Putting it into practice

Oh what a night. I went to a women's dance with the Bird and some friends. It is a small town so it was like the night of a thousand exes in there. My first girl was there plus a couple of missed connections and in that environment it was easy to grab the bird and make her mine, if only to make myself feel better, selfish right? But then I was working the door and I noticed these women working her, one of them was even one of my own missed connections, and she knew I was watching. She knows how I feel, I've shared with her my thoughts on the matters of monogamy, honesty, communication, and how if everyone is being honest then it is okay to explore possibilities. And explore she did. I looked over and saw S. with her hand on the Bird's ass and it made me hot. She knew I was watching, hell, it seemed like everyone in the room knew what was happening, and I saw her hoping my response would be a little different. Oh yes, she wants to explore and revel in the attention, but at the same time, I was her first and there is a part of her that wants me to say "no, stop, I don't like this!" But you see, I do like it. I am and always have been more voyeur than exhibitionist. It makes me wet to see her with that smile on her face, laughing, a hand on her ass and know that S. is whispering in her ear, "let me take you home tonight." I want it. I want to be 23 and the center of all attention with my whole life, my whole night, ahead of me. I want to go home with S. and see what she can teach me. I can tell by looking at her that she has moves. After all the electricity in me the other day, all due I believe to boys, I am surprised to respond that way. I was afraid for a minute there that maybe I didn't really like girls and then there they are, all these women I have loved and lusted after and would like to lust after, and yes, yes I am still pansexual. I prefer that much better than Bi.
So what happened? Oh the Bird came to, embarrassed, with her options. D. and S. both wanted to continue the evening with her but she had come with me, her car was at my house, her toothbrush as well. I encouraged her to be honest with both of them and she said she was, good girl, and then I asked what she wanted to do. Once we got past the part where she feels guilty because she came with me and what if I don't really mean what I say and maybe I'll hate her tomorrow for leaving with someone else (dyke drama!), she admitted she wanted to go with S. and I applauded her. It seemed by this time everyone in the room really was watching, S's friends, D's friends, my friends, all the women hanging out at the front desk where I was working, they all wanted to see. Would I crack? Would I really let her go with someone else? They all had their opinions and I can safely say I wanted her to go.
I want her to be with someone else. Maybe if she gets some practice with other people then we could have a better chance down the road. I understand that feeling though, wanting to go and explore and feeling obligated to stay because if I do then you will see how much I love you, right? But I have learned those lessons, that those old models don't work anymore and that if she lets herself stand in her own truth rather than what she thinks I need or want from her she can be free. Me, I was just easy because I had no voice for my truth. I don't know that I even knew what my truth was.
This is my truth from last night. S. came and spoke to me, where they were going, what they would do, she would be safe. I was impressed with her integrity although I did feel like the Bird's father for a minute. Then I hugged my friends and said good night and I turned and walked away. I was okay in that moment. I had put into practice what I thought I believed and I was okay. Still am. Things did not go as planned for the Bird but not because of me. And I am free.

sizzling with electricity

it's a beautiful thing, only two people in my life know i'm here and one is an equal in this journey and the other is one of my old lovers and he will probably never see this so it is very freeing to be able to say whatever i want without worrying about hurting anyone's feelings. after blogging this morning about the Artist and the girls, it seems i have been thinking about sex and intimacy all day. one of my recovery friends, we'll call him the Masseur (i have a feeling he'll show up again later) asked at a meeting how i was doing and i shared with him about feeling full of electricity. he and i are similar in this way i think. from what i know he is not a "vanilla" kind of guy, he just radiates that energy and maybe i only see it because i am the same.
i recently ended the relationship with my very young girlfriend (we'll call her the Bird because she is starting to sprout her wings so she can finally fly) because she couldn't even manage to work her way to vanilla, let alone some of my proclivities. i am the first relationship she has had with a woman and on top of that she had no vocabulary for sex or her desires. i thought she would be how i was with my first girl, anxious to learn the how's and the why's, but the Bird is limited by old beliefs and ideas no matter how much she wants to break free. i thought i could be content to watch her grow, to be a part of her process, that that desire to experience a woman would eventually catch up and when it did, watch out. but sadly i learned of my own impatience. night after night laying beside this beautiful young woman i wanted to take her, posess her in the most intimate ways, and she wasn't there yet. i stopped trying because it was hard to get worked up and be left hanging. i discovered i am incapable of being all top.
this is the confession: i have invited her over to stay the night. why is that a confession? because my motives are not pure. after sizzling all day with sexual energy and electricity sitting on the surface of my skin i want release. i want to fuck and to be fucked. i know it will not happen that way but maybe it will keep me from calling someone else. i am tempted to call the Masseur and say this is what i need, can you help me? i know him well enough to know he would consider it and we could both get our needs met and it would probably be really hot and freaky but the venue that houses our relationship is not an appropriate place to play that out.
so she is at the door. we will have to see where this goes. above all i have to be honest about my motives.

