Journeys, cont. – Needs

I recognize in myself a need to be able to contain things (things being a euphemism for the discomfort of this anxiety/emotional turmoil/upheaval) in boxes, so that I can manage and deal with them in small pieces. I also recognize this is not always conducive to allowing situations to happen and grow organically, which is, in essence, unfair to the other persons involved.  I am trying to balance my need to know, and thus have things in a “box” that allows me to deal with my emotions better, with reality, their/his desire to allow things to happen as they will, and with my desire not to be controlling.  I don’t know if I am succeeding.

I said to W the other day that I needed to know what and when. Not details of the what, but what’s on the table, what is in the realm of happening and when it might be happening. This is not an effort to control him and his actions – I don’t mean to say that I want to decide if it can be only play or sex is on or off the table – I just want to be able to prepare myself for whatever it is, and I need a little bit of time to do so.  Just as his initial response is always “no” when asked about doing something, which he then may moderate as he has time to think about it, my initial response to these situations is always a knee-jerk one before I can bring myself around to being okay with it.  Also, it makes me feel as though things are being kept from me if I find out later that what I thought was A turned out to be A, B , C & D, and even more so if it was planned in advance and I was not informed. Yes, I’ll get over it, as I am aware that sometimes things happen (and I do not want to destroy all spontaneity) but my need to know what’s going on is very very high, and is important to me finding ways to cope.

Being blindsided – even unintentionally – means that I have to deal with additional negative emotions before I can even begin to address the reality of the situation.

I have two examples of this. The first happened with Ad and a girl I introduced him to (yeah it seems I am always trying to pimp my guys out.) But she had so many of his interests that I don’t share, and I liked her a lot, so it seemed a natural thing to do a little matchmaking.  They hit it off splendidly, and I really was very happy for them both. They had a date or two, but, as far as I knew, the relationship had not progressed into the sexual realm. I fully expected – and wanted – it to, but I also expected that I would know when/if that was a possibility. He is not one to jump into a sexual encounter, so I knew that if and when he decided to go there with her, it would have some meaning, and that he would let me know when things were moving beyond casual friendship.

Then one night while we were out together he casually mentioned that on their second date (almost 2 weeks previous to him mentioning it) he had bent her over, hiked her dress up, and had sex with her.  I felt betrayed and as though things had been kept from me.

I lost it. Really, really lost it.

The other time was with W. We stay in pretty much constant on-and-off contact via email throughout the day. I don’t like phones and he doesn’t text, so that is our primary mode of communication. One day, with no warning or explanation, he stopped emailing at about noon, and I didn’t hear a word from him until the next day. I was beside myself…especially when I found out the reason was that he had had someone over and they had played. I had no idea who this girl was, nor any idea that he was even thinking about playing with her. He simply stopped communicating with me at all – out of “politeness” to her.  On top of that, little extra details, such as the fact that she had stayed the night, and that he had spent a good portion of the next morning/afternoon with her, kept coming out, but not in a forthright manner.

Again, I felt deceived, blindsided, kept in the dark, and I lost it.

Both Ad and I and W and I wended our way through those difficult situations. I realized that being able to live with a situation in my head for a bit is essential to me being able to manage my negative emotions and eventually find some equanimity. Neither of the things that happened were things that I didn’t want to happen, but I need to know that’s where things are going/what’s happening so that I have time to work through my feelings.

I am almost obsessive about letting the guys know the where and what of any new spark or flirtation that comes along. If it has even a possibility of being something, I share what that something might be with them. Neither of them seems to have a need for that information, but I suppose, since I do, I always assume others do. I don’t want to blindside either of them.

I was blindsided last night. It wasn’t actually that big of a deal, and, in reality, was far closer to what I would have wanted to do in her situation than what I was under the impression was going to happen.  But I was never informed that what did happen was part of the plan, and so what I thought was going to happen was not what they had, between the three of them, planned to do.  This morning I realized that tonight – what I had thought of as their play date – is still that.  Nothing about today has changed. But last night, when I thought I was doing so well, only to feel blindsided by finding out that they had had entirely different plans than I had in my head, was really really bad. I still feel anxious and queasy. Roughly two hours sleep will do that to a person.

The worst part of all this is that when their date was over, W wrote me an amazing, wonderful, perfect email. I reallly thought – damn, this is going to work! I can do this, we can do this, I can react well and be emotionally healthy.  I felt so good about myself, about him, about us.  But all my joy in that was crushed under the weight of the negative emotions that having been kept in the dark (as I felt) engendered.

I know that he didn’t deliberately keep me in the dark – or rather he did, because he thought that when I said I didn’t want details, I meant I didn’t want to know whether or not they were going to play both nights. And it really doesn’t make that big of a difference, now that I have had time to process. As I said, if it had been me, I might have wished for the same set-up (an “intro” play session to determine if they both wanted to go forward with the “main event” the next night.) So yeah, given some time I am able to see the logic in it and even approve of it. But I had things in this box, and the box was that they would either meet for “just talk” Monday and then, if all went well, play Tuesday, or else they would meet Monday and hit it off and play Monday night – and that would be the end of it. I wouldn’t have to deal with anything else.  I could handle that, and was handling it. I had some anxiety, but I was in a good place, especially after reading W’s email.

And so I reacted. Not horrendously, I thought, but not in a positive way.

None of all this negates or invalidates what W said in his email. And tonight is still the same as I had expected. But it all feels raw, and as though I am having to slog through all this negative emotion again. I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally, and I know that my knee-jerk reaction probably spoiled W’s enthusiasm and pleasure.  Pleasure and enthusiasm in our relationship.  I can only imagine how disappointed in me he is.

I suck, the day sucks, I am shitty at this and can’t seem to help but fuck everything up.

I really don’t know where to go from here.

