Polyamory, bisexuality and maybe even some atheism

Things I’ve Learned March 20, 2012

I’m sure I mentioned this in an earlier post, but men have become more appealing of late. I think that comes from having sorted out a lot of my shit in that department and having come to understand and accept my kinks and inclinations.

For instance, I wondered if, in being drawn to being dominant towards men, I was simply reacting to the submissive-by-default status of women in what little BDSM I had previously been exposed to as well as, well, the world in general. I wondered if wanting to hurt them was perhaps more a political thing than a personal thing and maybe, deep down, I really didn’t want to do it at all. I know that my reaction to being struck, dominated, etc. is almost immediately aggressive and potentially violent in just about any context, and that should have been a clue, but such is the power of suggestion and conformity. It’s just so much easier (at least in theory) for a woman to be submissive that when you’re not, you’re left second-guessing yourself. At least I was.

Then I met a woman with whom I had amazing chemistry and whose libido was about as strong as mine. We spent at least the first three months fucking like our lives depended on it at every single opportunity. The funny thing about all that sex is that it didn’t really help us get to know each other all that well as people, but it certainly helped both of us get to know ourselves an awful lot better.

I can’t write about what she learned, but for my part, I found out that I really do like running the show. I really do like impact play. I really DON’T like being on the receiving end of impact play, but trying it and finding out was actually pretty fun anyway, and I only really concluded that it wasn’t for me afterwards. I don’t mind hurting women or dominating them, though I much prefer things to even out in the end. I get off on hurting people in ways they like. I get off on playing with people’s bodies and figuring out what works for them and what freaks them out (in a good way). I don’t mind tying people up, but I much prefer simply not allowing them to move. I love the feel, smell and weight of a whip in my hand. I love just using my hands. I love using my mouth, and especially my teeth.

And, at the same time, I learnt that a lot of the stuff that freaked me out or that I didn’t like the idea of wasn’t all that scary after all. I may not like it, but that’s ok. I have the right to not like things. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It did not shatter my idea of who I was. It did not make me a bad person. It was just…stuff.

For a while, I thought it was weird that sex with a woman should help me sort out stuff about sex with men. Eventually, it dawned on me that, duh, it’s not that different. I feel safer with women in general, but I felt particularly safe with her, at least sexually, and that allowed me to let go and experiment with stuff that, in the past, I’d been far too wound up to even think of trying. I’d thought for the longest time that it just took me longer to trust men than women sexually, but really, it was me I didn’t trust. I was afraid that despite what I really wanted, I would simply freeze and then revert to the handy-dandy little  he-Tarzan, me-Jane script when dealing with a man.


I don’t have to do that. Or, if I really feel like it, I can do exactly that. The key is figuring out what I want at the time and articulating it and then letting the response be about the other person and not me.

And the end result is that while that relationship may have gone south, it’s left me in a much better place. I’ve actually started to notice men and to find lots of them sexy without knowing the first thing about them. I know most people will think that’s perfectly normal, but it has rarely, if ever, happened to me.

Now to figure out what to do about it.


No Big Deal May 8, 2008

Filed under: Definitions,Lust,Polyamory,Sex — Araliya @ 9:35 pm
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Another post by Greta Christina on the Blowfish Blog. This one’s about the importance and effect of non-monogamy in relationships, even if said non-monogamy is mostly theoretical. A quick quote.

Which brings me to the best thing about non-monogamy. For me, anyway. When you’re not monogamous, you realize that not every single person you’re attracted to is someone you’d seriously like to fuck if given the opportunity.

Also, check out Greta Christina’s blog for her other writing, particularly her stuff on atheism.


I get like this sometimes April 17, 2008

Filed under: Bisexuality,Lust,Sex,Sexuality — Araliya @ 6:05 pm
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I woke up thinking of her this morning. I was snuggled up with H and we’d been cuddling in the haze that precedes wakefulness. I felt safe and warm and loved and fully aware that it was his arms holding me – nobody else touches or feels like that. There was nowhere else I wanted to be.

But I was thinking of her too. The way she looked last night. The way I caught myself staring a few times. The way my chest constricted whenever I caught her looking back. For the first time, I began to suspect that she may not be straight, but then I shook it off. Obviously, I want to think that and that alone is enough to throw off my gaydar but good. But she’s sweet and friendly and there were moments when we connected and started to approach, but the room was big and people wanted to talk to us about different things so we couldn’t. And then it was time to go and she asked me if I’d be there next time and I said yes, definitely, and she said oh good.

