melanie took the children hiking so we could have the campsite to ourselves.

The moment they were gone, I was naked and digging out the only sex toy I brought with me – my vibrator. Joel also removed his clothing, watching me get myself off. He had been reading Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Going Down, Oral Sex Stories so he was eager to bury his face between my thighs, bringing me to orgasm again with his tongue and mouth. There is a lot to be said for creative inspiration!

He was good and hard by then, so I guided him in, my feet resting against his shoulders. It felt amazingly intense to have his cock so deep inside me. He rocked against me while the walls of the tent shuddered in the ocean wind. It was so good, his flesh on mine, surrounded by all of the camping smells, snuggled down on the sleeping bags. When Joel asked if he should come, I was ready.

Afterward, we took a long walk on the beach. We were more relaxed than we normally can manage, talking about whatever came to mind and enjoying the sand and sun. I felt closer to Joel than I have in a long time. It was very sweet and lovely.

The following day I spent time alone with Harold. He had some local sights to show me so we drove around for a while. He took me to the best general store ever, which just proves that he knows how to show a grrrl a good time. We talked a lot, and finally ended up parked on the beach with our picnic lunch. There were people in the distance and the occasional car drove by, but it felt as though we had the beach to ourselves. Seagulls surrounded us.

After eating lunch, I started feeling Harold up. We were both pretty hot for each other. He took his pants off altogether so I could play with his cock. There’s something particularly sexy about a hand job or blow job when he’s in the driver’s seat. Maybe it’s that I can beat his cock against the steering wheel.

I was wearing a dress because I had hoped that we would find a way to fuck, so I just slid off my panties, hiked up my skirt, and climbed into the backseat. Harold came around the vehicle and managed to find a position where he could go down on me. I did my best to keep my eyes open to look for anyone passing by.

I wanted Harold to put his fingers inside me, but his hands were not very clean and he’d sliced his finger open the night before shucking oysters. Luckily, I carry black latex-free gloves in my purse for just such a possibility! Before long, I was desperate for Harold to fuck me. He knelt in front of me and I braced my feet on the ceiling.

There we were fucking in the backseat of the car, right in plain view of anyone who might happen by. And a car did come toward us. I pointed it out to Harold and he made a point of coming before it did. We are more than a little exhibitionist. We laughed and held each other, his jism dripping out of my cunt onto the leather seat. We had managed to use our risk taking to renew our close bond.

After, we walked down to the waves and both of us peed in the sand. Peeing in nature always makes me feel both wicked and empowered. We finished our date by feeding the gulls and then going for coffee. We returned to camp feeling closer to each other, our partners, and the children.

I’m pleased that I managed to have good sex with both of my partners while we were camping. Sometimes it’s difficult for sex outside of the norm to be a tool for intimacy, but I think that in both cases the novelty of the experience, combined with a level of relaxation, worked for us. We did a bunch of fabulously fun things with the children – sandcastles, fort building, lighthouse climbing, dodging waves, kite flying, go-karts, going to the movies, hiking, roasting marshmallows, and telling stories. Giving the adults a chance to do what they want is important too, and it makes everything else more fun. This is poly family camping.

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My husband, Joel,  just left the house for a first date with a woman he’s been talking to online for about a month. He’s got the normal mix of excitement and anxiety that goes with a first date. He groomed himself carefully. Checked and double checked and triple checked the driving directions. After careful consideration he hand crafted a gift for his date – a necklace with a pendant of her role playing game character’s religious symbol. It’s incredibly geeky, yet very personal. I hope she likes it.

I have a good feeling about this. From what Joel says, she seems very clean with her emotions. She seems to know herself pretty well. I know they have had lots of good email interaction. They may not have that spark of connection, but we’ll have a better idea after tonight. For right now, I am happy seeing Joel happy. There is so much intense, life-affirming energy around a relationship that is just starting. I am reaping the benefits of being within basking range.

This is what compersion is. Compersion is the term that non-monogamous people use to describe that feeling of deriving pleasure from your partner’s happiness with another person. Some people say that it’s the opposite of jealousy, but I know that both can exist at the same time.

I’m not all joy. There is a small voice inside me that I have to acknowledge. It’s the voice that says that he might fall in love with someone else and leave me. He’s dated other people before and that hasn’t happened yet, but I still worry. Change can be scary. I have to have faith in Joel. I believe in our relationship because we’ve made it through a lot together and it hasn’t broken us. I know deep down that I am important to Joel. As long as I feel secure in myself, I think it will be okay.