Journeys – Where I’m At

I had this rather longish post that I was working on, talking about the learning process I am going through, as I discover and assess what I need to be comfortable in what we are doing. And I realized…I just probably won’t ever really get there: comfort. Ease. There isn’t going to be some moment when I suddenly go, “Hey! Cool, it’s all fun, I feel great about it!”

It sucks to be me.

I am more comfortable now than I was. I have been able to put this in a compartment inside my head, and I will be able to deal with it. I know that this doesn’t change anything about W and I, it doesn’t mean anything about his and my relationship, who were are to each other, what we do with each other. I’ve got my head around it.

But…it still makes me unhappy and uncomfortable. So obviously I haven’t got my heart around it.

But oh well…unhappiness and discomfort are only temporary emotions. I’ll be happy again, and comfortable again. And being unhappy and uncomfortable about one aspect of this doesn’t mean I am the big “Unhappy.” Just…right now…it sucks.

I’d like to write more, but just don’t have the energy. W and I had a really good discussion the other night. It wasn’t an easy discussion, but it was an important one, and if for no other reason than that this event precipitated and caused that discussion, I am glad that it’s happening. But as I said, I don’t have the energy to write much now.

W has his first meet with her tonight. I have no idea if they are planning to play after or schedule their play date for another night or more than one night.  One thing I did decide I needed was not to be there. Not for any of it. The three of them (W, her, her Owner) seem comfortable enough without me involved, and I just couldn’t deal with the thought of being a third wheel. That would be too close to being invisible and ignored, and I have my issues with that.  So, tonight I have a massage and when I get home I’ll work on a bead project and maybe plant one of my flower boxes.

One thing that didn’t happen that I really needed before he sees her this week was that I wanted an intense play session with him. I needed to connect with him on that level, I needed him to play with me like he will with her. And even more than the actual playing, I needed to know that he wanted to play with me like that. He told me he did, but, well, I needed to feel it to know it.

It didn’t happen.  But look! I’m surviving.  ~shrug~

I am going to be fine, I am managing my emotions, and we are both growing lots in all this. So – end result will be a positive one.  But for now, I just wish I could sleep through the next three or four days.

 

Journeys, continued – Perceptions

I apologize in advance for anyone seeing this twice.  Yesterday, when I wrote this, was a high emotion day for me – as W calls it, a day of “free-floating” anxiety. I realized after I had initially posted this that much of what I was feeling was colored by that, and possibly distorted, so I wanted a chance to talk to W about these ideas first. One relationship-communication commitment W and I have made to each other is to never blindside the other, and I did not want to blindside him with a whole lot of emotional noise that may or may not have been based in reality. 

We talked, and today I am in a much more stable emotional space. He never denies me the right to my feelings, or says that they are wrong – instead, hearing his perspective on them allows me to be more objective and to see where my own “flotsam and jetsam” may be getting in the way of clear thinking.

Also, simply being allowed to go through this process with his support and love, even when it’s difficult for him, means the world to me.  This is a journey and a process that I choose to make, and he supports me 100% in it.

Today is a new day, a better day. I know I’ll get through this and be a better person for it on the other side.

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So I had already had this working in my brain, as I have been working through these feelings/emotions that this new situation has generated, trying to sort out the flotsam from the jetsam, as it were; then I read Magenta’s comment, and several things became clear; or at least clear enough to muse about here, in this space, as opposed to just in my head, where I often mull things over for quite awhile before committing them to paper.

I want to preface the following with a disclaimer: these are my perceptions, and we all view things through the tinted, sometimes grimy lenses of our own experiences, hopes, dreams, fears and insecurities.  So although I put this all down here as though I have it all thought out, even as I write and re-read I am coming to a better understanding of what’s going on in my head and finding an understanding and acceptance of the situation that I hadn’t had before I started.

One of the things is this difference in what W and I get out of playing and what we want out of it, and of how playing with someone new fits into that. It’s a perception difference both in our understanding of the scenes themselves, and also in how those kinds of scenes will ultimately affect us (he and I) as play partners.

Early on W told me that, for him, playing with someone familiar means you lose something: an edge, that you have when you play with someone unknown to you. We have discussed this often, and, to some degree, I agree. There is danger – and thus, if you get off on that danger, excitement – in exploring an unknown someone. When that person becomes familiar to you, you lose that edge.

And, perhaps, the excitement as well.

Secondarily to that is something else he has said many times: that once you get to care for someone, you can’t do the intense kinds of play (or be as brutal, or as hard, or as humiliating or whatever) to that person, because they become more than just an object or something to play with – they become a person that you care about.  In addition to that, his level of comfort in those kinds of play – the sometimes emotionally risky play – goes down the more he feels is at risk: ie, because he is in relationship with someone, he has more to lose if something were to go wrong, so he is less willing to take that risk than he might with someone that he didn’t have an emotional connection to.  If something doesn’t work or goes bad in that situation (as they occasionally do, that’s why it is edgy, risky play) then you talk it over, deal with it, and go on your way. If you scene together again, great, if not, no big deal. But if the same thing happens to someone that you have a relationship with, or so his reasoning goes, it could destroy the relationship. Then he hasn’t just lost a play partner, but a lover, partner and friend.

Both of these things are absolutely counter to my perceptions of play and how it works from an emotional standpoint for me. I can understand both points, but they aren’t my reality, and it seems so limiting to me that at times I have a hard time understanding how he can be so attached to this way of thinking.

And sometimes, I feel like he is creating a self-fulfilling prophesy.

As I explained to Magenta, it is not that I don’t enjoy exploring,  discovering and experiencing new things. But it is the things that we are doing that are frightening/thrilling/exciting. The excitement is not that I am doing these things with someone new. In fact, experiencing a new kind of play with a stranger adds an extra layer of complexity and anxiety that takes away from whatever-it-is we are doing.  It diminishes my ability to be in the moment, sharing this exciting fun scary new thing with a person that I trust deeply and that I have a connection to. Having that connection allows me the freedom to explore and experience without reservation, because I don’t have to worry about him, what his skill level is, if he can read me well enough to know when enough is enough or when to push just that much farther, etc. I can just give myself over and be in the moment – I can stop thinking, analyzing, questioning and just be.  To use one of W’s analogies, it is like dancing with someone who you have danced with many times: you are in sync, moving together as one – connected. And when he decides to lead you into a new dance step, you follow, willingly and without fear that he is going to trip you or make you fall on your ass.

