Posts Tagged monogamy

Happy New Queer

Three months goes by surprisingly quickly, doesn’t it? Hi, Blogosphere!

It’s been a bit of an odd three months of kind of drifting through life, no longer in education for the first time, freelancing to get by; when I last wrote I’d moved back in with my family for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, while hindsight may always be 20/20, the future is something we’re blind to and that living situation didn’t last very long (Not because of any familial fallouts or anything – it’s just that living under those conditions and in that damn village is not for me. At all). So I’m now back in the city I did most of my undergraduate in and living with a certain central European you may have read about before and her – our, really – flatmate. We hooked up once after I arrived back in the country but before I moved in, and established a no-sex-while-living-together rule which so far we’ve stuck to, even having slept in the same bed some nights in the winter when it was cold/one or the other of us was upset/whatever. She’s also just started seeing this guy she’s absolutely smitten with – actually all of us in the flat and our close friends really like him, so more power to her. I’ve no idea how long I’ll be living here, but that’s kind of interesting in a way; I’ll probably move country again around Easter, with any luck.

I’m still in touch with That Guy I Was Kind Of Seeing, after a blip in communication around early October when he didn’t speak to me for a couple of weeks. Mentions have been made of a possible visit but he also wants to Skype soon for a “proper open discussion about what the deal is with us and go from there” which sounds ominous (and for being the person that wants to have this conversation he’s surprisingly good at dodging Skype, so it’s taking a while). More news on that when I have it.

And I’m also spending a fair amount of time with this other guy I met on OKCupid in October who’s sort of halfway between a friend and someone I’m casually dating. He’s the first person I’ve ever “dated”-ish from the same country as me, I realised a few weeks in, which is interesting/weird (I don’t need to think before I speak or say “Sorry, accent thing” when there’s a miscommunication, which being a linguistic geek I find really fascinating and I wonder vaguely if it impacts on the type of communication we have but anyway that’s not really the point). We get on pretty well and are from pretty similar backgrounds – we actually were both in the same School at University, he in the year below me, but we somehow never met – but there’s not much of a spark and he’s also painfully obviously in love with his best friend which neither of them seem to have realised or aren’t willing to accept, and as I said earlier I’m planning to emigrate again soonish anyway so with all that in mind I don’t really think this is going to be anything substantial in the long-run. But he gives good head and we’re having fun right now which is the main thing, right?

So what can you expect from sexwithdexxx over the next few months? There won’t be any massive changes in the content though I am hoping to write more of the article-style posts which featured in the blog’s early days so this doesn’t just become a monotonous list of casual encounters and innuendo. Nothing too much is planned beyond the first couple of posts – which, of course, hinge on not being cancelled on in the near future – so your guess is as good as mine as to what you’ll be reading should you choose to stick with me.

And so with that little summary out of the way, all I can really say to you all is Happy New Year and hopefully you’ll be hearing from me again before too long!

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Differences

When I was in my last year of high school, I got quite involved with an LGBT youth group in the  capital city, largely thanks to my then (and now) best friend who had been going for longer than I ever did and who eventually ended up working for that organisation for a while. Every Wednesday we’d get one of the school buses we weren’t technically allowed on, to go to one of the two towns in our school district at the time that had a train station (it’s quite rural) and get changed from our uniforms on the train and go to the youth groups and, occasionally, they’d take us away for a weekend for various projects (I’ve written about one encounter that I had in those days here). During one long conversation that had went beyond all reasonable time of night, one of the older people there said to those of us that were still up that “there’s a big difference between having sex and making love, and when you’ve done both you’ll know the difference.” At the time it sort of awed me, but I didn’t really believe it and, as years passed and my sexual experiences increased in number, began to believe it even less.

Now, though, that cynical part of me has been quashed. (There are plenty more of them, but that one is gone at least). On Friday the Boyfriend came around to spend the night before I went to the coast to visit a friend and he went to a different part of the coast to visit his family, and pretty much as soon as he came through the door we were all over each other. I initially had him tied up with his arms and legs to the bedstead while I had a little play around with him. And then, suddenly, as I was straddling him and looked down at his face and into his eyes, there was this really perceptible shift in energy or emotion (I’m aware I sound like a hippy, hear me out) and I suddenly felt this really massive wave of connection and I really felt then how he felt about me, and so without even thinking about it I untied him and we started making love.

I can’t really describe the way it was other than just amazing and intense at the same time – arms wrapped around his shoulders, chest to chest, about as much skin touching as possible, kissing and whispering and just being really close. It was intimacy the likes of which I’ve never experienced before and it was really mind blowing.

