Posts Tagged honesty
Not relevant at all but this is my 100th post on this blog!!! Thank you so much to everyone who reads it, whether you’ve been here since day one or today is your first day reading. A special thanks also to Sparkles, Purple and Lady in Red for coming up with the idea in the first place and encouraging me to start this!
When the Boyfriend and I first got together and had just discussed the ground rules and parameters of how open our relationship would be, he mentioned it to a couple and friends and relatives of his, at least two of whom expressed the same concern: that it was all well and good for me to be okay about myself sleeping with other people, but that I might feel differently about things when the Boyfriend went and did the same.
To be honest it was a concern that hadn’t occurred to me, but when he mentioned it to me I realised that it was a valid once since in most if not all of my previous relationships – granted, the last one ended in August 2011 and I’d like to think I’ve grown a great deal since then – I have been a jealous lover. So I told him that when he hooked up with someone else, if I did react badly to it, we’d sit down and talk about it and reassess what our arrangement is – fairly reasonable, no? We both thought so anyway.
He came over this weekend – I was only gone for a week, stressful ferry journey back but very good and inspiring week away – and before he did so told me he had some “weird news” for me; when he got here (with his brother who was visiting him for the weekend) I asked what that news would be and it was his brother who told me that the Boyfriend had indeed hooked up with someone else the previous night when they were out. I was a bit taken aback, because it wasn’t what I had expected to hear (there’s a bit of an odd situation involving his ex and someone else we know going on so I’d expected it to be about that but apparently we’ve moved on from there) .
We didn’t really go into the details there in the kitchen – I’m sure his brother wouldn’t have wanted to know all the gory details anyway – but I brought it up during our pillow talk that night. I asked him what had happened and how it was, which I’m not going to go into here because it’s not my story to tell; and then we spoke about how I felt about it. I can honestly say I was actually quite happy about the whole thing, which even surprised me a little bit. There were two or three main reasons for this, the main one being that I no longer had to worry about my reacting badly to it, like his friends had worried I might, since that had been in the back of my mind; it means that the relationship is more in-balance, since me sleeping with other people when he hasn’t been could have caused resentment and a sense of unfairness; and also, I think it’ll have done his self esteem very good, which makes him happier and in turn makes me happier to. When we were first discussing these things he rather self-deprecatingly said that it didn’t matter too much since he only had “a theoretical chance at casual sex anyway,” which I disagreed with, but now he knows that’s not true.
So everyone’s a winner – he got some sex while I was gone, whoever this other guy is (he doesn’t know his name) got some too, I’m happier about or relationship and the Boyfriend seems to be as well. I don’t think we could ask for a better outcome to your partner hooking up with someone else!
Adorable Bastard has had his title upgraded now to The Boyfriend. Yep, you heard it here first (unless we’re friends on Facebook), Dexxx is no longer single. Weird, n’est-ce pas? So how did this come about? It was me who was unsure as to where I stood after our last conversation and things still felt a bit up in the air, so I asked him outright – “What do I call you when I’m talking about you to other people? This Guy I’m Seeing seems a bit long winded…” and we settled on boyfriend.
You should all know me well enough by now though to know that this isn’t your conventional couple-type relationship. Back in the very, very early days of this blog I wrote about non-monogamous relationships and the negotiations surrounding them, from the perspective of someone who’d never actually done any of that. You can read the post here, and actually what’s described in there is more or less exactly what happened both in our initial “what is this?” conversation and in a couple of others since then. It was all amazingly straightforward (because The Boyfriend is a reasonable human being and we both share the belief that being honest about your desires is probably the best way to get them and being up-front about your concerns is likely the best way to avoid problems later on), actually, though just because I’m using the past tense there doesn’t mean that these negotiations are over – everything is always up for open discussion at any time, as it should be.
The agreement, then, is this. Both of us can, guilt-free, hook up and have sex with other people (as long as that person isn’t in a monogamous relationship themself); to this end I still have my grindr profile active but it does now clearly state on there that all I want is NSA, which brings me to point two. While sex with others is okay, dates involving other people are not – no going out for drinks/dinner/coffee with other people, because that – to me, anyway – suggests romance and emotional involvement which is not what we’re going for here. Terms of endearment, cuddles and affection stay between the two of us, anything else is Just Sex. This probably in theory (though isn’t something I’m too worried about in practice as I don’t tend to get a lot of repeat performances anyway) also means not sleeping with the same person more than a few times, because that also is likely to end up having some sort of emotional string attached to it. Weirdly – or maybe this isn’t weird, you tell me – that’s the side of things where I’m more likely to view something as cheating or betrayal; have sex with other people all you want, that doesn’t bother me. But don’t spoon them all night and make them pancakes in the morning, or go for coffee with them and ruffle their hair or call them darling. All in all, it’s an arrangement which I’m very very happy with and he seems to be too, so long may it continue.
