Goodbye Monogamy Hello Polyamory

When I was younger, I just assumed that all romantic relationships were monogamous, and that as soon as you had the boyfriend / girlfriend conversation you would only be with that person. Because that’s the reality that society, TV, and the film industry sells to you.

I did have a couple of relationships in my early 20s where my boyfriends would ‘let me’ do stuff with women – presumably as they weren’t threatened by them (I don’t tend to date women – a blog on that coming soon), and also one of them liked us having threesomes with other women. But I wasn’t really allowed to do anything with other men. This was a massive double standard on that guy’s part since I would literally let him fuck other women in front of me. But anyway…

I think I’ve actually always been polyamorous. Around that time of late teens / early 20s, I was unfaithful in a few relationships, and although I knew logically it would hurt the other person, I also didn’t see why I couldn’t be with two people at the same time.

When a boyfriend cheated on me at the age of 19, I was a bit annoyed, but not massively. I went to visit him to try and ‘sort things out’, we all went for a went for a walk, and me and the other woman swam in fucking sea together in the middle of the night. Didn’t even try to drown her once.

She did tell me I could slap her in the face at one point when I was talking to her in her room (they lived in the same block), and I did, and I enjoyed it. But that might just be the kinky side of me. In terms of jealousy, I don’t think I felt what society told me I was supposed to feel. If anything I found the jealousy kind of hot. (The story of me and him in general is far more complicated than I have space for here – but I thought that anecdote was relevant to mention).

The boyfriend I dated for a year and a half, 2014 – 2016,  was very much into monogamy to the point where he said that if I even kissed anyone else, male or female, he would break up with me. This took me to new extremes of monogamy – on a female friend’s birthday night out, she went to snog me, as we often did while drunk, and I had to literally stop her and apologise that I couldn’t do it anymore. (Yes I could have just kissed her anyway and not told him, but I didn’t).  

I did start to wonder whether monogamy was for me, and whether I wanted to live with all these restrictions in my relationships. After that relationship ended I decided I wanted to be monogamish. Where you are mostly with one person, but you’re allowed to have the occasional kiss or shag etc (using condoms obviously), and it doesn’t have to ruin the relationship.

This came a lot from seeing so many people in relationships cheat on their partners. I’m sure there are some people who are truly monogamous, and would never cheat no matter what the circumstances, like that particular ex, and if that works for you, then great, but I do think total monogamy is unrealistic for a lot of people.

Why can’t we just admit that we find other people attractive and sometimes want to act on that? Instead of pretending you don’t and then making things worse when you deceive someone. I feel like relationships would be a lot better if we were just more honest with each other.

I tried to put this ‘monogamish’ into practice with the ice skating guy, but admittedly I did find it difficult. In theory we were not exclusive, and when he went to Madagascar to stay with a friend he used to fuck, I told him it would be okay if he wanted to have sex with her. And I did mean it, and would have been fine with him doing it, however in practice, when I was faced with the opportunity to sleep with other people while he away, I myself turned it down – three times! From two past fucks and one potential new one. Because I actually did feel a bit guilty about it – like it wasn’t the right thing to do while I was dating him.

The potential new one was a guy who I had amazing chemistry with, who was about to move to a different country, and I just know we would have had such great kinky sex, but I didn’t do it. I fucking wish I had now.

After it ended with me and ice skating guy, I vowed never to put all my eggs in one dickhead again. And not just aim for monogamish, but more like full blown non monogamy or polyamory. Potentially dating  / seeing several people at once. Not only because you miss out on experiences when you restrict yourself like that, only for them to fucking break up with you anyway. But also to try and quell my habit of getting too attached to one person, scaring them off and getting hurt. I wanted options. Which I think is probably quite an unusual reason for Polyamory, but actually one that seems to be working out quite well. Which I will go on to explain.

Around this time, something that helped me through the feelings after the break up was that I reread The Power of Now. And actually started putting it into practice. It’s basically all about intensely living in the present moment. You can think about the past and learn from it, and you can plan for the future, but you have to remember that all we really have is the now, and that everything else is an illusion. I have a tendency to get carried away with future plans when I like someone, and I think that polyamory is the height of mindfulness, because it doesn’t see relationships in terms of one attachment to one person – it’s more about that particular time you have with that person at that moment in time.

Something that has stuck out in my mind for about 14 years is when I read ‘ A History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters’ by Julian Barnes. There’s a chapter called Parenthesis all about love where he quotes a writer called Mavis Gallant who said ‘The mystery of what a couple is exactly, is almost the only true mystery left to us.’ At the time I didn’t really understand, but as I’ve got older, I’ve come to realise what he meant. Being in a couple is quite a weird thing really. And it’s different for everyone.

But back to being in the moment. Why should you limit yourself?