It wasn’t mind blowing in the same way that mind blowing intense sex is, in the that was a really good fuck way – because that can, and does, come from a random person you have little to no emotional connection with. It was just a really fantastic, close experience and I feel far closer to the Boyfriend for it than I did before. I know I’ve had my doubts about him and us and I’m not saying that they’ve all dissipated, far from it; and there will continue to be problems and strife in the future, I’m certain. But I’m also certain that I am incredibly lucky to have met this wonderful person (through some very odd circumstances), to be in a place emotionally where I can feel accepting and deserving of the love and happiness we bring each other (because there are times when I really don’t), and to be physically in a place that’s relatively accepting and tolerant of same-sex couples (depressingly few places in the world); and that I am very in love.

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Doubts

I’m posting this because this blog is supposed to be a fairly full and accurate account of my sex and love life and while there are some things that I omit, largely unpleasant stuff, by desire or necessity, without this type of thing I’d be leaving out a large chunk of the first substantial relationship since I started writing in December 2011 and a break-up post would look a little out of the blue.

Like any couple, the Boyfriend and I have our share of ups and downs. The ups are wonderful, but the downs are never very pleasant. We seem to have been at each others throats a lot recently – not in the “hand around the throat during intercourse” sense – and, yes, the possibility of a break-up has been mooted more than once. Topics of conflicts range from the quotidian (“What do you mean you forgot the bread?!”) to miscommunication to open relationship related problems (him not wanting me hooking up with someone I had a romantic interest in when I first moved here or me being upset when he turns up with love bites from someone else when we don’t give them to one another, by agreement).

The good times are great though; and he is incredibly caring and affectionate; this weekend when I was so hungover I couldn’t sit up he came from his city to look after me and even endured Eurovision with me) and even stayed an extra two days to talk me down from the metaphorical ledge when I was going insane stressing out about my interpreting exams.

My main concern, which I’ve raised with him, is this.

  • I’m not sure I’m convinced that the good times are worth the confusion, upset, and sleeplessness of the bad times. Furthermore the fact that it’s only been not quite four months and already we argue like this, doesn’t really fill me with confidence.
  • I’m not sure where I’m going to be – physically – in three or four months’ time. I could be literally anywhere on the continent (today I’ve already been contacted about job openings in the Czech Republic and Éire) and long distance is just icky.

Because of that, a break-up seems inevitable, and I wonder whether it’s better to jump before we’re pushed? At the same time, I don’t want to stop seeing him, being with him, cuddling him, having him in my life, because I’m in love with him. It’s all very complicated. On the whole, I think we make each other happy, and throwing in the towel this early due to vague uncertainties seems a bit defeatist.

In other news I’m also conflicted because I’ve been offered to participate in an MTV documentary featuring young people talking about sex, their sex lives and thoughts and attitudes towards sex. I’d love to be part of it because I think it could be a really good way to get a fairly sex-positive message out to more people than this blog will ever realistically reach (daily page hits have been in decline since the start of this year, probably because I’m not posting as often as I once was) but that assumes they’ll portray me in a positive light rather than editing what I say to make me look like a sex-crazed nymphomaniacal lunatic, which is possible. There’s also a very loud part of my brain – let’s call that bit Rational Dex – who tells me that having that kind of thing out there, viewed by potentially millions and easy to find on-line, would not do my career the world of good. I know that the same could be said of this blog but a casual reader here wouldn’t be able to recognise me in the street or office precisely because there are no photos of me here, and to the best of my knowledge you can’t find this by googling the name that’s on my CV. Decisions decisions.

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Красивый

Two days ago I got a message on one of my hook-up sites from a guy who lives a couple of hours away, coming down here to visit family. My profile on that site says something along the lines that speaking more than one language is an asset as far as I’m concerned, and in his message he asked which languages I spoke; his profile said he was interested in languages too, so I asked him the same question an it turns out he has a degree in Russian (and that he did his year abroad in the same place as my friend Hitraya, but they weren’t there at the same time).

From the way his messages sounded (“Well if I’m free I’ll let you know…” “Sorry I can’t be more specific…”) I assumed that he was just interested in chatting and that we wouldn’t actually meet, but today I was in town and he text me; it turns out I was in a shop he works for in a branch in his own city, and he offered me his staff discount (40%! Hello!) so of course I said sure and along he came and, true to his word, the discount happened. He looked as good as he did in his photos; 26, around my height (185cm, if you’re wondering), maybe two or three kilos heavier if that; dark hair, cut fairly short, with designer stubble, and of course, Big Brown Eyes. Yum.

