Disclaimer: This post mentions topics involving sexual activity and consensual sexual violence. Not suitable for individuals under eighteen years of age. Reader discretion is advised.
Coping when everyone wants the biggest slice of the polyamory pie.
This morning started off largely uneventful. It’s a Monday, Monday’s are always stressful, and Mondays are always, technically, days when I don’t blog. Mondays are the day when I change the bedsheets, except that those are still wet and in the washing machine and need to be redone. Monday is also the day when I give the kitchen a good top-to-bottom scrub and the day when I clean the fish tank filters. It’s also the day when I look at my blog statistics, you know, just to make sure that I’m doing good.
One of the newest changes in my life, which I already know is probably going to be a rule (even if only in theory), is the presence of black lace thongs. There was nothing intentional about it, it was just a thing that happened, and now it’s stuck.
Like me, Will is a keen writer, mostly in erotic fiction, and he has already shared with me three of his pieces. His most recent – also probably the longest – has the mention of black lace thongs and that the women who wear them being the women who go after what they want (hello, hi!). Nothing about my decision to wear one as based on his story, my selection was purely coincidental and based on what was clean on my underwear shelf at the time.
Black lace thong today. Pure coincidence but did give me a smile :p xx
That was it. That was all it took. Black lace thongs are now a thing for me.
On day one of wearing them, I felt almost sexually liberated. It was like some kind of sensual awakening, I was ready and rearing to go at any moment, at any time. Not just for Matt, but for Will too. Somehow, I had become of them. I belonged to them.
“What time did you come to bed this morning, Mrs S?” Matt asked.
“Late enough” I smiled. Oh crap. Of course my most recent blog post had told on me.
“Hands on the dining table, now.”
The problem with thongs is that they offer you absolutely zero protection. Each blow connected, and each blow sent home a message: 2AM is the rule. 6AM is unacceptable, and now, 6AM had consequences.
Six of them, to be precise.
I shuddered under the pain. Did I really want this? Did I really want to do this? With two men? Did I really want to let two men control me and use me like this? Did I really want twice the trouble?
Yes, I did.
For me, polyamory and open relationships are mothing new. My mother and father had an open marriage and it lasted thirty-three years. right up until my father passed away in 2019. Mum idolised my Dad, and Dad would do anything for her. Mum also had a Dominant partner, Paul, who she was with for several years and who was like an uncle to me. Their relationship ended sourly because of Paul’s own infidelity. and after that, Mum was faithful to Dad until the end.
While that is one example of how an open relationship or polyamory can work, it is by no means the only way. As much as Will and I are interested in the BDSM lifestyle, we’re also both hopeless romantics, keen scientists and enthusiastic astronomers – something that Matt prefers to only do when the weather is warm. As much as we’d talked about the possibility of playing together someday, we’d also talked about cuddling up for a night under the stars.
But when you start to fall for someone in polyamory, you have to think of all of your other poly-partners, and when you do that, sometimes you realise some uncomfortable truths.
The first anology that I precented to Matt was the concept of sticky balls. I know that for some men then that probably sounds like a horrendous idea, but bear with me here.
Imagine that we are each a ball, and on our outermost shell are the things that we are really into. For me, my outer shell might read something like: BDSM, humour, cooking, music, swimming, animals, astronomy, disabilities. For Matt, his might read something like: Football, gaming, cooking, music, humour, TV, animals, history.
As you can see, Matt and I have four ‘sticky bits’ in common, so we make quite a good pair, but what about the other four sticky bits that I need to be truly happy? What about one of my really big sticky bits which, until me, wasn’t a part of Matt at all?
I’m talking about BDSM.
You can’t just throw a BDSM sticky part at a partner who isn’t into initially into BDSM. If they don’t have a sticky part for BDSM as well, then your enthusiasm probably won’t stick. Matt has tried to meet that fifth ‘sticky bit’ for me, but he just doesn’t really have a kinky sticky part (careful Helen!) and I respect that. If Matt doesn’t have the sticky bit to start with, then I can’t force it.