If you have different friends to go out for drinks with or go to the cinema with, then why can’t you have different people to have romantic and / or sexual experiences with? The thing is that when it comes to sex, some people like to have this possession or ownership over someone else, and that can be where problems arise from.

I also like the idea of a spectrum. So maybe you have lovers that you also have totally non sexual moments with, but also have friends you might share a sexual or flirtatious moment with. Polyamory is more of a way of life with self contained interactions and not trying to get everything from one person. It means that if you’re dating someone who is not into a particular kink that you are, then you can always do that with someone else instead. Polyamory also suits my lifestyle because as a stripper, and a massive flirt, it means I can do all this and not worry about someone getting jealous or possessive.

So a few weeks after I decided I was going to try it out, a guy messaged me on OkCupid and we started chatting. He was in an open relationship and we agreed to meet for a drink. As soon as I saw him I fancied him, plus he was really easy to talk to. We kissed in the pub and were getting along really well. He wasn’t really taking the piss out of me as much as I like, but as soon as I told him that’s my thing, he definitely got into it.

After a few drinks, I got hungry and we went to the shop, got sandwiches and then we broke into a park and ate food, and hung out and chatted more. I told him about one of my kinks (wet and messy fetishism) that I sometimes allude to, or even take part in, but often without having the full deep conversation about it.

I don’t always feel totally comfortable talking about it, but with him I felt like I could. He said he would like to try it with me, and his positive reaction has made me so much more confident in discussing it, in fact I’m writing a whole blog post on the subject. And some jokes.

Anyway, hanging out was really fun, and at one point in the park I’d said part of me wanted to just fuck him there and then, and then he told me about him and his girlfriend’s no penetration rule. (Which is a double shame as he also said he would like to be pegged). In fact not only, do they have a no penetration rule – they actually have a no pants completely off rule, and a no oral rule. Which basically means fingering / hand jobs only.

Ah.

Apparently they are building up to it. They started the open relationship earlier this year as they both fancied people that they work with, so she has a guy from work that she sees regularly, but for him the woman from his work didn’t want to see him in the context of an open relationship. (Hence being on OkCupid looking for someone he could spend time with too).

His girlfriend also sees the wife of the man she is seeing from work, sometimes with him and sometimes without. So it’s an interesting set-up. They also can’t stay over people’s houses either. (They live together).  It’s an odd concept in a way because the whole point of polyamory for me is not to have rules – but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect their rules. Also the fact that we can’t go too far makes it kind of hot. Like an affair without the guilt. Obviously I am hoping in the future that we can do more, but for now I don’t mind the tease.  

The second time I saw him he came over to my flat. And this is where kink really comes in. Because when you can’t fuck, you’ve got to do other stuff. When I told some people he had come round, but that him and his gf have the no penetration and no oral rule – they were like ‘what’s the point?!’ but I can tell you now that I had one of the most fun nights of my life.

We drank wine and played chess. And he suggested that every time one of us loses a piece the other person can ask you to do something. He asked me to show him my tits, then asked me to do role play where I had to dress up like I would as a stripper, but try to talk him into a game of chess instead of a dance – which was both sexy and hilarious at the same time.

I asked him to slap me in the face, and then poured a bottle of water over him #standard. He ended up whipping me and dripping candle wax on me, and then we were asking each other intimate sexual questions, and it went on for so long that we had to just give up on asking for tasks and finish the game.

He forked my king and my queen with his knight, and I lost, which of course only made me more turned on. I ended up playing with my vibrator, and then his dick, and he came all over my tits. Shame it wasn’t on my face, but I think we decided to save that. The next day he texted me saying ‘I hope you’re still annoyed that I beat you at chess’. So. Fucking. Hot.

It’s definitely an unusual experience when someone else is in your ‘relationship’, because it’s literally already their relationship. Like he mentioned that he’d told his girlfriend about my wet and messy fetish, and I was slightly annoyed. But then immediately really turned on that he’d told her something so personal about me.

He said he would like me to meet her at some point, and that might be just hanging out, or it could turn into a threesome – it totally depends. I’m quite curious to meet her actually, and part of me likes the idea of sleeping with her too. Unfortunately he said she’s not that kinky – as the thought of us hurting each other really appeals to me. Perhaps he could just tie me up and fuck her in front of me. I like that idea too.

It’s been a real lesson for me in getting used to seeing someone, but maintaining a distance. Here’s the thing – I really like him – but I don’t spend all my time thinking about him. I don’t get angsty if he doesn’t text back straight way. And of course it means I don’t feel guilty about talking to other guys and setting up dates with them. (I have two this week). I can tell him about my other sexual experiences like when I fucked the 20 year old, and we can talk openly about it.

It also helps that he’s not a frequent texter generally. So he’ll text to arrange meeting or to say he had a good time, and a bit in between for a quick catch up. But the fact that I’m not expecting to hear from him every day, or even every week, has taken the pressure off so much.