We went for a coffee, and had a chat about our times abroad – always interesting to hear about other peoples’ experiences like that, and it turned out he’s actually been on holiday to the city I lived in in Italy, which not many people have (I usually have to explain to people where it is!). When we left the café, I invited him back to mine, and we jumped on a bus.

Unlike my bad experience with That Wanker from last week, this was really quite good! First of all, he was a good kisser; everything was reciprocal; he’s versatile too but bottomed for me. I think some of my experiences with the Boyfriend might have ruined me a little, because I now seem to have trouble staying aroused if I don’t have a hand around my neck, but this guy was very obliging about that. We switched between a few different positions before I finished myself off over his chest as he fingered me a little, kissing the whole time, and then he came in my mouth, before we got cleaned up and headed back into town. He was really easy to get on with, easy to talk to, and he’s said that if I’m ever in his city I should let him know because he’d like to fuck me; likewise, if he’s back down here any time before I leave (only 4 months to go!!) then fingers crossed for a repeat performance.

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The Higher your Number, the Lower your Value

I have some very talented, inspiring sex-positive friends out there. This poem was written by someone who I used to be on a committee with but never actually started speaking much to until I’d moved away from where we studied together, unfortunately, but we’re making up for lost time now. I asked her to write a bit of a commentary to the poem which is below it. Enjoy!

 

i never thought i’d hit double numbers by twenty,

was always taught the higher your number

the lower your value.

felt safe when my body count fit on one hand

remembered those people who told me

everyone you fuck takes a little bit away from you,

wondered how long til i was left empty.

but those nights i spent with girls

against bathroom doors, in their brothers beds,

didn’t feel draining

walks of shame didn’t feel so shameful

as my number grew so did i

left behind hair grips, underwear, but not any parts of myself

took books and photographs instead,

reminders of girls i loved or liked or wanted

for a night, for a moment

reminders that i am not who i fuck,

but if i was

i’d still be incredible.

“Before I lost my virginity, I was terrified of what having sex would mean. I grew up in a Catholic family and went to a Catholic school, so a lot of emphasis was put on how important sex was and how important it was that it only happened between a married man and woman. When I was much, much younger I genuinely did think that I wouldn’t have sex before marriage, and me and my friends would sit and imagine what losing our virginities would be like- these discussions usually involved lots of declarations of love and candlelight. When I realised I was gay though, I realised that I probably wouldn’t be losing my virginity to my future husband, while I was okay with that, I was still scared that after I did have sex, I’d feel different or regret it.

“When I finally did lose my virginity, it was not at all like the fantasy scenarios me and my childhood friends had imagined. I was drunk, and she was a complete stranger. It was the opposite of how I had imagined it to be- but somehow it was a ridiculously nice experience. The next day I didn’t feel any different, I didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed like I’d been told I would, and all the fears I’d had surrounding sex pretty much disappeared. Over time I grew much more comfortable with my sexuality, and realised that every person I slept with was a new experience that added something to my life, rather than taking something away. So that was what I was thinking of when I wrote the poem- that having lots of sex isn’t a bad thing if you don’t want it to be, and it doesn’t change anything about who you are. “

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Over and under

I’m just back from a lovely extended weekend with the Boyfriend. I had my last set of classes until mid-April and a mock exam (which I excelled in, obviously; fingers crossed I can pull off a performance that well the last week in May) on Thursday so went out and got drunk that night, and turned up at his very hungover the next evening, he helped me recover by means of extensive cuddling and we had a fairly early night followed by some morning sex.

This time it was my turn to be the one in charge, which I quite enjoyed and he seemed to like as well. The first time he properly dominated me I wrote how it was a bit hypnotic to be focused 100% on someone else’s pleasure; having someone else 100% focused on you is equally amazing, if a bit more effort. I fucked his face for a while before lubing up, pushing him on his back and getting on top of him. You would think (I certainly always did) that bottoming also meant automatically being the submissive one in these contexts, but that couldn’t be further from the truth! Tumblr provides us with some useful advice here, from a blog called The Healthy Dominant:

advicew

Having a hand around the throat really does help keep the submissive under control, and it’s quite a nice sensation to have your hand there in the first place. There’s something quite gratifying about seeing his face turn red as he’s fucking me from below, and thanking me for spitting on him. (Actually he doesn’t like being spat on as much as I enjoy spitting on him, so we compromise and I spit in his mouth instead.) As we got closer to the end his breathing got faster and the thrusts became more frantic. “Come on, fuck me, really fuck me, do it like you hate me” and he did and it was brilliant. I came on his belly before he pulled out and we kissed while he finished off, then had a cuddle and some toast. Not a bad start to the day!

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Two-way street

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!

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