And he hasn’t forgotten me just because he’s going out. He made me tomatillo soup before he left. We talked through everything a few times before he left. I don’t know if he’ll be back before morning. I suspect he will, but I want to give him the opportunity to follow the date to it’s natural conclusion. He’s done the same for me countless times. I hope that he gets laid, if that feels like the right thing.

We’ve been a bit more sexual together lately and I believe that Joel’s interactions and flirting with another woman are responsible. It’s woken him up, thinking that someone else might find him attractive and interesting. He doesn’t always have the best social skills so I sometimes feel protective. I want other people to be able to see the wonderful man that I know.

But for now I need to stop worrying. Joel is on his way. I love him. I’m happy for him and excited because he is. I can’t wait to hear about his adventures when he returns home, whenever that is. I’m going to play with the children and read a good book. My partner is on a first date and I am full of compersion.

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The stress has been getting to us. Between working hard all of the time, the children, managing a home and multiple relationships, working through my childhood abuse scars, and money being tight, my relationship with Harold has been very strained lately. Not that it’s been bad, just harder for us to find the powerful connection that we share. So I made an executive decision to get away for a weekend and our spouses helped to make it happen.

I’m so glad that we did! We took a ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island and stayed in a little cabin there. I adore the ferry – it feels like magic. Being on a boat automatically shifts the energy and gives the impression of being on a journey. I feel the same way about airplanes and trains. I like to travel; it’s exciting. It also turns me on. I always want to find some way of fucking, but I’ve only managed to have sex on a ferry boat once before, sadly not on this trip.

After the refreshing ferry ride, we walked around in downtown Winslow and Poulsbo. It felt good to spend unstructured time together. We’re always so goal oriented and busy. Here we just wandered and talked. I felt at ease for the first time in a long while. The sun was shining and all was right with the world. Part of having a family and being polyamorous is that I am always thinking about other people’s needs. It’s very nice to have no thoughts beyond the moment.

We did manage to have some sex. Again, spontaneity is amazing – the ability to just be sexual whenever the mood strikes is a gift. In fact, Harold came three times over the weekend! This is significant for me because over the past several month erections have been scarce. I am relieved to know that if we get into a more relaxed state, everything still flows. Our sexual connection is just as hot as it always has been. When we have the time and space, we are as horny as teenagers and ready to jump each other.

We did other things too. We spent a lot of time in the hot tub. We worked. We spent a delightful evening catching up with some old friends of mine. We cooked together. We walked on the beach and picked up shells. We talked easily and openly about all kinds of things. We watched movies and cuddled. It was a good time.

As with most vacations, it didn’t feel like enough time – we had just begun to unwind. Yet I was ready to face the world again. I felt rested and focused. This mini-vacation proved that our love is still strong. What more do I need?

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I wanted something different for our date this week, someplace to get away to. Harold and I have been going through a spate of arguments lately – largely because I’m working through more big emotional things and I’ve been bitchy. It’s been rocky. So I wanted to relax and reconnect with each other in a space that we haven’t been to. I took him to the hourly hot tub place. I’ve been fantasizing about making love there ever since Joel and I went.

It’s a bit of a drive, about 45 minutes, but that’s okay because it gave us a chance to talk. The first hour of our dates are always spent talking anyway. We need the time to get caught up after being apart for a few days. It helps to sync up our energy – make sure that there isn’t anything lurking in our psyches that needs to be addressed. I require a mental health check in order to open up and be truly intimate with my partner. Wild sex requires trust. Talking helps.

The hot tub place is fairly unassuming when you enter, nice, but kind of comfortable. The service was fantastic and the guy at the desk didn’t blink an eye at our camera gear. We got situated in our room – shower, sauna, tub, narrow bed, stereo system. Perfect for boinking. I could just feel my tension melting.

I rinsed off in the shower, the industrial spray hitting my nipples like needles. I sat at the edge of the tub and dipped my toes in. I sat at the edge and ran my vibrator lightly over my clit, through my labia. After a while I eased into the water and luxuriated in the warmth, feeling free and weightless. Harold let me have my space while I eased into my first orgasm, then he joined me in the tub.