(It should also go without saying that we’re vigilant about safety and I have a seemingly endless supply of condoms and about half a litre of lube at the ready whenever it’s called for. This also means telling one another what we’ve done, when and with whom so we can decide what we feel comfortable doing with one another in terms of keeping ourselves safe.)
We’re having a lot of fun in bed and out of it. I’m getting to explore my dominant side a little which until now has been quite dormant, which I’m really enjoying, and means I get to put the collar I bought when I was visiting Magenta to good use. Bite marks, scratches and bruises are all kept below the neck though. We’ve yet to actually tie one another up but I’m looking forward to that happening!
At our last pre-Erasmus party, the summer at the end of second year (2009), there was quite a lot of vodka going around. That’s to be expected when you’re at a party with a lot of people from ex-communist nations, I suppose, but I was young(er) and naive(r) than I am now and was quite surprised by it. When we ran out of the regular stuff, Kate (not her real name) pulled out a bottle written in Cyrillic which I assumed was from Russia but it turned our her dad had brought back from Ukraine. More was drunk.
Our hostess, R, had some friends there I’d never met before and one of them was tall, thin, tanned, all in all quite attractive. And he was half-way through a Ph. D in Chemistry, so clearly had brains. And social skills! Win. I expressed some interest to R who then apparently spoke to her friend L who mentioned me to the Chemist, and he then followed me into the kitchen when I went to get a top-up of whatever that Ukrainian substance masquerading as vodka actually was. And we kissed.
Luckily, some of the other flatmates had gone out to a club where Kate and her then-boyfriend worked, so I mentioned to him “Raspberry’s room is empty” and off we went. We were on the bed,him on top of me, still fully clothed but grinding quite hard, when the door opened and R walked in with a face like thunder. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “She’s not happy”
“One of you,” she said accusingly, “has my cigarettes!!”
The Chemist sort of gestured towards the door and told her they were on top of the fridge. What they were doing there I’ll never know, I never thought to ask, but R seemed quite pleased with this answer and off she went to the kitchen. We got back to business, before realising that we had no condoms and our prospects were therefore quite limited. We needn’t have worried though; the door opened again a few minutes later and there stood Raspberry, back from the club, who clearly hadn’t been warned there were to people in her room. She sort of screamed a little bit then apologised and backed out, and we decided it was probably time to stop what we were doing. As we were getting dressed, the Chemist ventured “You can come back to mine if you want… I mean, I’m going on holiday tomorrow so you’d have to leave quite early…”
And pulling my T-shirt over my head, I retorted without thinking, “Hah, I’m not that interested”
And that was when I realised I’d turned into a harsh bitch.
I should be in bed with a boy right now, but I’m not, and I’m quite pissed off. He started messaging me on one of the sites I use last week, he seemed not to be a complete idiot, was quite attractive (big brown eyes!!) and HE COULD SPELL which makes all the difference.
We started texting a few days ago, then when it turned out my flatmate was going to be away for a few days this week I invited him over and we arranged for tonight. We were going to meet at seven for a drink and then go back to mine. Quite reasonable.
But then of course, regular as clockwork, at twenty past six, “someone drove into his car”. That seems to compete with “my granddad died” for the top spot of shitey excuses people use when they, in all probability, don’t have the nerve to go through with things. If every person who has said to me that their car had crashed has actually had a crashed car, I must be some sort of curse, maybe I should start charging insurance companies commission or something.
If you change your mind, people, please, just say so. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times and I must have written it on here half a dozen or so as well. It’s a lot less insulting, the honesty is appreciated.
Following my last post about running into Talkative Boy and having an ill-advised conversation with him, KittyMama commented that “we say it a lot, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” But when you’re drunk and the player is right infront of you, it’s hard to hate the game.”
I used to quite like the phrase “don’t hate the player, hate the game,” it has a purpose; a bit like religion, it lets you shift the blame for someone’s shittyness (totally a word) away from them and onto this mysterious outside force, over which they have no control.
