Contrary to most people who get to relax in the summer, I seem to never have one spare moment, thus I haven’t been keeping up with my blog. I’ve just spent 30 minutes sitting here typing and erasing and typing and erasing, it figures the one time I actually HAVE time, I can’t think of anything to write. Maybe it has to do with the wine I’m drinking… or maybe not… but soon, SOON I promise I will be back with more sexcapades, and more insights to the world of swinging, open relationships, and polyamoury.
One common misconception about the lifestyle, is that people sleep with strangers, or hop into bed with people for a one night stand, no second thoughts, regrets or concrete plans. While everyone plays differently, and some people do those things, most lifestyle people/couples have rules and plan things out.
They get to know people first, and just like vanilla dating, warm up to things. Maybe go out for some drinks and flirt, try to make a connection on both a sexual and a mental level. After another meeting or two, or maybe a few days of chatting online, they suggest getting together to have some “real fun”. It’s really the same as casual dating, getting to know someone and when you feel comfortable, going for more. Granted, it’s more goal oriented and faster paced, but you still want to find someone who you’re not only physically attracted to, but also mentally.
You wouldn’t date an asshole, so why would you sleep with one? You also wouldn’t start sleeping with someone who you knew wanted a committed relationship, when you aren’t in any way ready to settle down with anyone. It’s the same with swingers, you’re trying to find someone who wants the same types of things. Generally it’s just casual sex, but a lot of couples who play, want to be with other couples on and off the sheets. They actually want to have a non sexual social life as well as a sex life that they share together, like a real vanilla couple, just without the emotional attachment (that’s where polyamoury comes in, but we’ll talk about that later, let’s just stick to swinging for now!).
A lot of swingers aren’t always looking for a one night stand, they’re looking for reliable friends they can count on to have a good time with, whether it’s a wild night of passion, or an intimate conversation at a cafe. Just like casual dating, you want someone you can talk to, hang out with, and have fun sleeping with. It has it’s ups and downs and awkward moments, and it all takes time until you find someone you really click with and want to be with. Just like dating, you find out who is for you and who isn’t for you, and sometimes you don’t call people back, and sometimes it just doesn’t work out.
Couples constantly have this half baked idea that a threesome would be hot, and they take all of 10 minutes to pick out their best friend, and just say “Let’s have a go!” and by the end, everyone is awkwardly trying to clean up and get on with their night, or fighting or crying or whatever, because someone took it too far, or someone didn’t feel safe, or even though you said it was OK for you bf to plow that chick, watching it happen made you mad as hell, and then couples fight and break up.
It takes a lot of thought and time. Not only do you need to talk about the emotions behind it, what acts are acceptable and not, who your partner(s) are going to be, some kind of safety word if things get out of hand, but you also need to talk about the possibility of catching a disease or even getting pregnant. In the heat of the moment people don’t think this through, and then they blame each other for lying, cheating, being a slut, being immoral… it’s not pretty.
Sometimes just like in a normal relationship too, people change. You are no longer attracted physically or mentally to the person, or they’re betrayed you in some way, and you no longer want to see them. It’s just like breaking up. Sometimes its easy, sometimes it’s a little painful, and sometimes it just messy, but you pick yourself up and keep going on.
This is why, to Lawrence and I, it only made sense to proposition the rest of our friends first before going out and trying to find someone new. Who better to date (or in our case, sleep with) than one of your best friends? It’s just more convenient that way.
Alright, so this blog isn’t about documenting my vanilla dating life. The only reason why I jumped so far back to start this blog was just to illustrate that I was not always an “open lover”, that swinging and polyamoury had never really crossed my mind. Sure, I found my self often conflicted, feeling love for more than one person, but didn’t know what to do about it. I just figured those feelings of love would go away and everything would be fine, and that it’s ok to feel trapped in a relationship, even though you’re happy, because you still have feelings for someone else.
It’s just a part of life… but what about sex? I’ve now had a few partners and was finding out that there is a lot of fun to be had with a lot of different people. Lawrence knew I liked women, and was one of the typical males who had no problems with me making out with other women at the bars. For him, it was sexy, not cheating, and for me, it was exciting. Finally, after getting engaged, Lawrence suggested we take a woman home, my dream girl who I had just met a few months ago. She was… amazing. She was industrial punk, tons of piercings, some tattoos, curvy and fit like you wouldn’t believe. When Lawrence suggested a threesome I was in.
There was nothing taboo about it… we had seen threesomes in porn before, we had each participated in threesomes before with other people… it wasn’t cheating, it was accentuating out sex life. This became the first of many times we shared our relationship, and we soon started opening up to the idea of the lifestyle and sharing sex with other people as part of our normal, healthy relationship.