We gravitated toward each other, half floating, able to twine around each other in new ways. There is so much comfort in being held skin-to-skin. I love him so much but things have been difficult for the last bit. I’m angry, but not at him. I know that I have been pushing him away, even while I want him to stay close. I needed that time with him in the hot tub. Time to just be together peacefully.

Peaceful quickly became sexual for us. Despite the challenges of fucking under water, he slid into me. We experienced the exquisite joy of movements being simultaneously slowed and amplified by the water. His thrusts were muted, but the motion caused ripples against my flesh. It created new possibilities as we anchored ourselves with our hands and floated. I could have stayed there forever, but natural lubrication doesn’t hold up under water and the silicone lube was across the room.

We took turns going down on each other. I really like oral sex. I especially liked being in the water with Harold’s cock at eye level as he sat on the edge of the tub. It felt both sexy and relaxing. For me it had an edge of power play as well, I think because he was above me, yet sucking cock makes me feel powerful.

We took a break to rehydrate and have a snack. We sat in the sauna for a while, sweat pouring down our faces and bodies. We went out to the bed. I poured lube in my hands and started on Harold’s cock, lavishing lots of stroking and repetitive motion, really getting into the feel of it. Hand jobs can be so meditative. Then I laid him down and rode him til I came.

I went back for a few last minutes in the hot tub before showering off, all of my limbs feeling loose and my heart bursting with love. The hot tub was continuously filling up and spilling over, like my emotions have been lately. It occurred to me that maybe it was for the same reasons – basic hygiene. Keeping everything flowing makes sure that the system stays clean.

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I had my whole hand inside of her body. I keep thinking that. Last night I worked my whole hand into her cunt. It was so amazing. Fisting is incredible. I can’t get over how close I feel to her, even now. She’s so beautiful. I’m so lucky. I had my whole hand inside her.

She showed up last night after the children were asleep, bearing lambic and dark chocolate. I told her that I felt unworthy of her affection, having only Folgers and cheap sulfite-free wine to offer such a goddess. She kissed my doubts away. We curled up on the bed, talking and stroking exposed bits of flesh.

I love her eyes. And her wicked smile. She has many different smiles that say a multitude of things, but I especially like the one that lets me know that she has done something very clever and deliciously bad. Usually to my benefit. Then there’s her hands, her fingers lacing in and out of mine while we talk.

We caught up on the last couple of weeks and discussed our other relationships. It’s nice to share with each other about all of the love we have in our lives. We talked about sex. Then I pin her to the bed and ask what she can’t live without in sex. I imagine the things she might detail, perhaps oral sex or orgasms or pain, but I’m surprised when she answers: connection. OMG, I’m in love. Of course connection is why I have sex. I want to know someone through sex. I’m so in love.

We’re still new to each other. We are learning each other’s bodies and preferences. I wanted to go down on her in a major way, but I was nervous. I haven’t actually had a lot of practice at cunnilingus, especially recently. I got all shy and awkward telling her what I wanted, yet warning her that I’m fairly inexperienced. She looked baffled for a moment, as though unsure how to respond before reassuring me that that she wouldn’t judge me too harshly. It made me laugh.

Determined to give it a good go, I worked my way down her body, kissing, sucking, and biting. Her cunt is gorgeous. She has 3 rings through one side of her labia. It’s just perfectly right. I nuzzled around in her pubic hair, taking in her earthy scent. I thought about what I like in oral sex and tried to do the same on her. I took my time and explored. It turned me on. As things heated up, I found myself with my whole face buried in her cunt, licking with wild abandon, following her rhythms. After she came, I kissed her, everything a juicy mess.

Then I wanted to be inside her. The vagina is such a mysterious and amazing place. She is so hot. I slipped a couple of fingers in and worked up to my whole hand with lots of lube and erotic play. I found myself glad that I had trimmed and filed my nails and worried that it hadn’t been enough. Her body writhing and contracting around my hand filled me with intense awe. I was so grateful to her for allowing me in, for sharing herself with me. I wanted to fill her and surround her and melt through her.

I thought that she should go to sleep then, but that wicked grin showed up. My turn. She explored my cunt, letting me know that she thought I was beautiful. What she thinks matters a lot to me because of my abuse history and having given birth 5 times. I am not always comfortable with my body. I was absurdly touched by her gaze and her compliments. Then she did wicked things with her mouth.