When I got out of bed, I went and re-read Jen‘s post on the ‘look’. She says:

…Inside that look a million messages are transferred in a frozen moment in time – but all the messages can be reduced to the exact same thing.


…want to talk to her, date her, kiss her, possess her, touch her, dance with her, fuck her, drown in her, caress her, make love to her, discover her deepest thoughts and secret dreams…want to know more, to learn what makes her heart beat quicker, to know how she tastes and what she sounds like when she comes…want to hear what she is afraid of, what her favorite TV show is, what she is doing on Saturday night…want her to look back…want her to want in return…

Yes. Exactly. That. All of it.

Jen’s was one of the first blogs I read (from beginning to end) before I started my own. I found her through Mortar and Pestle, another blog that served as inspiration to go ahead and write ‘out loud’, so to speak. I also discovered Melissa Ferrick through her and have spent the whole day listening to her stuff. Just what I needed, really. I’m in no mood to listen to men singing about women and women singing about men. Not today.

It’s funny how familiar the person you’re obsessing over begins to look. I love her face – I’m generally quite happy with the way I look, but she has exactly the kind of face I’ve always wanted/thought was the absolute definition of beauty. I find myself memorizing her expressions, her mannerisms, her voice, repeating them in my head so they’ll stick. I caught myself speaking like her just a while ago. It was a little thing, but it stayed with me.

But it’s the little things that get you. They creep in unnoticed and by the time you become aware of them, there are too many to get rid of and they’re already joining forces, taking over. My head’s full of images. Her laughing, arguing with someone, raising her eyebrows when she’s making a point, asking a question, saying hello, sipping a drink, being nice to someone who’s irritating her, slipping her arms into her jacket, walking away. She looks both strong and fragile. Her voice catches and trembles sometimes. I love watching her wrapping herself up before she steps out about as much as I like watching her peel it off – perhaps more.

I feel vaguely happy today. Vaguely high. I wish I weren’t so easily…what? Distracted (from everything else I should be doing, that is)? Enchanted? Obsessed? I don’t know. But if I’m going to be in this funny state, I suppose I may as well enjoy it while it lasts.


Public Service Announcement: When is a mango not a mango? March 26, 2008

Filed under: Lust,Sex — Araliya @ 10:59 pm
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When a rather attractive man casually boards a tram with a half-peeled mango in his hand and proceeds to eat it, that’s when.

Now, you can hold the mango as you would any hard fruit, but allow me to remind you that mangoes are not hard. No. They are, in fact, rather squishy and juicy. So much so that, while you may dive in with the ol’ bite and suck, some juices will nevertheless escape and start to run. Given that you will be hanging on to your grocery shopping with the same hand that’s bracing you during your ride home, you will have no choice but to catch these dribbles with your mouth. Much licking, lapping and slurping will ensue, after which, you will turn your attention once again to biting into the fruit, causing more juices to go running down the sides and onto your hand and wrist. To prevent them from traveling down your forearm and dripping off your elbow, you will have to lick them off your skin. That done, you will, with remarkable unselfconscious and laudable dedication, continue to nibble and suck on the gorgeously textured flesh of the fruit in your hand.

Incidentally, you will also be driving anyone in possession of both a cunt and eyes in your vicinity Absolutely. Fucking. Batshit. Insane.

Just thought you should know.


Boys, girls, rambling craziness March 23, 2008

Filed under: Bisexuality,Figuring it out,Lust,Polyamory — Araliya @ 12:12 pm
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So I ran into boy-crush while I was with H. We didn’t stop to chat or anything, but after he went by I couldn’t help grinning and asking H what he thought. Kinda like you do when you’re in junior high, you know? Ugh. Anyway. H was rather neutral (but hey that’s better than pointing and laughing) though he did help me identify who BC reminds me of – it’s been bothering me for a while – and, after I pestered him a bit, offered up a few observations. I dropped it after that though the silly grin persisted for a while.

The thing is, I want H to like him. No, not like him exactly, but to ‘approve’. He’s (jokingly) said before that he wouldn’t mind my pursuing BC even though he’s not too thrilled about the idea of other men, which is lovely of him. But I’m not too sure that I actually want to follow through on that. It might be nice – it certainly is in my head! – but even though he makes my knees go all wobbly, I’m a bit irritated by it all. Here I make all this effort to articulate my bisexuality and work out my discomfort with monogamy, putting H through the wringer in the process, and come out the other side with this idea that ok, polyamory and bisexuality are a go, and I go for a man? So what’s this mooning on about women then?