how he seduced me

So I said there was a story of how he seduced me and here it is. I was bartending at a tavern close to campus in the University town where I live and he came in, the Artist, on a Saturday afternoon in August. He was new in town and it was a quiet shift so talked more than I do with most people. There was a party that day, a reception for one of the other bartenders who had gotten married that day and I invited the Artist to come along. I even told him up front "this is not my way of hitting on you" as we walked there. He was young which I like although I had no idea at the time just how young he was but I had a girl, a woman, that I was way into then and he didn’t even register in my mind like that.
He kept coming in from time to time and one day we went out after my shift to a beer tasting with some of my friends. I’m very social and often the ringleader, the one that gets random people together, I like that. So the friends ditch us for another bar and I offer to drive him home. He invited me in but I didn’t go, I wasn’t sure what that meant. My college years were over 15 years ago and things had changed so I was unsure if "do you want to come in?" still means what it used to and I had things to do. Later one of my friends laughed at me and said that never changes. Another day, another opportunity but this time I went in. By this time I knew that he was 15 years younger than my 38 and I was oddly nervous. The Artist, he’s not a talker so I made up for it, terrified he would kiss me and terrified that he wouldn’t. He put books in my hands, art books, graffiti books, and he began to seduce my mind. I left that night out of fear and feeling sixteen again.
Another day, another opportunity. More art books to occupy me, I’m sure he could see right through me. This time he stopped my nervous chatter when he pulled me into his lap and kissed me. I was wearing a longish 1940's style, cranberry colored skirt. He was wearing jeans. This matters because he pushed that skirt up and moved me over his crotch. He pushed me back and forth until the friction from the denim on my clit made me orgasm right there in his lap. "Do you know the word frottage?" I asked. He didn’t know the word but he sure knew how to work me. I was hooked from that moment. It is always the worst (or the best maybe?) when they know that the brain is the biggest sex organ there is.

1. This my first post and while I have another blog I need one that remains anonymous to protect everyone else involved. And lately it seems there have been many others involved. So there we were that day, in the kitchen, my old lover and I. He was there on some business, art supplies I am passing on as I am changing mediums, and it was all fine. We haven't been lovers for months, since summer at least, he has a girlfriend now and I am happy for him. But that day in the kitchen we chatted for a bit and then I got to the business at hand because why dally really. I should mention he is one of my favorite boys. He's good looking in a skater way and he's an artist who seems to fear making art. He seduced me with artbooks the very first time but that's a story for another day. I love to look at men and the smell of them, the timbre of their voices, it all gets me. My problem with many of them tends to be the drivel that comes out when they speak but not this one. So I'm trying to be respectful of the situation as I would hate for him to think I used this art supply thing as an excuse to lure him into my den so I could eat him. He told me about the girlfriend last Fall and due to the fact that they are both quite young it goes without saying that they have a monogamous relationship and I don't cross that line. I get to the point, show what I have, how it works, it is awkward for me to have him there so why prolong it. It is a sunny day which is unusual for January in the Pacific Northwest. He is leaning against the counter, in front of the dishwasher. He takes my arm, pulls me in to hold me, I'll take the hug. Human contact is lovely and my girl and I just broke up mere days before. Hugging is not something I'm good at, it's more intimate than it would seem and I am often unwilling to expose myself. I try to pull away and he just takes me back into the embrace. I am in the moment, my head on his shoulder, I watch the day move by out the window, the sun such a gift, I am grateful.Who knows what came next, his hands on my breasts, my nipples, through my shirt, that gets me every time. He places my hand on his erection in his jeans, I moan, having once had a working knowledge of his cock. I know I cannot go there and he isn't surprised. A condom in his pocket, he thought of this before he came and I did as well. He calls me bad, I am a bad girl, a bad influence, something along those lines, and it displeases me.Why does sex have to come with the good and bad labels? This sex is good and right where that sex is bad and wrong. I tell him in my world, these things aren't bad, that my girl made out with another girl last week and I asked for the details. I am not bad because he chooses to be mongamous. I am a sexual creature but I know where the lines are so which of us is bad? There is more to the story, we didn't fuck if that's what you're thinking. When they break up he will call me and probably not before then because he is living with shame and I am grateful that I have chosen another way. When he leaves we sit outside and he tells me I bring out the best in him, of course I do, and the worst. It hurts me to hear that, to have that label put on me. Am I really bad? Is it wrong that I will speak honestly and openly about my desire? How do I go about finding others who feel this way and support me in my choice to live as a poly woman who has never been in a poly community? This isn't about wanting to or getting to fuck everyone I meet. It is about wanting there to be possibility and honesty. I used to be the worst offender. I was jealous and self righteous, if you love me then you can't be attracted to anyone else and you certainly can't touch anyone else because I will kill you or at least leave you or slap you before I storm off. I thought that's what love meant. As I got older and had more experiences with people I couldn't get more intimate because of my own rigid rules, I started thinking maybe that old model didn't work so well. Then one day in Toys In Babeland in Seattle with my then girl I came across a book, I'm sure you know what it is before I even say it, The Ethical Slut, and when I read it gave words to my feelings and I knew I belonged somewhere. So for today it is only a poly life in theory but the practice piece will come.