It is that connection I seek.  It is the feeling of exploring something that touches me deeply, with fear, or trepidation, or disgust or curiosity, that digs deep into me and turns me inside out, with someone I trust to take me there, to guide me, and to be there for me in the end. I could never, ever go the places I have gone with W if he had not earned my trust, admiration and respect the way he has.  Sure, he scared me when we first played, and in it’s way that was exciting…but this, this that we do has a lasting satisfaction that that first never could. That first scene was…the surface.  Anyone could do that. No one else can do what has come in the time since.

I can’t speak for W, but I intuit that, although he and I do have that connection and he appreciates it, in some ways what he is seeking is the exact opposite of that when he says he enjoys playing with someone knew. He enjoys not knowing her, not knowing what she’ll do, where she’ll go. It’s exciting trying to figure out what will make that person tick.  Kind of like a new conquest, you know?

So yeah, I get what he gets out of it. I really truly do.

But…to extrapolate further…(and because there is that second point, which, when added into the mix adds an entirely new layer to it)…if dancing with that new, exciting plaything is so exciting…then dancing with me…same old familiar me…is boring. I’m the old dance partner whose moves he knows (yawn.)

In my world, that would mean we discover new things together, dig deeper, go deeper in this connection, because this connection allows us to. Learn a new dance, right? Shake things up by throwing her up in the air when she’s expecting a dip…or, well, whatever dancing people do (obviously I don’t do much dancing.) But in his…well, in his, if caring for someone means he can’t take her to those places, he can’t do those things to her, can’t go deep, then…yes. I imagine she gets stale and old and uninteresting. The foxtrot would get pretty old after awhile.

I don’t believe it has to be that way. I want to go all those places with him, I want him to take me there. I don’t anyone else to, as a matter of fact. But if he can’t, or won’t…then what am I left with? If he truly believes that he can’t go there with me because he loves me, and in that belief, won’t go there, then is he right. He has made himself right.  (Self-fulfilling prophecy, natch?) If he could, if he would, then maybe I wouldn’t care so much about his need for the excitement of a new plaything. She’s something fun, but she’s not me. I know he isn’t going to stop loving me. This isn’t about fear of losing him.  This is about me getting my needs met, and him seeing me as a) someone who’s needs he can meet (because no matter what I say, he believes that even if I don’t admit it, I truly do want to play with the scary new just like he does); and b) as someone who he is willing to go there with.

I wanted him to love me so that I could allow him to do all these wonderful, fucked up things he wants to do to me. He loves me now and so he doesn’t want to, or can’t.

It’s a catch-22.

And that is why seeing him play with her – doing all those things that he used to do to me, but that he won’t do to me anymore – is something I just don’t think I can handle.

Edit: As I re-read this, I really do see the difference between what he and I have – our connection – and what he would do with a one-off or casual play partner. I really am okay with that, because I do know how deep it goes between us. I just think, what I need, is for him to find a way to feel okay with doing those things to me again, too.  It won’t feel the same – all new and sparkly and exciting – to him, but I’m okay with that. He can get his “new scary exciting” fix with someone else.  As long as he’s still willing to take me to the places I need to go as well. As long as he’s willing to stretch himself a bit – and maybe ride a different edge, take a bigger risk (in his mind), by taking me there, too.

Journeys

Jealousy, envy, insecurity, possessiveness, fear – these are topics that are discussed, analyzed, questioned, struggled with and pondered over by people that identify as poly/open in their relationship structures. Some feel it, some don’t. Some deal with it effectively; some can’t. Many, many of us struggle with it.

Including me.

I won’t be held hostage by my own insecurities, by jealousy and fear and envy. I won’t.  But damn it’s hard sometimes.

In the next week or so, an event is going to take place that will probably (probably? It already has) engender some of these feelings and reactions in me. It’s an event that I precipitated, that I set into motion, knowing that it would have emotional repercussions for me.  Knowing that I would struggle with it, agonize over it, probably lose sleep over it.  But I won’t let those feelings win. I will work my way through them, and I will persevere.  And I’ve decided to blog about it as it happens. Because I want people to see that those negative feelings can be overcome. Or at least dealt with in a non-destructive manner.

…I hope.  Because this shit ain’t easy.  I could crash and burn. It’s happened before.

A lot of this isn’t going to paint me in a good light. These feelings are often ugly and usually painful.  But I hope, by writing about them, that I can diminish their power over me. And maybe…help someone else deal with them too.

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It started with an email sent out on Fetlife by someone visiting our town for a few days. Did anyone know of anything happening locally, any places to go, etc. while she was in town.  I perused her profile and saw that it appeared that her relationship with her Sir was similar to mine with W – open, with the D/s primarily centered on her sexuality. She is close to our age, attractive (at least from behind, there were no face pics posted), and seemed to be fairly normal.  You know, for a kinky person. ;-)

So…I decided to write to her.  About W. About playing with W.  Yeah, I pimped my man out.

As you all know, I’ve been physically debilitated recently. Not as bad as I had feared – W has been very good at making me see I am not completely useless, and some play can be had. But…nothing like he and I are used to.  Also, I know how much he enjoys playing with someone new.  I think it may be his favorite thing in kink, in fact, and he hasn’t had a chance to do so in quite awhile – sometimes, I suspect, because he is concerned about my reaction if he does seek out someone else. Or maybe the right opportunity just hasn’t come along.  In any case…this seemed like it might be a good opportunity.