Granted there’s girl-crush and there’s more of a green light there, but this is where my laziness and fear catch up with me. She’s adorable and I’m getting to know her a little bit better, but she knows I’m married so even if she’s a confirmed lesbian (and I have NO idea – my bastard of a gaydar gets seriously compromised when it comes to people I am actually interested in) there’s a lot of work to be done before I can broach the subject with her. At the moment though, it’s at that sweet stage where you know you’d like to spend some more time together but need to meet on neutral territory a few more times before you make that investment. As friends, of course. Which is what makes me feel like a bit of a sneak. Not that I wouldn’t want her as a friend – I would. But, well, you know.

That’s why it would be so much easier with BC. I present as a straight female, so with men in general, the sexual dimension is assumed. There’s a constant looking, asking, assessing in play so – provided nobody shrieks hell no right at the beginning – hang about long enough and it’ll come up. Not so with women. With women, the more time you spend together the less potentially sexual the interaction. Obviously it isn’t impossible for things to heat up, but when the woman you’re lusting after says “Oh wow you’re married, huh?” you kinda feel what little hope you had disappear in a puff of mocking smoke. (I look quite a bit younger than I am, so people also tend to remember that I’m married because of the double take they do when they first find out.) I mean, I couldn’t very well have stood there and stammered out an explanation of how that really needn’t bother her, could I? That would have been awkward. Too much too soon, perhaps? Remember, I don’t even know if she digs women at all. Gah.

I’d really like to make it easier for those interested to identify me as bi, but how, short of wearing a placard, do you do that?


Crushed March 12, 2008

Filed under: Lust — Araliya @ 10:54 pm

Meg’s post on crushes was timely reading for me today. I recently ran into both boy- and girl-crush and, both times, was rather pleased at my ability to carry on a reasonably intelligent conversation while my insides tied themselves into knots and my brain threatened to turn to mush. It’s weird how much *noise* starts up in my head when I catch sight of them. The only advantage of not being 14 any more is that I now have the wherewithal to actually string sentences together and be polite and friendly even when what I want to do is pounce on them right there.

Did I mention we sort of work in the same general area?

Chances are, the next time I see them, there will be alcohol. Chances are, I will hide at the other end of the room in order to avoid the embarrassment caused by any untoward pawing, fawning, drooling or gibbery noises I might indulge in if I’m not careful. Chances are I will feel like a complete idiot anyway.


Impure thoughts March 1, 2008

Filed under: Lust — Araliya @ 6:16 pm

(No I’m not Catholic, but I think my parents’ generation being educated by Catholic nuns figures heavily in my family’s psyche anyway.)

It’s just one of those days. Gorgeous sunshine but a chill in the air that makes staying in bed particularly delicious. My feet were so cold I could feel each toe singing with it, but the rest of me was nice and warm under my soft, cuddly blanket. I love blankets. And quilts. That’s probably why I like the cold so much – you get to bundle up and feel held and warm.

Sleeping in is nice, specially when you’re just awake enough to think about certain people and what you’d like to do to/with them. Certain people being, specifically, a crush and his girlfriend. In real life, I try to avoid them because there’s no sense getting all worked up for no reason, but when I’m lazing around with nothing too pressing to attend to, I think of the little things about them that turn me on. He has a tendency to go about in shirts with the cuffs rolled up and the first few buttons tastefully undone. No expanse of chest or anything too in-your-face; just the tiniest bit of skin showing at the neck that makes me want to rip the whole thing off in one go. She has wavy hair that just touches her shoulders. I can’t explain how hair can look like it wants anything, but hers looks like it is desperate to touch her gorgeous skin properly. Hmm. Perhaps I’m projecting?

Suffice it to say that they are two particularly wonderful examples of human beauty. He’s at that mid-thirties to mid-forties stage where men look pretty much as gorgeous as they ever will. Still young, still strong, but tempered, a little weathered, even a little grey. It’s the way their skin sits on their faces, the way they’ve finally grown into their bodies, that is utterly delicious. She’s a bit younger – closer to my age, which makes her body more familiar than an older woman’s. I know how taut the skin will be, how her just-right breasts will look when she lies on her back, when she arches is, when she sits up, when she bends forward. (I nearly fell off my chair the other day when she leaned forward in her seat to rummage for ages in her bag for a pen. I had an extra but no power on earth could have made me offer it to her and ruin the view.)

I could so get in the middle of that.