I choose to hate both the player and the game. Because you have a choice, you always have a choice. You choose whether or not to pick up the gun, take that pill, pour that next drink, to eat that chocolate, or to play the game. Not that I’m saying game-playing is on a par with manslaughter and LSD, but you know what I’m getting at. No-one forces you to obey the three-day rule, or to “not seem to keen,” or any of the other weird rituals we have around copulation. I’m not saying that some of these things don’t have their place, but the majority of what goes on in these situations is unnecessary, frustrating and a waste of time.
I’m no saint, and I have been guilty of doing the odd bit of game-playing at various points in the past, but I really do try to avoid it as much as possible. It’s really very simple; be honest, be direct, be upfront, don’t be mean. You’ve got a much better chance of getting what you want, of being happy with the outcome, and it’ll help you avoid making enemies. If everyone hates the game as much as they claim to then why are so many people still playing it?
Three guesses where this person lives!!
Last summer I was outside camping with some friends. We were almost in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by big trees right next to our tent and next to an open field. Somehow I ended up in my friend’s tent (which is a whole other story to write about) and we had barely fallen asleep when the wind started kicking in. Normally I’m not afraid of thunderstorms but this one was right over us. The lightning came right along with some earth shattering thunder.
It was like Noah’s perfect day to take his new ark out for a ride – Armageddon LIVE! – and I think for the first time in my life I was really aware that nature is so much more powerful than we humans and that if we don’t take good care of ourselves we could end up dead…
“But I don’t want to die!!”, I thought to myself followed by the first next thought that came to my mind….”I need to have more sex!!!”. I don’t know if you ever had the feeling that this might be IT. But I figured that the “I need to have more sex” thing was definitely something that needed to be realized ASAP!
So obviously we all didn’t die, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to write this story but I didn’t forget about my “God’s given ‘vision’ ”
Since I am so not into the whole “let’s go out dancing, get drunk and find someone to have sex with”-thing and I am also not really into having sex as a straight woman – I was hunting around for places where my queer self would be much appreciated AND I could have sex (also, there is a slightly higher chance of running into men in woman’s underwear at queer sex parties than in an ordinary club ;-))
Luckily I live in one the the world’s most artsy and colourful cities, so there are countless possibilities to find a good sex party: straight, lesbian, gay, queer, BDSM, trans*, role play, with and without playing dirty (maybe the term “golden shower” rings a bell) leather fetish….we even have several locations which offer special “playgrounds”, meaning you find cages, crosses, stretching banks as well as whips, riding crops and bondage gear. As I always say: we live in paradise. It’s right there in front of your eyes, you just have to look around and view it. (As Willy Wonka likes to sing….I have a chocolate fetish by the way, but then who doesn’t ;-))
Off I went to my first sex party which luckily somehow was almost right next to my place, so even as I wanted to chicken out there were no excuses like “but it’s too far, I’m too tired, it’s raining”. I decided to go for a “no underwear, nylons, mini-skirt and minor-see-through shirt along some with heels” – outfit.
It was a party for women, lesbians and trans* which also offered a short bondage workshop in the beginning – something that I always have been curious about.
The place itself looked like a “playground for adults”. As I walked down the stairs I found myself in the arousing world of leather swings, cages and gynaecologist chairs – so hot! Very happy about this newly found universe in the city, I was literally gliding upstairs, flying by the bar straight into another room in the backside of the club.
Comfy, wide imitation leather couches were waiting for their horny guests.
The woman who was offering the bondage workshop gave the female crowd an overview about the basic rules for tying someone up nicely and even more important: safely! (Note: always have a pair of scissors handy.) I was so excited about learning about different ropes and knots to fiercely dominate and tie up the next person who would be remotely submissive, but after several demonstrations of different knots (and a very long working day) my brain was one big knot itself and couldn’t remember anything that it just had been taught. So there went my fantasy…
So I bravely volunteered to play the submissive part as we got to practise on each other. In walks – as I like to call her – Bondage Girl. Tall, athletic body, short blond hair (and a very stylish haircut! I am a sucker for stylish haircuts!), green eyes…”So…you want to be tied up?!”…rope in her hands…
I huddled up in my short skirt and nylons thinking: “I’m not wearing a thong…now everyone is gonna see my…ah…right! Sex Party…! Exhibtionist mode on…!” (not that it’s ever off)-
Bondage Girl straightens out the rope… it gently glides around my ankles winding its way up my each leg like a snail… smoothly moving the soft nylon on my skin…
“Shall I go on and tie you up even more? I am in the mood to experiment…” Experiment away!