She and her Sir apparently thought so too, and now…well, next week we are meeting her for dinner or a drink and then…if all goes well, she and W are going to go to his place and play. And it’s all because I emailed her.  He would never have done so on his own.

And of course I am conflicted.

I was perfectly fine up until yesterday morning. Or rather, fine in principal, but wrestling with the question of whether or not I wanted to be there when he plays with her. That is still up in the air, and frankly, I don’t know. I have a really hard time watching him play with others. When I am there but not an active participant I feel:

  • Left out, abandoned, invisible, unimportant
  • Jealous of what he’s doing or how he’s doing it (why doesn’t he do that to me, why hasn’t he done that to me??  Also: is he liking her reactions better, does he like her body better? But mostly those first two.)
  • Concerned about what he’s doing. Is he hurting her too much? Is she enjoying it? How can he tell if he’s gone too far? Will she hate him when it’s over? I have a really hard time watching others in pain and accepting that they are okay with it (I know, freaking weird, since I do, right?) But there you are.  I also have this bizarre notion that no one but me can really like all the horrific things he does.  Also a weirdness, I know.
  • Sad because it makes me realize that I can never ever be what he really truly wants: someone new. Someone fresh. The thrill and danger of playing with a brand new person. I can never ever be that again for him.

These insecurities are at the root of my fears. I don’t know how to combat them, how to turn those tapes off in my head.

But I’m trying.

To my credit, there is a less selfish reason for not wanting to be there. W knows all these things I feel – I’m no good at keeping my feelings to myself, unfortunately – and I am afraid if I am there it will make him self-conscious, afraid to do things for the very reasons stated above, or he may not enjoy himself because he is worrying about my reactions. So really, I’d probably be doing us all a favor if I wasn’t there.

I so wish I was a different person. I wish I was him, and could get off on seeing him with another.

I wish I was a better person.

So why do I do this, if it causes this much angst? Because it is the right thing to do. I do not own W. I would never tell someone they do not have the right to seek their own joy, their own pleasure, their own happiness. I will not place limitations on either of them.

This has nothing to do with the fact that they allow me the same freedoms, by the way. It is not tit for tat. It is simply how I feel about relationship in general. I will not be one that places those kind of limitations on another. Monogamy doesn’t equal love, and frankly I see no value in it as a concept.

Also, I want him to be happy.  You see that thing up there? The thing I can’t give him, that I can’t be? I want him to have it. Even if I can’t be the one to give it to him. Yes…it hurts that I can’t be that…I want to be everything, dammit! But I can’t be.  I know that.

And that, too, is at the crux of my conflicted feelings.  I miss it, being that for him. Oh how I miss it. Reading his emails to her, those first forays into “getting to know” her, those first “flirtations,” if you will, is so, so hard. I am torn between being so very proud of him – he writes a damn good email – and acutely missing the feelings those kinds of emails generated. I miss those long, exploratory emails he used to send.  I miss him anticipating play, being excited about me, because I was “the new one.”  I still feel all that about play with him…because my pleasure in what we do isn’t in the danger or fear or anticipation of not knowing him, but in knowing him, and in knowing that when we come together, there is a depth of connection that allows me to explore in a way I never could with someone unknown. And, yes, I imagine he feels that too (and I should not discount the value he places in that aspect of our relationship), but…I know this, this newness, is what really excites him. He loves to play with me…but…as he has said so many times in the past, when you are familiar with someone, the edge is lost.  That’s not how I feel, it is quite the opposite for me in fact, but no amount of explaining how it works for me makes it work that way for him. Our libidos are not ours to command, they simply are.  And, for him, that is where the edges lie. In a place he cannot find with me.

But…I can give him the freedom to find it elsewhere.  That has to be enough.

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So. That’s where I am.  That’s where we are. I’ll keep you updated on where we go from here.

From the Drafts Folder: W’s Choice – Open Hand Slap

I recently sent a note over to W: “I have all these Draft posts and I am so overwhelmed, there is so much good in here but I don’t know where to start. Help?”

So he did, agreeing to assign me one Draft post at a time to work on (will probably end up being weekly-ish.) The fun part is that all he gets is the title, no context and no description, and he chooses which one base solely on that. This is the first one he assigned.

I’m not really sure how or where this essay came to my attention, and it doesn’t appear to be part of any larger body of journaling/blogging (if it’s yours and there is, please let me know) but after reading it I was inspired to create a Draft post with a few (minimal) notes…

  • BDSM as higher communication, as infusing sex with greater connection
  • Being able to communicate openly about the good and the bad in bdsm practice makes it a safe place to explore and learn about each other and to better fulfill each other’s desires in sex/bdsm and, ultimately in relationship
  • Being able to listen/accept/discuss criticism (or simply re: commentary on)  technique, what works, etc. is the mark of a good Top, not a weakness/not topping from the bottom

I’m not really sure I understand a lot of what the author was saying in the original essay; much of the language is esoteric and difficult to decipher (to me, others are probably smarter than I.) And I am not sure where exactly I was going with my notes, either, but I know what this inspires in me to write about now, so that’s what we’ll have to go with.

I think a lot about communication. As the cliche goes, “Communication, communication, communication…” Ultimately, however, it’s not a cliche, but the bald truth. If you cannot communicate with yourself honestly, you can’t hope to communicate with others effectively.  If you can’t find your way to communicating your needs, desires, feelings and fears to your other(s), then how can you hope to have a relationship that meets your needs?