I know that he’s thoughtful, and interested in me – he’s listened to podcasts I’ve been on and he reads my blog, but there’s no need to have some perfunctory conversation about how our day went all the time. One of the things that fucked me up with ice skating guy is that he texted so much at the beginning, so it was so noticeable when he didn’t text as much.

Ironically on one of the podcasts I was a guest on in February this year I talked about being monogamish, but not polyamorous as such. I even said that I hate it when guys online in open relationships message you because they want something extra, because I’m thinking I want to be the main person, not the extra. And perhaps that was how I felt about it at the time, but I’ve definitely got a different point of view now. A girl can change her mind, after all.

Being polyamorous has also changed my perspective on other people’s relationships. In the same way I’m training myself not to presume gender, race, sexuality, and so on, as well as not having heteronormative views on sex and ‘virginity’, I’m also not presuming monogamy. Admittedly the two men I was recently interested in who are in relationships, did say they were indeed monogamous when I asked them, (one said he would have been interested in me otherwise, the other one I’m not sure), but you never know. My mother always taught me if you don’t ask, you don’t get. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t talking about polyamorous sex, but the point still stands. 

My ideal situation is probably to have a few people that I see regularly for dates and / or sex / kink. Although I don’t have massive amounts of free time – so not sure how frequent each one could be. Perhaps there’ll be one that will turn into more of a boyfriend / girlfriend type thing, but for me that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop seeing this current guy occasionally as well, (which means obviously they would have to be polyamorous or at least monogamish too). I enjoy his company, and I shouldn’t have to give that up. He’s coming to one of my gigs soon, and I’m looking forward to him telling me which jokes of mine he didn’t find funny afterwards, possibly over a game of chess, and some wine…

Fucking, foreplay, and heteronormativity

The other day I posted on my blog about fucking a 20 year old (guy), with the caveat that I had done it before, but only with two other people in my lifetime. A woman I slept with a few times at University commented ‘weren’t we 19 when we met?’ And it drew attention to the fact that I only count men in my ‘number’.

I have a list on my phone simply named as ‘fuck list’ – we all have a list, right? With a symbol next to the ones that were good? My list is only guys who have put their dick inside me. But what about women? Why don’t I count them? Perhaps because the word ‘fuck’ sounds a bit rough, or violent. It evokes the action of penetrating. It’s not a word you associate with going down on a woman. In fact I just found out that there’s a radical feminist movement on the internet who think that PIV / PinV (penis in vagina) is always rape because it’s a ‘violent’ act. I obviously don’t agree with the theory, but perhaps that’s a discussion for another time.

Anyway…if my list is only about penetration, then what about the fact I’ve fucked women with strap-ons, and vice versa, surely they should be on the list? But then a strap-on is not part of me, so is it not the same thing?

If I was going to start counting women, what do I count? Do I count fingering? Or do I only count it if we did oral? Or if we did it in a bed and there was a whole long experience? What do women who only sleep with women count? I’m guessing different people count differently. I know some gay men who do count oral sex as sex. And what if I had sex with a woman who had a penis – why would I count that, but not a woman who doesn’t have one? The implication of only counting it if a dick is in the equation is that you’re automatically inferior if you don’t have one. Ah the patriarchy.  

And it’s not even that I don’t count women, I only count PinV sex. There’s a guy I had sex with once, but he only fucked me in the arse (perhaps a story for another time), so he’s not on my list. I also don’t count a few guys who I only had inside me for a few seconds. 30 seconds or more at least. In the pussy. That’s my rule apparently. My list is very selective. 

If I start counting women, surely I need to also count all the men I did fingering/oral sex with? But I can’t remember…I can’t remember the names of all the men and women I gave oral to, but for some reason I’ve made a special effort to remember the names of every man who has fucked me with their dick.

Because heteronormative society views that as the height of sexual experience, and I am just as guilty of subscribing to it. I’m often eager to get to the penetrative sex, even though I don’t always enjoy it the most. Why is oral and fingering called foreplay? Because intercourse is supposed to be the fucking main event.

But sometimes ‘foreplay’ can be the ‘main event’. It was great to see Grey Worm giving Missandei cunnilingus in Game of Thrones – but that’s literally because he doesn’t have a dick. How often do you see that on TV? I think there may have been a Misfits episode where Simon does it to Alisha, but it doesn’t happen that often.

It also goes back to the social construct of ‘losing your virginity’. The fact that in straight terms it’s basically when a dick goes inside you. But what about gold star lesbians? Or gay men who don’t do penetration? Do they spend their whole lives as ‘virgins’?! Do they think of themselves as virgins?! I’m guessing not. Sometimes you gotta make your own definitions. 

Even the language is all wrong. Losing your virginity. Like it’s something to be held onto. Not an experience to be gained.