There were not feelings of jealousy, we were both there together, we were both having fun with each other and with other people, we would always talk about it before and after, stop if we were uncomfortable, it just made sense, and felt oooh so right.
Once we got a hang of it anyway.
Ever the drunk asshole (more foreshadowing! I can’t help it!), Lawrence decided to ask a co-worker home the same night as the first time we took home the punk hottie. It ended with a lot of oral sex, her having sex with Lawrence, me having sex with Lawrence, and the co-worker being left out (because I was not at all attracted to him) and then yelled at (because according to Punk Girl, he didn’t know how to please a woman sexually) then us girls running off to the bathroom to have a giggle fest. I ended up driving her home, with her promising me and Lawrence a rain cheque.
This was the first time I was ever in an honest to goodness open relationship, I was now a swinger, and from that point on, there was no turning back.
You know how they say that people need to have a rebound after a relationship, to get their mind of things and get used to being single and back in the market? Well, what happens if you fall in love with your rebound? Or at least you think you’ve fallen in love with your rebound… when do people stop becoming rebounds and start becoming lovers?
Mr. Muscles and I dated for 4 years. We had moved in together, talked about marriage, in the end, he dumped me and I was devastated. I was as heartbroken as heartbroken could be, this time I knew I couldn’t get him back. Then “Lawrence” came along. I would really like to name him douche or asshat (a little prophetic foreshadowing) but I think I would confuse my viewers by his many names, so I’ll use an actual name to keep things straight.
Lawrence and I had been friends since we were kids, and I knew from day one he had “fallen in love with me”. I thought he was attractive, but he was heavy into drinking and drugs as a teen and I dind’t really want to be associated with that, not to mention we were both never single at the same time. We had talked about dating and even hooking up (remember that 2 week “break” in university?) but it had never happened.
Anyway, Mr. Muscles and I had split up, and Lawrence and I start chatting online, he wanted me to come over and “watch a movie”. (Yeah, smooth buddy, like I really think you just want to “watch a movie”.) Anyway, so I did, and I think we maybe kissed, and that was that. I was lonely, heartbroken, he was hot, and he opened doors for me and kissed my hand and bought me flowers… it was the kind of company I wanted after being thrown out the door and stomped on in the mud.
He knew how important Mr. Muscles was to me, and irritatedly sat there while I cried over him, while constantly reminding me what a jerk he was for dumping me, and that HE was the one for me, that he had loved me since we were kids, and he would treat me like a queen and worship the ground I walked on and the pedestal I stood on.
What a schmoozer.
I fell for it.
It wasn’t without consequence though. I was still calling Mr. Muscles, trying to see him, trying to be his friend, constantly struggling with ditching Lawrence and making a go again with Mr. Muscles. He didn’t want anything more than to be just friends though, but I saw the tears in his eyes when we said goodnight, and he held me tight like he used to when we hugged. Eventually he kissed me, and it was so sweet. I didn’t want it to end, I wanted to go back to him, but I was still so hurt that he had left me, and Lawrence was going above and beyond what anyone else had for me before.
This was in December. Lawrence had already told me he had bought me a ring, and was going to propose “soon”. Lawrence and I had a whirlwind romance, which I know now that I was just on the rebound, and the only reason why he was proposing at all was so that I wouldn’t go back to Mr. Muscles. (insert profanity here)
Mr. Muscles asked me to run away with him. He was moving across the country in January, he told me he loved me and he made a mistake and wanted to be with me. He asked me to leave Lawrence, my friends, my family, my job, to go be with him forever.
The only reason I didn’t was because I was scared. I was afraid of what my parents would say, afraid of leaving everything I had known for 21 years, afraid of not being able to find work or make any money… I was being logical and listening to my head (though I suppose you can hardly call fear a logical thing) when for once in my life, I should have listened to my heart.
I loved Mr. Muscles, and I know I say the word “love” quite freely, though even now in my current life I am happy with who I’m with, deep down he is still the one who got away. I still love him deep inside and I don’t think I’ll ever stop, and it’s been almost 7 years.
If I have any regrets from the time I dated Lawrence, it was not leaving him for Mr. Muscles. I cried and cried and cried and told him I couldn’t. Mr. Muscles moved away, and in February, Lawrence and I were engaged.
So, anyone can write about their sexcapades, or write about being a swinger or being polyamorous, but what I’m trying to do here is my blog is show the evolution and thought process behind it all. As I’ve said before, I believe that people may be born “gay” or “straight”, but when you’re swinging or being poly, it is most certainly a choice, and it is a very uncommon choice for people to make, especially when you’re younger, because you’re not exposed to it at all, and there are so many misconceptions around it.