In BDSM, as a bottom or submissive, if you aren’t communicating your needs with your D-type, then how can they know what is working and what isn’t? If relationship is the ultimate goal, then wanting both sides to have their needs met is essential, and most of the Tops that I have respect for acknowledge that.  Wanting to be sure that their submissive’s/bottom’s/property’s needs are met is not a service that are doing for the s-type, but a function of creating a relationship that will be strong and last.  Even in those relationships in which it seems to be all about the Top’s needs and wants being fulfilled to the seeming denial of the submissve’s, I would argue that, if the relationship is a long-lasting one or will be, the Top has ascertained that that dynamic does, indeed, fulfill their bottom’s needs, even if it seems that those needs are to have their needs subsumed and overridden by the Top’s.  At some point, communication had to occur to establish that fact, and, in fact needs to continue to occur.  What that communication looks like to an outsider, how that communication occurs, is entirely up to the participants themselves, but it has to occur in some fashion.

This communication does not equal “topping from the bottom” or any other such nonsense. As I said in this post (in not that exact phrase, but I believe my meaning was clear), a relationship requires communication on both sides.  Sure, you can have a “thou shalt not speak unless spoken to,” “Thou shalt never question thy Top” dynamic for a scene, or even longer, but eventually, if it’s going to last and be healthy, communication’s gotta happen.  And being open to that communication, even when it isn’t comfortable to hear, is the mark of a good Top (or anyone, really. It’s a marker for all good relationships, between friends, family, lovers, coworkers.)  And really, the bottom line on topping from the bottom is that manipulation of the scene or top on the part of the bottom is only possible if the Top allows it, either because he/she chooses to, or because he/she just doesn’t realize they’re being manipulated. In which case…well, I’m not too sympathetic to the Top. Own your own shit, yanno?

In our relationship, and in most that I would consider healthy BDSM dynamics, the bottom is required to communicate as honestly as possible, and not doing so is considered an abrogation of her responsibility in the relationship. Actually, for the most part, W doesn’t need to dictate that. I vomit at all out with little-to-no encouragement. But I know that he appreciates that I am open about my needs, because, ultimately, what his end goal is is to have a long, healthy relationship, and that can only happen if he knows how to craft that relationship, where to steer it, how to make it flourish.

That means that sometimes I say, “This isn’t working.” That means that I feel safe enough within our relationship to be able to say that. And it gives him the same sense of safety, as it does Ad, in terms of how our relationship works on a broader scale.

It also means that we are able to discover and explore places that we might not have had the courage to in other relationships. It makes our relationship better emotionally, but it also makes the sex hotter, because we know what works with the other. We know all the little nooks and crannies, or are willing to delve into them without fear of reprisal.  So in that way, yes, I believe that BDSM – because there is so much discussion and communication inherent in it to make it work –  does in fact make the sex better.  We do have a greater sense of connection, through the communication we share via BDSM.  That’s not to say that vanilla relationships don’t have that level of communication, just that mine, personally, did not. It was not until I entered this world that I was truly able to feel safe in communicating so completely, and in being communicated with. I crave their honesty (even the hard things) because it is then, when they do tell me those things, that I know they feel safe as well.  Knowing that I can provide that for my Guys, as they do me, is a wonderful feeling and what, in my opinion, relationship is all about.

To read the entire essay, go here: Open Hand Slap

Innies, Outties & Three-Ways

This post probably isn’t anything about what you think it is, considering the title – though things that go in and out and three-ways are delightful topics, and ones I think about often. (I know, you probably thought I was talking about belly buttons, didn’t you?)

But no, this post is about introverts (innies) and extroverts (outties.) And three-ways? Three-way relationships, not sex. (Tho three-way sex is often part of this particular three-way relationship.)

Where to start…  Maybe the beginning?

So. Once upon a time I was sick. And alone, and miserable. I was also probably dropping after a weekend of fun and bondage and play.  And because I was alone, and felt needy, and didn’t get the attention I wanted, I got my feelings hurt. And…I said so. The problem is, my timing sucked. W had his own emotional shit going on, and my shit collided with his shit and…well…shit hit the fan. And went everywhere. I couldn’t know how badly it sucked, I didn’t know that the person on whom I unloaded (W) would have the emotional reaction he did, and worst of all, I wouldn’t realize the impact it would have, or be able to address it, for several days, because of this whole “innie/outtie” thing.

It was a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Three really bad days, actually.

I don’t like this about myself, this neediness. Let me just stand up and say it: “Hi, my name is Jade, and I’m needy.”  I know, you’re not supposed to say that. Especially if you are an Evolved and Grown-Up Woman. I’m also going to admit something else that “strong” submissive-type women are probably going to look down their strong, independent noses at: I think that being submissive in my relationships heightens this neediness at times.  In particular, being submissive to W heightens my clinginess and neediness for him.  I am not needy in my “outside” world: with my family, workmates, or even, most times, with Ad. But I need W’s attention like a plant needs water; I wilt without it.  And when I am sick or dropping, when I feel most vulnerable, is when I am neediest.

But it is also when my own ability to think clearly is at its lowest, and when I might say things without my usual mindfulness, things that I realize (sometimes not until later) are hurtful. Like a hurt animal, feeling cornered by own careening emotions, I snap and snarl, when what I want and need most is a kind hand. (In my own defense, my “snapping and snarling” was the comment, “I can’t believe you were out here (by my house) and didn’t stop by. That hurts.”)

In this instance, what I said and what he heard were two vastly different things.

To my mind, being able to say that to him, to clearly say, “I am hurt by this,” was an act of bravery. Yes, I am very open in my communications. But I struggle with being open with my needs, when I feel that those needs might not be met. Being open with my neediness with W is a huge step forward for me, and is a mark of the trust I have in him and in our relationship. I have finally come to a place where I don’t think that he will reject me for it, where I am not afraid of rejection. Where I can be needy and know he still loves me.

Except that there’s still that little voice inside my head that is afraid of rejection.  That is absolutely convinced that this very vulnerability, this neediness, will cost me the relationships I value most in my life.  That one day the people I love will walk away because I need too much. Perhaps that is one reason that I crave BDSM play that brings me down to that level of vulnerability and neediness, because in play I am “safe.” I can be vulnerable there.  It is acceptable to be weak.  And afterward he holds me, with no recriminations for my weakness, and I know he still loves me: he shows me that he does, right then, right there. But if we are apart and I feel weak, feel needy, feel vulnerable, I am consumed by a kind of terror that this time he will say, “Enough!” and wash his hands of me.  Because outside of play space we are in the “real world,” and I know he wants (and admires) strong, capable women, not this needy one that I become at times.