Maybe I don’t count everything, because once I’d, in theory, gone the furthest, I wasn’t interested in counting anything less than that. I did used to count how many people I’d kissed and all their names, but once I ‘lost my virginity’ that took over. Or maybe I don’t count all the experiences more than kissing, because then my number would probably to be closer to 100.

But why do we count anyway? Why does it matter what my number is? I guess numbers are a quick way to find out how sexually experienced someone is, but it doesn’t work if you’re not including all the information.

It’s probably just another way to shame women for being too ‘frigid’ or too ‘promiscuous’, and a way to shame men for being too ‘frigid’. (Since they don’t usually get shamed for promiscuity). Plus you could have had sex with lots of people, but only once, or sex with not as many people, but lots of times.

It’s really difficult to retrain yourself out of the heteronormative way of thinking, but I’m going to give it a go. From now on, I’m going to count all the experiences I have, whether there ends up being a D in my V or not. I will try and stop using the term ‘losing virginity’, and I’m going to edit my list to include all my previous sexual experiences (that I can remember) from both men and women. Just not those ones that lasted less than 30 seconds. Fuck. That.

 

What’s it like to fuck a 20 year old?

Ok so it’s not the first time I’ve fucked a 20 year old.

Other times this has happened:

  1. At 19, when I lost my virginity to a 20 year old. 
  2. At 28, I fucked a 20 year old who was very kinky – he choked me, stuck his fingers down my throat, and came all over my face. Then he had the cheek to ask me to lend him £20, as he’d lost his bank card, along with some headphones, so he could listen to some music on the way to Fabric. #youngpeople (To his credit I did get them both back).

But now I’m in my 30s.

So is 20 too young?

It was the Friday before Halloween, and I went to my friend’s warehouse party. Here is a picture I took while getting ready, before I put my  dress on.Carmen Ali Halloween PicIf that’s not a picture that says ‘I’m getting laid tonight’,  I don’t know what is.

After about an hour of being there, this boy came over to me. He said the party was ‘lit’. Apparently that’s a word young people are using a lot at the moment.

Me: How old are you?

Him: How young would you go?

Me: Um…18 maybe

Him: I’m 20

Me: Oh good

In my head: I’m glad he’s not 18

I did also check his id to make sure he was actually 20, because unlike Kevin Spacey, I like to practice challenge 25 when it comes to random guys I meet at parties.  

And so it went on. He had all the cockiness of a 20 year old who knows that he is hot, but I kind of liked that. He seemed sure of the fact that he was coming home with me that night, and I felt he would be too, but wanted to make him work for it a bit. He was cute, blond, and skinny, and I was definitely attracted to him. His banter was a bit second rate, but he didn’t seem to mind me telling him his jokes were shit (as well as twisting his nipple pretty damn hard within about 2 minutes of meeting him). 

He said I was a ‘freak’ like him, which made me think of the Sugababes song. Ah early 2000s nostalgia. He asked me if I was into candle wax, so I told him about my candles designed specifically for wax play, and the night descended into flirting, kissing, and talking about what we were going to do to each other. He also asked me if I had any anal beads. (Do I look seem like the sort of woman who doesn’t have anal beads?!) I’d ran out of my wine pretty quickly, so it was also handy meeting him, as he kept giving me some of his rum and coke and I didn’t have to walk to the fucking shop. We hung out in his friend’s room and made out. We talked about having kinky sex, and he choked me, we slapped each other, and he sucked and bit on my nipples. 

Eventually we went back to mine,  and I asked him what kind of music he wanted to listen to – he said ‘Disclosure’ (no idea) so I found it on Spotify (seemed to be a mix of artists) and put on an album.

I sat on top of him on the bed, we were kissing, and I picked up a bottle of water and poured it all over him, soaking his white T-shirt, because let’s be honest, all white clothes look better when wet.

He looked initially annoyed, but then resisted when I tried to take his shirt off before tying him up, so perhaps he liked the feeling of the damp fabric stuck to his skin. I tied him to my bed with duct tape, and slapped him round the face several times. He deserved it for his earlier cockiness.

I pulled his t-shirt up to expose his nipples, lit a candle, and dripped wax all over them, and the rest of his chest. He writhed in a sexy ‘I’m in pain but I like this’ sort of way, and I thought I’m definitely enjoying my dominant side at the moment.