I had completely forgot in my previous post, to mention that not only was I curious about other men, even though I loved Mr. Muscles with all my heart, but remember that nerdy guy I dated? The first guy I ever really did love? Well, Mr. Muscles and I started dating shortly after we had broken up, and for sure I was conflicted for months, even though nerdy guy never expressed wanting to get back together with me, I was heart broken and still very much in love, but also developing love for Mr. Muscles. As a teenager, what are you supposed to do about that? I chalked it up to being normal, because I was still hurt, and that these feelings would just go away. Truth is, they don’t always, and it’s not something you can ignore… it is completely naive to expect to only ever love one person, or one person at a time, in that deep and meaningful and passionate way. What are you supposed to do about it? How are you supposed to choose? It’s like saying you have to give away one of your children. Is there really any logical way to decide? You say hell no, because you love both your children and don’t want to be without either of them. Love CAN be that way too…
Anyway I know I know, quit yapping about love and get on to the wild two weeks you promised us! Well, unfortunately, you’ve caught me after a bad weekend, and I really don’t have the energy to recount the vivid details from my youth, but to sum it up, there was sex and it was good, very good, dirty kinky fun sex (not as much as I had wanted!). One involved a VERY well endowed red head, and then there were sexy showers with my roomates boyfriend, and a threesome with my roommate and her boyfriend, and then there was a 4 some with my roommate, her boy toy (she broke up with her boyfriend) and the girl down the hall, which ended with 3 of us running naked through the dorms throwing cake at each other. Then there was the cute, long haired Quebeqouis boy, who I propositioned, but was turned down because he had a gf who he really loved at home. Also there was a topless lap dance for one of the senior chiropractic students upstairs, which unfortunately didn’t turn into anything more (i think he was leery that i was so young.)
I ended up never telling Mr. Muscles about any of it… I confessed to kissing a few people and it broke his heart and we yelled and argued on the phone for an hour and I thought we were done, but then 4 hours later at about 5 am there was a knock on my door, and he had got up and left to drive to come see me, to tell me he loved me and we were going to be alright.
I was so happy I went off and did my own thing, I don’t regret it, honestly. College is a once in a lifetime opportunity, at a young age, to experiment and have fun and let go and do what you want “relatively” consequence free. I was still so desperately in love with Mr. Muscles though, and after my first year of school I moved back home to him, and we got a house together and started talking about marriage. I never had the urge ever again to cheat on him or think about anyone else. I was ready to settle down and be his wife, his only love, forever, and be one hundred percent happy about it.
Of course, life never goes to plan.
Its said that 56% of people will be unfaithful at least once. A sad, but true fact, that I helped to realize.
Why did I cheat on my boyfriend? Because I was young and dumb, that’s for sure. Do I regret it? How can I answer that….
I was 19 years old, I had only ever had one serious long term relationship, I had only ever had sex with one person, and here I was thrown into University where sex happened everywhere. Everyone just wanted to have a good time, no one was “dating”… just fucking. I wanted to be a part of that.
I had expressed to Mr. Muscles all the things that were going through my head, that I wanted to make sure that this was the relationship that I wanted, that I was feeling like I was missing out, that I wanted to “have some fun”. I wanted to take a “break”. After hearing that he wanted to break up, but I couldn’t handle that. This is where my life as a swinger started to develop, but I didn’t realize it at the time. All I knew was that sex was fun, and I wanted to try it more with different people, like everyone else around me, but I still wanted to have a stable boyfriend, who I actually did love, who loved me in return.
At the time, the quote “have your cake and eat it too” kept coming to mind… I dind’t know better. Hardly anyone knows better. Having a boyfriend and friends with benefits just doesn’t happen. It’s immoral, wrong and it’s cheating… right?
That’s what I thought, so I wanted a “break”. A free get out of jail card to sleep around. While Mr. Muscles spent his time thinking if he wanted a break, or to break up, I slept with someone on the 4th floor of the dorm.
He was a friend who hung out with us on the 2nd floor quite a lot, and he was the man candy of every girl. He was french, from New Brunswick, but I’m going to call him the Italian Stallion, just because this boy oozed sex. He had every girl hanging on his every word wrapped around his every finger. He was very well built, had nice dark skin and big brown eyes to match. He was often the topic of conversation wherever you went, everyone wanted to be with him, yet no one had because they were all too shy, and deep down, so was he.