The rope continues its journey around my hands which are now safely secured in a praying position in front of my chest. Each time she makes a knot she pulls the rope gently but firmly, leaving no doubt that she’s in control. She takes my shackled hands, puts them behind my head and starts sliding the rope around my chest…there is no way to move my hand from the back of my head. She loops the rope around each breast continuing making smaller knots on my sternum…then she pulls the whole art work on my sternum towards her…It’s like 10 pairs of hands touching you everywhere of your body, luring you with the sweet gentle touch of a lover and leaving you with the feeling of being someone’s prey…
I never thought I would enjoy receiving bondage, leaving me wanting more. In my personal life and in my life as woman who runs her own business I am quite the doer. So of course it first felt like the obvious and natural thing to be the one to “do” (give) bondage to a play partner. WRONG! It was somehow not only arousing but also very relaxing to for one moment NOT be the one to “pull the strings”.
Guess you never know until you try 😉
After this night I ran into the woman who was offering the bondage workshop during a female porn award party (GOD! I love my colourful artsy hometown!) and I kind of started seeing her. Since she obviously is into giving bondage it naturally led to being “tied up” during another sex party where I also had a fierce “foreplay” with a gorgeous trans* in woman’s underwear, suspenders, nylons and high heels…but that’s another story…
In case you are getting curious yourself about going to a sex party – here are some tips.
Things you want to check before going to a sex party and while you are there:
– Check with people who already have been there if it is a safe place for you to be there – what were their experiences like? (I did ask the owner and well known sex-positive activist in my favourite sex shop for women and trans* as well as people from the queer community)
– Know what you like or would like to experience and were your borders are. Being tiet up might be a lot of pleasure for one person but sheer horror for another.
– ALWAYS PLAY SAFE!!!!! If you are going to a sex party there should be free access to condoms, dental dams and gloves as well as lubricant. If you have small hands like I do it might be a good idea to bring your own gloves in a smaller size since I mostly find gloves starting at a medium size at these parties. Of course this works, too, but if you are finger fucking someone – especially guys – the gloves tend to wrinkle up which can be a bit unpleasant for the other person. Also for fisting it’s important that the gloves fit perfectly well.
– For sanitary purposes there should be disinfection spray and wipes. All surfaces at the party should be able to be cleaned and disinfected. The playground should look and be left clean.
– The rules of the sex party should be printed out and visible to everyone. Read them! Normally the door men or woman or someone who has already been there will explain these rules to you and give you a tour through the location.
– Always check if it is ok to watch a sex scene. Of course you don’t just walk up to someone and ask during their play but normally people give hand signs or let you know if they don’t want you to watch. It’s always good to ask when you arrive at a party what the rules about watching a scene are.
– If you are hearing the words “Help me, please help me!!!” it’s not necessarily a reason to rush over and “free” the other person. Especially at BDSM parties this can be part of the play. However each party has code words to ensure the safety. I mostly find the code words: green, yellow and red. Red usually is the term for “stop”. Make sure to know what the code words are BEFORE becoming intimate with someone. Talk to the other person about your code word for “stop” and know theirs.
– Get to know the person(s) you will have sex with BEFORE the actions starts. A good and healthy minded play partner will ask for your borders (“is there anything that you don’t want me to do?”) and might even check with you during the action when unsure. Since I am not of the quiet kind I had a very cute play partner ask “Is it ok what I am doing?” couple of times during our night of fun before s/he knew for sure I was (very!!!) fine 😉 For example: I like to be tied up and spanked but you don’t want the person to grab my feet – Might seem illogical, but it gives you an idea.
– If the person wants you to do something you haven’t tried before and you are curious but inexperienced: Let them know! They might be fine with it and teach you something new and exciting! However if you are not up for this particular new practise, just say “no”.
– The most important thing someone taught me at a sex party was: “You have to learn to say NO.” If someone wants to have sex with you but you don’t, it doesn’t mean that you have to say YES because you are at a sex party. NO it is! Also, if they are into something that crosses your healthy borders and you don’t feel comfortable with: NO!
Having sex is very intimate and you open yourself up to someone because you trust them. Always make sure you are and feel safe otherwise you will be left with some scars (not only physically but mentally) and you might end up paying a lot of money for a good therapist.
– Stay clean! Sex parties are definitely not the place to get drunk or take drugs of any kind. You want to be your sober self who is aware of what you are doing and what you are receiving. Though there are quite some drugs out there that can intensify the pleasures of sex I certainly would not take them with someone I don’t know.