I remember untying him and him fingering me. It was okay, not the worst I’ve ever had, but my g-spot wasn’t exactly bursting with joy,  ready to write its own blog post about it. I started playing with his cock, but there were no signs of life. He had mentioned he’d taken a bit of cocaine earlier in the night, (but had stopped when he knew we were going back together) and he had drank a lot, but I suspect he was also a bit intimidated by me. What a loser. #banter 

Anyway, I sucked his dick diligently, and eventually it got just hard enough to put a condom on. We had sex for a bit with me on top, then it fell out, so we switched to doggy, and he put his thumb in my arsehole, which always feels oddly satisfying for me. I think men must know that it’s an instant way to improve mediocre sex. He spanked me a little, and we were getting into it for a while. But eventually I got a bit bored, so I stopped and I took my vibrator out, and even though it felt like my batteries were running out, I just about managed to cum. I thought it was funny that my ejaculate fluid on my bed made a dick shape. It was almost like my pussy was saying ‘ha ha I don’t need you’. 

He tried to wank over me, but he couldn’t cum, so we went to sleep. I think he felt a bit disappointed about not being able to fuck ‘all through the night to the early morn’ and said he was going to fuck me properly the next day.

At around 8am in the morning I caught him taking a photo – I had heard the clicking noise, so I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was taking a selfie, as his friend had asked him where he was. #20yearolds

He swiftly got dressed, left sheepishly, and I haven’t heard from him since. Ah a true one night stand.

So here are the lessons I have learnt (yes sometimes you gotta learn a lesson more than once)

  1. One bottle of wine is not enough for a party
  2. I should have used the anal beads on him while he was tied up
  3. I often enjoy flirting, kissing, and kinky foreplay more than actual penetration 
  4. I need to get some Viagra or similar, as this has happened way too many times for me not to have some on standby
  5. That Sugababes video is weirder than I remember
  6. 20 probably is a bit too young

 

Hit the Road, Jack

I went back on OkCupid because in no particular order:

  1. I don’t learn my lessons. 2. Sex.

I started talking to a guy called Jack. I did say to him on our date I don’t tend to use real names on here. But it seemed relevant for the name of this blog. And since I’ll (probably) never see him again, we have no mutual friends, and I don’t even know his last name, I don’t think it matters too much.

We texted quite a lot before meeting, bonding over our mutual love of Peep Show, Venn diagrams, and roller-coasters. He asked me a lot of personal questions before we met (which I don’t mind answering if I get a good vibe from someone). Sometimes it’s quite hard to build flirtation before you meet someone, but he had a good mixture of being able to take the piss out of me, take it back, and be self-deprecating, so I thought we would have good chemistry. 

We met at Wood Green tube station (because I basically only go on dates near where I live) and I was super hungry so we went to Nandos. I did fancy him and within about 15 minutes he had already told me I wasn’t funny, which is probably the hottest thing someone could say to me. I did a podcast interview earlier this year where I talked about this. 

I ordered chicken wings, with two sides, plus halloumi, and avocado, but he’d already had dinner, so only got mango ice cream, and it tasted fucking weird. He agreed it was weird and left a bit. I told him he had to finish it all because I’d fucking paid for it and he did. Because power games are fun.

We were chatting so much that eventually someone came over and said ‘we closed 45 minutes ago’. So where else better to go than the craziness that is the Jolly Anglers pub?

This was a slightly bad decision on my part, as that’s where me and ice skating guy went a couple of times, including on our first date, and it forced to me think of him, and I got a little nostalgic. But it was probably good to get it over with, after all it’s my date place, not our place. I was conscious not to sit in any of the places we had sat together, but I couldn’t resist the urge to sing karaoke again.

I decided to sing Kate Nash Foundations because it’s a great song, and she’s the only person in the world I can do a good impression of. (No more Jennifer Paige, I’ve been burned before). This random drunk guy kept trying to dance with me while I was singing, which meant I spent most of the song trying not to laugh, but did manage to aptly point to him while singing the line ‘oh dear god I hope I’m not stuck with this one’.

Jack seemed to think it was funny and later told me he regretted not singing a song himself. (And that he would have sung Let me Entertain You by Robbie Williams, to which I replied that he also had a song called No Regrets).

We kissed in the pub, and talked a bit about kinky sex, and I remember being quite turned on. He asked to come home with me but I said ‘no’. So he walked me to my door, and after he left me we texted for a bit before going to sleep. On the way home he had mentioned something about going on other dates/dating lots of people, which I thought was a bit odd at the time (surely you don’t need to declare that on the first date). But now I know why he thought that was relevant.

A few days later he text me saying he enjoyed meeting me, but it just got ‘serious’ with someone he’s been dating for a while, so we couldn’t have our second date. I’m not sure why guys tend to use the word ‘serious’ when it comes to dating. What an unsexy word. 

He said he still wants to come to my pub quiz, and then I made an inappropriate shit joke about coming/cumming. We ended the conversation with him sending me pig emojis which was kinda sweet, because I told him before they were the only ones I really like.

🐽🐽🐽🐽

I wonder if he’ll ever come to my quiz (doubtful) or if I’ll get a text from him in the future when he’s single again (possible).