But what if there was somebody else that I could share my other sticky bits with? Maybe somebody else with’ sticky bits’ similar to my own? Not fully identical, of course, but similar.
What if I could meet my BDSM and astronomy sticky bits with Will? There are dozens of people living married lives and BDSM through polyamory, not just me!
All that leaves then is swimming and disabilities. I mostly talk about my disabilities with Bill, and I’m absolutely fine to swim on my own. Have you ever tried talking to someone and swimming at the same time? It’s kind of impossible.
But what I then realised is that I have four sticky bits with Matt, two with Will, and only one with Bill. It’s not intentional, of course, it’s just how it happens. Even if I”ve known Bill for years, we’ve just never knowingly had that much in common. Unlike Matt or Will and I. we’ve never been up chatting until the sun comes up. We send one another a quick off-the-cuff check-in most mornings, and that’s about it for us. That same spark isn’t really there in our relationship, and somehow, that’s okay.
When you first enter polyamory, you realise that ‘love’ is an infinite thing and we have more than is enough for one person. You love someone, and another, and that feels great.
But when a third comes along, you soon realise that things aren’t quite as even as you first thought. You think love is both infinite and a set amount, until it’s not.
Which brings me to my second polyamory analogy.
When you first cut up the polyamory ‘pie’ (that would be love), sometimes you think everybody will get an equal slice. If you have two partners, they will each have a half, three will have a third each, and so on. No squabbling, no arguments, all is fair.
What actually happens is that the slices are rather uneven. Perhaps you have a primary partner, such as a husband or a wife, and they will of course take the biggest slice. Perhaps you have a long-term partner, and they will have the next biggest portion. Maybe you have a new polyamory partner and they start off with a huge slice (we call that New Relationship Energy) and that slice becomes smaller (or even non-existent) as time goes on. Jealousy happens and arguments ensue, what matters now is how you manage it.
One of the things that Will and I are resolute on is that our primary families come first, and as such, he makes sure that I don’t ignore my time with Matt, and I make sure that he doesn’t forget his wife and kids. Like this, we can hopefully stave off some of the problems that come from NRE. I also make sure to shower matt in affection and thank him every day for allowing me the chance to explore polyamory. Even if nothing happens with Will, it’s the fact that he trusted me in the first place which will matter most.
Will and I have already agreed that our first ‘date’ – if there is to be one – will be at Bristol’s science museum, We The Curious. If Matt and I got married in the museum on the grounds where we went on our first date, then if there were to ever be some kind of “wedding”, that might just give you some indication as to where it might possibly be. All distant possibiliies for now of course – we still have yet to meet!
I used to take prospective boyfriends to the science museum because I can get 2-for-1 tickets, because of my benefits. It’s a great way to get to know someone without breaking the bank… careful I don’t take you there :p xx
Excellent! You forget that I’m a scientist at heart xxx
It’s true. He is, and I did.
So that’s that settled then. Our first date, if it’s to happen, will be at the science museum. The same science museum that, by now, I know like the back of my hand.
I’ve already done my research into the visiting We The Curious and sadly, they still have a face masks policy in place and restrictions on certain exhibits. Even just as friends, it would still be nice to get to know Will without any limitations – at least outside of those set my our primary partners, anyway.
It’s day two in thongs and I’m seeing a marked difference in myself and my husband. I’m constantly lustful and in ways that I’ve never been before. At one point, I leaned over the sofa to rifle through my box of ‘fish bits’ when the thought struck me:
There I was, bent at the waist over the arm of the sofa, slightly on my toes. My elbows rested on the arm as I stayed poised, right in front of the hallway door. My black thong on and my fitted smart black trousers being the only thing to cover my ass, my long auburn hair fell over my shoulder as I waited for whatever should become of me next. I hung my head for a moment and bit my lip, finally accepting the eroticism of my submission to these men.
What the heck have they done to me?