So, let’s fast forward to the flirting, the obvious advances, me flashing him my tits and locking him in my room… I finally end up in his room, getting nekkid. I was being selfish. I loved my boyfriend, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I felt like this was the right time and the right place. The Italian Stallion thus mounted me and I cheated for the first time.
Do I regret it? Well, which part? I regret that little did ANYONE know he only had a 3 inch dick. I also regret that the whole deed seemed like he was doing me a favour. I also regret that the condom came off (thank you birth control pills!), and I was also going to regret is Mr. Muscles ever found out. What I didn’t regret was being a “free woman”. And I sure as hell didn’t regret spoiling Italian Stallion’s reputation as a minimal, lousy lover. I felt like Carrie Bradshaw, from Sex in the City. How exciting and devlishly cruel and delicious. I wanted more.
My boyfriend got back to me a few days later and said we could go on a 2 week “break”… anything goes.
Hold on to your socks folks, you’re in for a wild 2 weeks.
So it’s now my senior year in highschool. (Well, my first senior year… thank you Canada for giving us 5 years of highschool back in the day…) There was, as always, a boy. Just for the record… this is THE hottest boy I have ever known, met or dated. (Sorry to my current bf!) He was gorgeous. Long, thick brown hair, steel gray eyes, and did I mention he was a body builder and martial artist? Oh yeah. Yum-O. I was smitten from the start… and then some.
This was the boy who I lost my virginity to. We both felt the same about each other, we fell fast and hard. Again, thank you teenagers and hollywood, it was “oh so romantic”. He did sing me songs, and write me poems, and gave me flowers and teddy bears, romantic massages, expensive dinner dates, walks on the beach, camping together, cooking together, anything and everything you can imagine we did. It was really, truly a great and wonderful relationship.
I never had any thoughts of straying, I thought he was THE ONE. We were going to be together forever. We dated for 2 years before I moved 4 hours away to go to University. It was really tough. He wanted to end the relationship, simply because he couldn’t stand to be away from me and do the long distance thing. Maybe I should have listened to him, but I loved him so much I begged and cried for him not to leave. I knew he loved me enough that he would stay, and he did.
Problem is, now I’m 19 years old, and sexually active. He was my first and only, but now, being a young woman, coming into adulthood, living on my own, surrounded by sexually charged and drunken classmates, I started thinking… what was it like to sleep with other men? Would it be different? Would it be better?
The whole two years I dated Mr. Muscles he made it very apparent that he was anti-lesbian/anti-gay. (To clarify, he didn’t care if other people did it, he just didn’t want to participate and wanted me to have nothing to do with it. A guy who *never* wanted a threesome… really?) He knew about my girlfriend and my past, and he didn’t care, as long as I didn’t repeat it.
I had repressed my same sex urges for 5 years, now at University, no one cared at all who you did what with where or when. I shared a tiny dorm room with a sexy blonde. Early on we decided to push our beds together to create more space. Do I really have to spell out what happened next? Well, actually I do 😀 Because that’s the fun part about this blog, reading and living vicariously through someone else s sexcapades.
But before we get there, what about my knight in shining armor? My true love who I was destined to be with forever, who I begged not to leave me, who I was now contemplating if there was something better even though I loved him so much I would cry over him every day at the thought of not being with him?
Well, we did what every other “normal” couple would do in this situation; we went on a “break”.
Of course, that was after I had already slept with someone else.
Do you remember being a teenager, feeling so in love and being swept away by some romance? Expecting men to open doors and always pay the bill and bring you flowers and write you songs? Wanting to know what all the excitement was in a steamy romantic affair? To just run away with a stranger and live happily after?
WTF. Seriously? Hate to break it to you kiddo, that’s not how life works. Affairs never end well, and you man will probably *never* write you a love song, so get over it an move on with your life.
Hindsight is 20/20 of course, because I was young and stupid and thought love was about all those superficial things. I really got caught up with a guy when I was 16 years old. I can truthfully say he was the first person I ever really did love. It was straight from a Hollywood relationship. Shy nerdy guy asks out equally shy nerdy girl, we go for coffee, hold hands, pass each other notes in class, go out on dates and share milkshakes, romantic walks in the park… everything was amazing.
I felt like I was in a movie, until I went away for a few weeks in the summer and ran into an old friend. We had always got along well, but we hadn’t seen each other since we were kids. We had both grown up, and he was quite handsome. (Should I mention he was British? Hello hot accent! *drools*). Now I was conflicted. I didn’t love the Brit, but we had a close connection, and something inside me was burning up. I wanted him so bad.