It’s a shame that I didn’t just fuck him that night, as I think it would have been a lot of fun, even if it was just a one off. I probably would have done it if he’d said ‘look I’m about to get into a monogamous relationship, this is your only fucking chance’. But hey, no regrets, right?

Featured road image by Teddy Kelley on Unsplash

 

It’s just a little crush

Crush

(noun)

A strong but temporary feeling of liking someone

(verb)

To upset or shock someone

To defeat someone completely

* * *

Our first date was the best date I’ve ever had.

We went ice skating at Ally Pally ice rink. We got there too early, so walked around the gardens first. I fancied him as soon as I saw him, and I could tell he fancied me too. We were flirting like schoolkids – playful, and teasing, and physical. We held hands on the ice, and at one point I fell onto my knees in front of him and told him I was ‘just practicing’ in a provocative way.

He kept trying to push me into the wall, and one of the times he decided to stop me from going too fast into it at the last second. That part of the wall turned out to be a door, so I would have fallen straight through it and out of the ice rink. He joked for the next few months about how the date would have been even better if only he’d actually pushed me through that door. I agree – it would have been hilarious (you know, as long as I didn’t have to go to A&E afterwards).

After ice skating we went to the Jolly Angler pub for drinks and there was karaoke on. We had our first kiss to someone’s bad version of ‘Hallelujah’ and I was happy to discover he was a great kisser. I decided to sing the classic 90s one hit wonder ‘Crush’ by Jennifer Paige and he took a video of me singing on his phone. I probably knew even then that singing it was ‘just a little crush’ was a case of the lady doth protest too much, that I would end up quite liking him, and that would be my downfall.

After karaoke, we got takeaway, and he came home with me, (we didn’t have sex), we just watched Peep Show and stayed up until 6am talking. It was exciting getting to know someone new.

He was funny, and smart, and sexually open minded, we got along well, and played chess (which he usually won), and I could be myself with him and I enjoyed us spending time together. He remembered which days I was doing certain things, like hosting my quiz, and would text me to ask how it was. We went for bagels on Brick Lane, he bought me presents for my birthday, we played pool, he poured milk on me in my shower in a kinky way, he came to watch my blog reading and my stand-up gig, and I fucked him with my strap-on. Great sex and awesome date activities. It was exactly what I wanted.

I waited for him for 6 weeks because he went travelling to Madagascar and then away to his sister’s prom.

On our next date, we went for dinner, and then had amazing sex where I tied him to my bed and dripped hot candle wax on him. (He said he’d never seen me look so happy). He had a very high pain threshold and I found that so sexy about him.

It’s so precarious at the beginning. I feel as though you are skating on thin ice, making sure they don’t think you like them too much because they’ll get scared and run away. My problem is I’m not very good at holding back or playing it cool. So when he started not texting me as much, instead of chilling out and letting him come to me, I started texting even more and went a bit overboard with it.

On our last date, we went to Ally Pally Summer Festival. I had a bit of a go at him for not texting me that much that week and he said he would text me more. Everything seemed fine and he introduced me to some of his friends. He text me later that night, but then after that went a bit AWOL again. I didn’t really understand what was happening, but we eventually met for lunch today and he explained.

That day, I’d asked him if he’d spoken to his ex-girlfriend recently, because I knew he’d been there with her the year before and it was on my mind, and he said that made him realise that we were getting ‘serious’ and he got scared. I suddenly realised when he told me this that he’s not totally over her, and maybe didn’t take enough time to process what happened between them before meeting me. It seems like he repressed those feelings and hasn’t dealt with them fully yet. I also think that sometimes even if a man likes you he can get freaked out if you come on too strong and/ or he’s not in the right head space for a relationship. 

Today was weird. It didn’t feel like a break up in the traditional sense because he was saying things you wouldn’t normally say like ‘I really like you’, and still being a bit flirty. He also said conflicting things. When I asked him what he wanted it sounded like he wants the same things I do (play chess, have sex, and go out sometimes). But he said he thinks I want something more, and he can’t give me that right now. Then the next minute he said he doesn’t know what he wants. Then he made a joke about meeting up in a year and going ice skating. Then he said he had a really fun day with me at the Summer Festival. WHAT A HEAD FUCK.

I wish I hadn’t been so needy, and put so much energy into wanting him to like me, and I wish I hadn’t asked him about his ex, but it’s hard to know whether it would have made a difference or not. Perhaps we just met at the wrong time. It’s so frustrating when you meet someone you have great chemistry with and so much fun with, and you can tell that they were really into you at the start, but now they don’t want to continue seeing you. I feel sad, and angry, and rejected, and deceived, and disappointed, and confused all at once. I could probably spend hours thinking about what I could have done differently but I’m going to try not to torture myself about it too much.

I wanted to say to him thank you for all the good times we had together, for the best first date ever, for coming to my shows with me, for the milk, and the candle wax, and of course, the pegging.