But that is where this outtie and innie thing comes in.

I can’t not let him know what I am feeling.  I am not the strong silent type. I am not the type to hide away while I work through my emotions. I am not the type to be a good girl and keep it all inside. I spill it all, I vomit it out, I bleed out all over my sleeve.  That’s how  I process stuff.

(But also…if I am being completely honest with myself, I have to wonder if it (allowing him to see this in me) isn’t a kind of unconscious test. “Will he still love me?” Because somehow there is a part of me that doesn’t feel I deserve to be loved because I am So. Fucking. Needy. So I give him an out. And I say and do the very things that I assume will cause that exact thing to happen: he’ll go away, be disgusted, think I’m too damn difficult, too much effort. Self-fulfilling prophesy, anyone?)

And yet. The truth is, I am trying, honestly, to communicate my needs. I am both fearful of communicating them (and having them rejected, of being seen as weak and needy) and very aware that if I don’t communicate a) there is never a chance of having them met; and b) my head will explode.

Wait, wait…!  I meant to say that b) I need to get it out there, verbally or in writing, because that is how I process. I need to communicate. (Or my head will explode.)

I’m an outtie. I process externally. I need to get it out to make sense of it. Usually, that happens in this space or in writing of some sort, though, rather than in speaking directly of it. Asking for what I need is just too damn scary. (Or so it feels to me.  I am learning to do so – that is part of my own effort to grow emotionally – but it is hard.)

W’s an innie, though. He needs time and space to process, before he can talk about it. And that, at times, causes me emotional trauma and angst, especially last week. It was mostly just a result of bad timing, a sequence of events (both emotional and physical) that combined to create the “Perfect Storm,” and the added stress of that whole innie and outtie thing, but…damn, it was rough.

So we spent three days in hell, and are really just now, with lots of mutual love and support – and talking – recovering emotionally. It’s been a rough patch, but I think…in the end…that we will be better for it. I think we’ve made leaps and bounds in moving towards the middle in our communication styles, and in learning to understand each other’s styles.  I also think this will help us to avoid this sort of issue in the future.

And here’s where the three-way relationship comes into play. Ad made an interesting observation during all this. We have a V, with me being the “hinge.” As such, everything revolves, in some form or other, around me (yeah yeah, it appeals to my outsized need for attention, go figure.) That’s the upside. The downside is that when there is an emotionally weighty issue, I am also involved. If it’s my issue, of course; if it’s my issue with the Guys or theirs with me, of course; but also, if they have anything going on emotionally – this time the parts of W’s issue that weren’t with me, or Ad’s recent struggle with depression, for instance – I also get the brunt of it.

But I don’t have to bear it alone. When Ad was depressed and I was dealing with that, W was there, supporting, explaining, playing devil’s advocate, letting me vent or cry or just talk when I needed to. He was there for Ad, too, without ever having talked about the issue with him, because he constantly supported Ad to me, as well as supporting my own emotional needs. And visa versa in this whole thing with W. Ad was my rock, he held me when I cried myself to sleep, he let me vent and spew all my anxiety and fears, and he constantly supported W’s need for time and space, and encouraged me to be patient.

I talk all the time about the fun sexy aspects of three-way relationships. This episode really made me appreciate a different aspect of being in a three-way relationship, and for that (as sucky as it may have been) I am grateful.

Desire, or the Lack Thereof

If you’re a blogger or a writer, you probably have the same affliction that I do: bunches and bunches of half-written posts (or less than half-written, maybe even just a sentence, a snippet, a couple of words) just sitting there in your Drafts folder, waiting for you to actually write them. (At the moment I have 132 Draft posts, including the 3 renditions of this very post that you are reading.) This is both good and bad…I’ve got a lot of writing nuggets sitting there for inspiration; but on the other hand, the longer it gets since the time of the event/thought and the actual writing of it, the less…intense it is. It loses color, immediacy, authenticity.

Plus, I just plain forget shit.

For instance, I have a note about Ad fucking me in the ass while W lay next to us, sleeping. I recall that there was something oddly sweet and endearing about it, as well as just plain hot, but…more than that, I can’t recall. And I really had stuff to write about it (besides just the sex part.) I really wanted to share things about that incident…things that I have, sadly, forgotten. What exactly did I find important about it? Why did I think it warranted its own post?

We may never know.

Lately, as I mentioned, I have been also afflicted with an inability to write. Or a lack of desire. I’m not sure which. I am just not feeling it, yanno? I thought I’d give myself some time and space, and yes, that is necessary and acceptable at times. But then this morning, lying awake at 3am, I realized that it may not actually be an inability to write. “Lack of desire” comes closer to what I am feeling – and I realized that by recognizing that this depiction could describe how I am feeling in general, about everything.

It’s been a rough two weeks. Even with last weekend’s sexiness (yes, apparently two cocks can fit in one hole), these two weeks have been tumultuous emotionally and stressful professionally, and I feel like I’ve just…shut down in a way. I feel numb, all my lovely, usually-sparking-99%-of-the-time nerve endings deadened. I can barely force myself to pretend interest in anything at all right now, much less actually feel an interest.

Or maybe that’s just a reaction to things not being quite back to normal between W and I, as we try to return to normalcy after our recent issues.  I keep waiting for a sign from him that he’s feeling better…that things are back the way they were (ok, that he wants to tie me up and hurt me!) but he needs time/space for his own confidence and desire to return, too, so I don’t want to ask or push. I know he’ll be there again, we’ll get there again, but meanwhile, as I try to cope with my own feelings/still-raw emotions, I feel myself withdrawing, protecting myself. I don’t think I could take rejection at this point, even if it was only temporary, even knowing that it was just him needing that time/space, so I hold back, afraid to even want anything, much less suggest it.  In a way, I am stuck in limbo, waiting, curbing and cauterizing my own desire.