I told him I had a boyfriend, but that didn’t stop him from holding my hands as we walked because they were cold. He also didn’t mind when we sat down on a park bench and I leaned my head on his shoulder. I wanted for something to happen because I thought it would be awfully romantic, two old friends getting together, realizing their deep love and passion for each other, a romantic affair would start, there would be a quarrel between two men, over me! Somehow in the end it would all work out, right? We would all be happy and it would just be perfect…
Nothing ended up happening with the Brit. I didn’t cheat on my boyfriend, I never saw the Brit again, my bf and I were together a little while and of course, broke up, but now I was lost and confused. If you’re dating someone, you shouldn’t WANT to cheat on them, right? Now I know I was just lusting over the Brit, but when you’re 16, your hormones kick in and you can’t tell the difference between love and lust. I truly felt torn… how can you love two people at once?
It’s not romantic like in the movies. It’s confusing as hell, and it took me until 10 years later to figure it all out.
So my days of lesbian experimentation was over. As mentioned, kids can be cruel, especially in highschool. It wasn’t that I didn’t like girls anymore, it was just that I had enough trouble going through school with big glasses and braces. My girlfriend was long gone to save her own reputation and very quickly slutting it up with the senior classmen, but that just wasn’t my style. I was still young and naive and quite frankly, while I wanted to have a boyfriend and be “normal”, the idea of sex or being associated romantically with men scared the crap out of me.
Fast forward to grade 10, I finally manage to score a REAL boyfriend. (I say real, because I had two “online” boyfriends who were guys I knew from a summer camp, that I saw once a year and we were ‘in love’. HA!) So back to my REAL boyfriend, things were great. Sure I thought I loved him, whatever 14 year olds think love is, and we held hands and went for ice cream, we made out, he touched my boob, and that was about it. Like any other highschool relationship, within a few weeks we split up, and life went on.
Surprisingly that year, I got another “real” boyfriend, problem was he was 5 years older than me and had a daughter. Needless to say my parents weren’t thrilled, and again, it didn’t last very long.
These were basically the only standard and normal relationships I had. They were with straight, heterosexual men, and I was a straight, heterosexual woman. There was no one else involved, nothing sexual ever happened, no one cheated on anyone or left anyone for another person, we were all very devoted to each other and were the best boyfriends and girlfriends we could be and of course, never imaged being with anyone else for the rest of our lives. It was all very vanilla and we were none the wiser.
Looking back at those times, I suppose they were simple. It made life easy to just know what to expect, how to act, how other people view you and respond. We were what everyone else in society was, and wanted us to be. It wasn’t until the next year when I started noticing that “love” wasn’t as black and white as everyone makes you believe.
Let’s travel back to when I was a young lady, not even yet a teenager. What did I know of sex and relationships? Some say that gays and lesbians are born with the desire to be with the same sex. Others say they choose. I don’t disagree with either.
If you are a straight, heterosexual person, is it because you WANT to be that way, or is it because you just can’t imagine being any other way? Most people have wild fantasies about sharing their beds with someone of the same sex, or perhaps even having a threesome. Does this fantasy ruin the idea that you’re straight? If you act on it does this make you bisexual and on your way to being gay?
NO! It just makes you human. Sex is pleasurable, and when you like someone, you like someone, plain and simple. What’s not so plain and simple though is being an open lover.
I don’t quite think that young people grow up thinking that open relationships and shared partners are a path in life they want to take. Some people say they know at a young age that they are attracted to the same sex. Many people know that as teenagers you go through an experimental phase testing the waters of same sex experiences. No one thinks to test or even think about having open relationships, or multiple open relationships. There are the liars and cheaters and players, but where is the wholesome, open love?
I sure didn’t start there. I didn’t know what to think of anything. I was at an age where boys still had cooties, but my best friend, who was also a girl, thought I was cute and decided to kiss me one day. My first kiss ever, and it was fun. I wouldn’t even really go so far as to say we were dating, because it was all kept in secret. We assumed something was ‘wrong’ with what we were doing (how young and naive we were) but our days and nights of holding hands, caressing, kissing and even sexual self exploration went on for about 2 years. Mind you, because we were still so young, our adventures only merit a PG-13 rating at best.
I was having fun. I liked spending time with her. We were best friends, shared hopes and dreams and secrets. She had sweet gentle lips, and a petite body that was appealing to me. I’m not sure what she saw in me (the pudgy nerdy kid) but I never heard her complain and we were happy together until we went to highschool. Kids can be so cruel.
I was very confused, being in a (non) relationship, to suddenely being ignored and shunned, and worse, thrown into a world full of boys. Boys who were dating girls, who acted, smelled, looked and did everything completely different than the only thing I had ever known.
This was only the beginning for me.