But I couldn’t find the words to say all this, so I just said bye and we hugged and I watched him walk away, turning round once to look back at me, like a fucking tease. Talk about mixed messages.

Towards the end of the conversation, I told him I’m going to give him some space for him to miss me, and perhaps we can text each other in a month or so and see where we’re at. Maybe I will have met someone else by then, maybe I’ll have forgotten about him, or maybe we’ll meet up again, and play chess and go ice skating, and I’ll push him through that door. I don’t know what the future holds, but for now I’ll just have to focus on being creative, and doing stuff for me, after I’ve listened to Jennifer Paige…

 

Dreams Can Come True

Until recently, the last time I received anal sex was in 2012. A one point I thought there was something wrong with my anus from having too much anal, so I stopped because of that (turns out it’s fine), but it was mainly because I started to realise the double standards around anal, and how some men were expecting us to be willing to be fucked in the arse, when some of them would freak out if you even tried to put a finger in there. So I made a rule not to let a guy fuck me in the anally, unless he was willing to let me fuck him anally. I still allowed fingers and thumbs (and some anal beads one time), but for 5 years no dick crossed the threshold.

I bought a strap on because it was my dream to peg a guy, but the only time it ever got used was when I had sex with women. One day in early 2014, a guy I had fucked a couple of times asked me to use it on him, but I wasn’t mentally prepared for it, and we hadn’t had sex for a while, so I said ‘just fuck me first and then maybe we can do that after’. Sadly that time he came really quickly, left, and I never saw him again. I regretted not doing it for ages. But maybe it wasn’t meant to be with him. After all, your first time is supposed to be special.

I’ve heard the line that a lot of straight men don’t want something in there because they think it’s a bit ‘gay’, but that’s bullshit. Also, have you ever heard a straight woman say they don’t want to receive oral sex because ‘that’s what lesbians do’?! No, of course not.  The irony of men wanting to fuck women in the arse and not wanting it in return is that men have actually got a g-spot up in there and WE DON’T. One of my female friends recently received anal for the first time from her male partner and afterwards when she said it was just ‘ok’ he said ‘but don’t you have a prostate up there?’ 

HEAD DESK.

I blame mainstream porn.

Anyway, I enforced my rule very well, until my crazy sex night in March, then in April I started dating a guy from Tinder. We had sex on the third date (I know I said I was going to wait to get to know someone more first, but I wanted to fuck him too much to wait any longer). He put his finger inside my arsehole,  and the next time I put my finger in his. I asked him whether he would let me fuck him with my strap-on, and he said ‘probably’, and I thought he might, because he seemed very sexually open minded, but I wasn’t totally sure. But on the 5th date, I was super horny, so I fucked the rules again, and told him he could do it to me.

I know some women, who have said that anal can feel quite good – perhaps their vaginal wall is quite thin, so it’s more easily stimulated, but some others do just find it uncomfortable. For me, I quite enjoy the fact that it hurts, and that it’s causing me pain while giving them pleasure. It was nice that he fingered me for a while first and used lots of lube though, which meant the pain wasn’t overwhelming, like it has been in the past sometimes when guys just stick it in.

On the 6th date, he came to one of my gigs (I did my anal sex joke about the double standards), and then when we got home I asked if he really was going to let me do it to him. He said ‘What now? Ok.’ and having learnt my lesson from my last missed opportunity, I did not waste any time in getting out some lube and starting to finger him.

I sucked his cock while putting my fingers inside and eventually worked my way up to four fingers. My strap-on is quite thick, so he definitely needed this. I had previously searched online for good positions for pegging, so decided to try some of these out. One of them was him lying face down (which I particularly enjoyed because I could pull his hair while doing this), and the other was me sitting on the edge of the bed while he backed onto me.

We did briefly try him lying on his back with me on top but he found it too painful, which is a shame, as I wanted to be able to look him in the eyes while fucking him. I didn’t do doggy style, as a man in that position doesn’t really appeal to me – I like my men to be submissive, but not that submissive. But I would have liked to try some other positions, maybe lying on our sides or standing up against a wall, or fucking him over a table while pushing his head into a container of water. You know, all the classics. 

I found it quite difficult to fuck him and stimulate his dick at the same time, and I definitely think he enjoyed the fingering and blow job more than the actual pegging, (enjoying the foreplay more than the penetration – welcome to our world), but obviously it was my first time doing it to a guy, so there is still lots to learn. The best thing about it was that he trusted me enough to let me do it to him, and was willing to let me live out a fantasy. 

Obviously the main difference between a woman fucking a guy with a strap-on and a man fucking a women’s arsehole, is that the strap on is not part of me, so I am not getting the same physical enjoyment. My strap-on can vibrate, but this was not close enough to my clit for me to feel the effect from it. So for me, fucking a guy like this is more of a mental turn onIt did make me feel powerful, and happy that even though I had let him do it first, technically I hadn’t broken my rule again.