Is it any wonder I can’t seem to recall the urgency I originally felt in any of the writing topics in my Draft posts?

Boy, that’s a bunch of poor-little-me-whiney-ass shit, isn’t it?

I really hate to be that girl.

So I’m not going to be. There’s something written somewhere about smiling. Even if you are depressed, if you force yourself to smile–fake it if you have to–eventually, you actually feel happier. Some weird brain chemistry thing. (Wait, I found it! Smile! It Could Make You Happier. God, I love the internet.) Your brain thinks, because you are smiling, that you really must be happy, and it becomes the truth. Fake it til it’s true, right?  Or something like that.  I don’t know about all that, truthfully, but I am tired of wallowing in this BLAH place.  So…for the next week or so I am going to challenge myself to write and/or finish one of my Draft posts each day.

Can it be done? Will it help? Who cares: I’ll be writing again, and that’s what matters.

First up (for Monday–tomorrow I’m posting a Sinful Sunday): Innies, Outies and Three-Way Communication.

“The day you stop learning…”

I learned something new about W the other day, and he about me. A minor thing, though interesting to us both; all the more so because we were both surprised that we still, after almost four years, have things to learn about each other.

Perhaps this should not be so surprising. Once upon a time my father said to me, “The day you stop learning is the day you start dying.” Perhaps that holds true for relationships as well. Maybe the day you have learned all there is to know in a relationship, when there is nothing left to discover in it, is the day your relationship starts to die.  W has said he believes that monogamy doesn’t make sense anymore because we live so much longer now. This jives with the above, perhaps: after twenty or thirty years how can there be anything left to discover about one another?

I have never been known so deeply by anyone as I am by W; I feel at times that I know him not at all, and have endless discoveries to make, endless truths to uncover.  And yet at the same time I feel more connected to him, and have a deeper understanding of him, than of anyone I have ever known.

Outside of my marriage, and before poly, I tended to have relationships that lasted about two years. After that they died (what to me was) a natural death: I grew bored. There wasn’t anything left to learn, to know, to discover.  My marriage would have (and possibly should have) gone that way as well. About a year into things with the Ex, I knew I didn’t want the same things he did: marriage, kids, a mortgage, a “normal” life. Unfortunately I’d started things with him looking for exactly that (thinking: that will make me happy) so when things turned out that way, and I got pregnant with our daughter, it seemed unfair to deny that to him, even though I knew by that time that for me, it was a mistake.  It wasn’t a bad marriage, and he wasn’t a bad husband, but I never truly fit into it.

Still, I tried.  At about the eight year mark I knew I was done, and tried to leave. We were apart for about six months…but we were both broke, we had young children, we did love each other. Boredom seemed a bad reason to divorce someone, especially when everyone told me (over and over) how lucky I was to have a husband like him, how wonderful he was, etc.

We got back together.

I had affairs.  Love affairs that were both sexual and non-sexual, and purely sexual dalliances.  Through one of them, I accidentally discovered BDSM. I loved my Ex, and wanted nothing more than to find a way to be interested in him again, excited by him. I introduced him to BDSM. What followed was five years of intense discovery of each other, of learning and excitement and joy and pleasure for us both. It literally saved our marriage. But I had also discovered something else in those affairs: I could love/be excited by/enjoy sex with someone other than my husband. Love didn’t have to equal monogamy, and in fact, for me, it didn’t. This realization clarified so many things in my past relationships. I had been falling in love and like with multiple people my entire life, but with only one model of relationships to learn from, monogamy (or serial monogamy), I had dutifully broken up with each “last one” in turn as I moved on to the next, even though I never truly fell out of love with the previous person. I just wanted…more. Another. Or the freedom to experience–to discover–another.  And while my Ex could handle some things, that was not one of them, and was eventually the reason we broke up.

It is partly that freedom to discover and explore that keeps my relationships – now of 8+ and 3+ years – vibrant, interesting and strong. The other part, of course, is all the other things that make good relationships good: communication, love, respect, affection, genuinely liking each other, honesty, decency. But it is this spark, this sense of still having things to discover, that keeps things alive, keeps us all interested.

Or at least me.

I don’t know if the Guys have the same drive and need for diversion, for discovery, as I do. Or rather, I think that W does, but Ad may get his need for it met thru me as opposed to needing to find it on his own. Perhaps that is one reason he is content with me having Otherloves, and not feeling the need for them for himself.  W’s a different animal. I think his need for variety is just as deep as mine, but he also feeds that need in his own projects, with other people occasionally, and with introducing variety in our relationship – which, in turn, feeds my own needs. So…we all kind of feed each other and feed off each other. :-D

Maybe that’s the true key, a constant feeding and refilling of those reserves, of those needs.  Giving, taking, learning, discovering.

On Being a “Winner”

So yeah, apparently I am. I was named Top Sex Blogger in this year’s Riverfront Times Web Awards.  It’s an honor…but on the other hand, as W said when I told him that I was one of the top 5 nominees, “You mean there’s more than five sex bloggers in St. Louis?” LOL  So. “Big” fish (I use that term very tongue in cheek), small pond. Ha.

Honestly, though? Winning this thing (that I didn’t even know existed before last week) makes me a little uncomfortable. I mean, I’m really honored that I was, and did, but…well, that much attention makes me a little (and sometimes a lot) uncomfortable.

I know–“Bullshit, Jade!” you say. “Look at what you write here, look at how you expose yourself, look at the pictures you show, the things you say, how you love to go to events and have the guys do awful things to you in front of all those people! Don’t go trying to say you don’t love the attention. (And if you don’t, what the hell are you doing blogging in public about it?!?)”