– Be yourself! Be open about what you like. Dress like you feel like. One of the questions I get the most is: What to people wear during a sex party. Well, that depends on the party. If it’s a BDSM party I see a lot of leather gear. At a party for woman/lesbian I found a lot of tank tops and jeans, at a queer party I found people dressing from casual to half-naked-pink-butterfly-elf with glitter. Some are standing by the bar in their underwear, others have see-through tops, I like to go for short dresses and skirts without underwear and nylons…so it really depends on what you like! Don’t dress as someone you are not, try to find a way to express yourself through your outfit.
COME as you are 😉
It’s half past one in the morning and I can’t sleep. Given that I started my final finals today and have another one on Thursday I could likely be putting my insomnia to better use, but no, here I am, writing on my blog and listening to Roxette.
Some of you will remember Sonic who has popped up once or twice in the past. Being a first year and living in university-owned accommodation, Sonic has no fewer than eighteen (count them) flatmates (of whom at least five are in some way Queer, at the last count). One of these is a lovely Iberian boy who for the purposes of this blog we’ll call Fofo, because wordreference tells me that describes him. Anyway, I’ve had a bit of a thing for him for a while – makes a change from the central Europeans– and on Saturday another flatmate of his and Sonic’s invited me round for some drinks and guitar playing. By which I mean listening to others play the guitar, I can’t play it at all. There was quite a crowd there but over the course of the night our numbers dwindled until there were only four of us still up. At this point it was almost five in the morning and the flatmate who had invited me up suggested that rather than face the walk home I sleep in Sonic’s bed, since she’s in her home country until this Friday and her roommate is sleeping with one of their other flatmates just now so the room was completely free. She then went to bed, followed shortly by the girl from the neighbouring flat. Fofo and I said goodnight, he went to his room and I went to Sonic’s, to sleep for a few hours at least before meeting Tigger for lunch.
I didn’t even have the light off before my phone beeped. Here we go, I thought, Fofo wants it in him. (Crude? Me? Never). It was indeed him. This conversation then happened:
Fofo: Good night
Dexxx : Sweet dreams. If your roommate starts talking in his sleep just come through here, the other bed’s empty.
F: Haha he is again snoring but me is in my PJ’s and cozy
D: Fair enough. Night then!
F: U comfortable though?
[he definitely wants it in him, think I]
D: Well it’s weird being in someone else’s bed (no jokes!) and it’s a little cold…
F: Haha it can be weird. I’m sure you can deal well with the cold
D: Well I’ll just have to!
F: Hum don’t be sad about it! I’ll see you tomorrow then?
[might as well be direct]
D: Unless you want to see me just now
F: You are just relentless now are you not?
D: Just being honest. Ball’s in your court
F: Hum fair enough. I’d like to go there but my prude side is still hard to deal with.
[uh-oh, he’s nervous, say something to calm him down a little]
D: I’m not saying anything like that would happen but I do actually quite like you. It’s up to you but decide soon, my phone’s about to die
F: I think I won’t go there for two reasons: you’ve told me you like me and if I went in there it would only be out of a carnal desire. Second: I’m still coming to terms with myself about casual sex. I am sorry if I have hurt or offended you in any way.
D: Don’t be silly, of course you haven’t. Sleep well.
(I’ve never been referred to as a carnal desire before, I think I like the title.) The next day he apologised again for potentially having offended me so I thought, we clearly have to settle this and went round to see him on my way home from a meeting. He somehow managed to say neither what I thought he would say (“I was drunk, ignore it all”) or what I wanted him to say (“Fancy a shag after all?”) but managed to rather eloquently highlight how I managed to shoot myself in the foot. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want to go to bed with you,” he said. “It’s that you said that you like me and I don’t want to mislead you, I think you deserve better than that.”
Well, that’s what I get for being honest I suppose. I’m not trying to criticise him in the slightest because he was, after all, only doing what he thought was the best thing in the situation and I can sort of see where he was coming from. I think the lesson I’ll have to take from this is to be less forthcoming – or at least, more cautious with it – with people who I would like to get to know as more than a casual random fuck. You live you learn.
On a completely unrelated note, I’m thinking of starting up a new feature called Submissive Sundays; if you feel so inclined submit (see what I did there?) a story or article to do with sex or relationships to tripleXdexxx@gmail.com and we’ll see about getting it posted. It can be random thoughts, something you’ve got strong views on, a funny story to do with your sex life (past or present), or a response to something I’ve written, really anything goes. I already have two submissions and a third one in the pipeline, but if I get a lot of interest I’d like to make it a regular thing.