In my joke, I say that it’s my dream to do it while listening to the Spice Girls, because that’s true Girl Power, then I say I’m only joking – I’d do it to Blurred Lines, as that would be more appropriate. But there wasn’t really a right moment to stop and open up Spotify to put on my pre-prepared Spice Girls/Blurred Lines playlist. I also think it would be fun to dress up while doing it, in heels and my dominatrix style dress. Maybe next time I can do all this. Hopefully I will get to do it again in the future, whether that’s with him or with someone else.

So in the words of Gabrielle, dreams can come true, and yes, it’s not always when or exactly how you expect them to, but I’m glad I have finally found a guy not constrained by gender norms and expectations, and not afraid to try something new…

 

 

 

 

Living in the moment

I’m addicted to my phone. I have it with me all the time. I check it probably hundreds of times a day. I spend hours messaging people and hours on social media. It runs my life. Phone addiction is a real thing, and I’m sure there are people reading this that have the same problem. It’s widely known now that when you check your phone and you have a notification, it increases your dopamine levels, and that’s why we keep doing it.

I feel more and more that smart phones have ruined my attention span and ability to focus. Sometimes I will be listening to a podcast or watching a TV show, and I will still check Twitter or be Whatsapping someone at the same time. It’s distracting, time wasting, and bad for your health. I often have days where I think what did I actually do today? And the answer is just play on my phone.

At the weekend I went away to Suffolk for a friend’s wedding. I didn’t know there was going to be a beach nearby so that was a nice surprise, as I fucking love beaches. (Not packing a bikini did not stop me, as I can swim just as mediocrely in a vest top and shorts). There was no signal at all on the beach, and it made my beach experience so much better.  I did take some pictures but that only took a few minutes.

DSC_0715

The rest of the time, I wrote my morning pages and then I swam for ages because there was literally nothing else for me to do. It was a great spontaneous artist’s date, that I could just enjoy for what it was without mindlessly scrolling my Facebook news feed.

On the walk back to the B&B I got signal, (this was handy to check I was walking in the right direction because I’d got a lift on the way there), but the walk took longer than it was meant to, as I kept checking my phone. I did have to send one message about arrangements for getting to the church later, but the others could have waited. I also accidentally sat on a stinging nettle when I stopped to do stuff on my phone, so I guess that was the universe’s way of telling me to get off my fucking phone. Having said that, I discovered that I actually quite like the feeling of stinging nettles, and could totally incorporate this into some kinky outdoor sex in the future.

Recently I have been trying to put my phone on flight mode when I want to get stuff done, but I still find that 5 minutes later I will just take the phone off flight mode. Today I really wanted to try and break this habit, so I intentionally went out without my phone for probably the first time in about 16 years.

And again, without being able to use my phone, I had an awesome time. I took some bags to the recycling centre, then walked to Ally Pally park. With no phone to distract me, I noticed my surroundings more. I looked at the clouds. I watched a bee pollinate every flower in sight, and enjoyed the feeling of the grass under my skin and bare feet.

It was a little frustrating not being able to take any photos, but I soon got over it. I wrote a few poems in my notebook and appreciated  just being in the park. I wished I’d taken my hula hoop, so maybe I will do that in future. I had no idea what time it was, because I haven’t worn a watch since circa 2004, but there was something really lovely about this. Eventually I realised I was going to get hungry soon and needed to get some dinner. So next time I will take food too.

Being in the shops was another challenge, as I didn’t have anything to occupy myself while queuing, but it was actually okay. I channelled my inner 90s gal and it worked. I feel like we were all so much more patient back then. Because you had to be. You had to wait for so long for everything. Music, TV Shows, Movies, Dial Up Internet.

You had to actually phone someone on a landline if you wanted to talk to them. And sometimes they weren’t in.  If you wanted to skip a song, you had to fast forward and then guess when to stop it. And then maybe sometimes you went too far and you had to rewind. When you stopped that cassette tape in just the right place, that was a satisfying moment. We don’t have moments like these anymore. Everything is at our fingertips, which is why we get so impatient if someone doesn’t text back straight away or our WiFi stops working. But maybe we should learn some of the patience we had back then.

When I got home, I resisted the urge to check my phone, and put my food in the fridge first. Then I went on my phone and immediately lost 10 minutes of my life to Twitter, so now it’s on flight mode, and has been for the last three hours. Go self control. I’m definitely going to try and go out without my phone more often, and hopefully this will train my brain not to check it all the time when I do have it with me. Because I don’t want to look back on my life and realise I wasted half of it staring at a little screen.

Smartphones are great, and social media is great –  I wouldn’t have so many people reading my blog without it. But like everything in life – they need to be consumed in moderation.