I’m not exactly sure what she did. Her mouth latched on to my clit and she rode my bucking pelvis until I came, hard and fast. My new favorite thing is her eyes looking at me while the rest of her face is obscured by my pubic hair. Have I mentioned that I’m in love? Because as soon as I’d come, she rode the waves of that orgasm straight into the next. Then I held my beautiful girl in my arms and she looked very smug. Deservedly so.

There’s a certain satisfaction to snuggling down in bed, with the smell of sex everywhere and a naked woman pressed against me. I felt at peace in the darkness for the first time in a while. This morning we woke early so she could go to work. I allowed myself the luxury of falling back to sleep, smelling her scent on the sheets. I’ve got it bad.

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I consider myself pansexual and genderqueer, but over the past few years I’ve presented more like a straight woman. I have two male partners and a passel of kids. Sure, I have a crew cut, but I can be pretty femme. I’m polyamorous, but I haven’t really dated at all in the past 4 years. I was busy helping to forge our family. Then I’ve been doing all of my intense emotional work. And WholeSexLife takes up a lot of my time. But I’ve had a few people on my radar, just waiting for the right moment.

Blyss is a good friend who I’ve been flirting heavily with for a couple of years. We’ve had a chance to get to know each other and build some basic trust, with some sexual teasing mixed in for interest. When she moved out of state recently I figured that I’d missed my chance. But then she wrote me a letter and kept sending me messages online. I was touched – and interested. I saw Blyss around Christmas time and invited her to have sex with Harold and I and to take pictures for the website. She was totally interested, but then had to cancel.

I saw her last week and all of my boi stuff kicked into high gear. In a fit of bravado and sexual interest, I asked Blyss to come and spend the night with me. I even asked in front of one of her other partners and one of mine. I didn’t even think about it – I wanted her.

Later, I freaked out a bit – What was I thinking? (That I wanted to spend time with her.) I don’t know how to make love to a woman! (Not true. I’ve done it before.) What if she canceled again? (Always possible, but not the end of the world.) I spent all week thinking about the upcoming date. I went to trim my nails to lesbian standards and couldn’t find any clippers. I ran out and purchased 3 sets of clippers. I cleaned my bedroom. I bought sexy new panties. I put clean sheets on the bed. I arranged roses and candles. I went through my sex toys trying to think of using them on a female. In short, I was anxious and obsessive. Thankfully, Harold didn’t mind that I talked a lot about Blyss.

Just before Blyss was supposed to arrive I gave up. I decided I couldn’t do it. Then she came through the door and everything was okay. She has such a beautiful way of making everything good. It helped soothe much of my awkwardness. We did normal homey things like eating dinner and reading a bedtime story to the kids.

Then we talked and talk and talked. Blyss is brilliant and sensitive. We giggled. And the boi kicked in again. I wanted to make love to this woman. Enough talking, I pounced. We rolled around, kissing, exploring each other with mouths and hands. She left hickeys on my neck. She has amazing breasts. I loved doing things to her nipples that make her squirm and squeal. I was reminded of how much I adore cunts. She likes to be stretched, so I worked up to four fingers, curling and pressing. I added clit rubbing and nipple stim until she came. SO amazing!

Strangely, sex with a woman really isn’t any different than sex with a man. People are people. It has me thinking about how passive I have traditionally been in my relationships – I have let men take the lead and then decided whether or not to follow. It is a cultural gender paradigm that I was following without thought. With women, I have often felt awkward, waiting to see who would make a move. I’m proud to say that this time, I made a move.

After that, I had to fuck her! I found my two-way and buried my cock in her cunt. The brilliant thing about the two-way is that I get both g-spot and clitoral stimulation with it. I actually orgasmed fucking her, only MY cock stayed hard. I felt like such a boi, needing to bone the beautiful girl. The energy was fantastic.

Sadly, at that point I was getting really tired. Probably all of the oxytocin being released into my system from the orgasms. I had to ask Blyss if she would be offended if we went to sleep. We cuddled up. I woke much the same way in the morning. I worked from bed, holding her hand, and watching her sleep, marveling at my good fortune to have such an amazing person in my bed.

When she woke, we made breakfast for the children. We sat and talked. She left for work. It all felt so smooth and natural. Seamless in a way that I always long for. It was my girlfriend experience. It’s early yet, but I can see possibilities in this relationship. I’ve invited Blyss back again.

Other posts that might interest you:

• Book tour: Say Please, edited by Sinclair Sexsmith
• I kissed a girl
• Blood, Sweat, and Queers
• Gender fluidity