And you’d be right. I do love a certain kind of attention: attention from people that I know will at least see what I do for what it is. This is my life. I do this stuff – and write about it – because I love it. I love the Guys, I love the things we do, we are happy and joyful and content and we’re…just us. Part of us is this “freakish” stuff we do…but to us, it isn’t freakish at all.

I don’t write this stuff because I’m a freak. I don’t write it to be a freak-show. I don’t want my blog to be that.

I want it to show…the power and strength and beauty and, yes, sexiness, of what we do, who we are. Fuck, I’m a 46 year old woman with three grown children, and I’m having the best sex of my life.

But I am also living the best life I could imagine, the life of my dreams.  I am involved in a deep, abiding, loving relationship with two incredible men. I have a family, and want to teach my children to be good human beings; to love and to allow themselves to be loved; to care; to have open hearts. I struggle like anyone else with self-image issues, with fear and selfishness and longing and unmet potential and anger and sadness.  But every day is a fresh start, and I am living my life exactly as I choose, in a world that sometimes values conformity more than it should. I want people to see that part, too.

Not just the “dirty, freaky” pictures.

This is what the RFT  had to say about my blog:

“Pieces of Jade is the dirtiest, freakiest sex site out there and, we warn you, not for the squeamish. We’re not sure how the site got its name, but we’re guessing it’s because author “Jade” is so eager to showoff every “piece” of her body (especially the naughty ones) and floridly describe what she’s subjected said pieces to lately.”

You know, I don’t mind being characterized as the “dirtiest, freakiest” sex blog, I suppose. I mean hell, it is a sex blog, and I write about my sex life in the most graphic of terms.  And I don’t mind the reference to posting pictures of my body and all the awful/wonderful things that get done to it. But I feel like they kind of missed the point of my blog, by focusing on the spectacle of what it is we do. Don’t get me wrong – I love posting my pictures, and I love knowing that people get off on them.  But my blog is about so much more than that.  And I hope that the people that come here because they’ve seen the link in the RFT will see that.

Their comment about my name, “Pieces of Jade,” speaks to this misunderstanding perfectly.

The name “Pieces of Jade” is not about how many “pieces” of my body I am “eager” to expose. Pieces of Jade comes from the fact that when I started this blog, 3 or 4 years ago, I started it so that I could write here about this one “piece” of my life in a place that was about this one piece of me, the kink piece, and that alone.

The whole point is that this – what we do, who I am here in these pages and with W and in my sex life – that is just one piece of me. One part of my life. A “Piece” of Jade.

That’s how it started out, anyway. And that’s where the name came from.

It has come to be so much more than that, though. It has become a chronicle of so much more than who I have fucked and when. Of how W uses me, or lets me be used. Of the games we play and the kink we get up to.  And if I am to be recognized as a “Top Blogger” of any sort – I want it to be because of that. Because I am unafraid to lay it all out here, the Good, the Bad & the Ugly. The things that work, the things that don’t. The things that I get off on and that get the Guys off. The dynamic within which our relationship lives, and the relationships outside that dynamic.

I hope…that anyone that comes here for the “freak show” will go away understanding that. I don’t imagine that too many will. As Ad said, “People come for the wank material, Jade. If you don’t want to be wank material, don’t post the pictures.” And he’s right…but the truth of the matter is that if people get off on what I write or post…I am okay with that too. Honestly. Hell, probably the main reason I write is to get W off. So I am good with that. But maybe…just maybe a few of them will also see that there’s more to this than just wank material. Than just the freak show.

And if so – then I can live with being a little uncomfortable.

A “Swinging” Night – Part 1

In my last post I said that I would talk more about the real-life application of the the way kink and swinging intersect for us.  I actually had some good discussion about this with Ad in our “debrief” of Saturday night.  As a new adventure for the two of us–actually for all three of us–I wanted to talk with him about what worked, what didn’t, if he enjoyed it, what might have gone better, etc., just like W and I do after a particularly strenuous or edgy scene.  What he told me didn’t surprise me in the least, and talking with him actually helped clarify some of my own ambiguous feelings that I’ve been having.

I’ve had swinging adventures before with the Ex. Only a few times though, because he really didn’t like them.  We both preferred three-way, either MFM or FMF.

I’ve come to realize I still do.

It seems like swinging–two couples, four people–should be balanced, and that that balance should make things easy. Each couple pairs off and does their thing, right?

Well sure, sort of.  Of course, our particular situation was a bit odd to start: three men and two women. But still, it was pretty close to swinging, with the other woman getting to enjoy my two guys while I got to be with her man. In theory that should work…and in practice, it did, to a degree.

But honestly?

I’m just not into swinging as a concept. I don’t want to be separated from my guys while someone else does me. I don’t care if they’re doing someone else, I’m cool with that, and in fact find it hot to watch. But I want to be right there with them when they are, engaged, interacting–or at least snuggled up in the bed next to them enjoying the show while they are.

There were a couple of things that made this very hot for other reasons though–and those all had to do with kink.  Using kink to corrupt swinging kinda works for me. Kinda. But…I’d much rather play on the hard end of the coercion scale. It’s not that I don’t like the couple we did this with, I do, quite a lot. And it’s not that they don’t have a kinky side, they do, and that’s cool. But really, being coerced was really what made it work for me.

But what Ad said to me, and what I have to agree with him about, is that, although the actual “getting down” with other couples in the typical “swapping” scenario is not an ideal way for either of us to have sex, being in that atmosphere is great, and we both love it. Going out to a bar, or hanging out, with a group of lifestylers is much preferable to any vanilla gathering. We can talk and flirt with others openly, I get to get my sexy on, Ad gets to be the touching, affectionate person he is, and the topics of conversation aren’t censored. I can flirt with both my men and talk openly about who we are and what we do, and even about our unusual sex lives.  The sexy dancing, the teasing and flirtation and open admiration of others is lovely.

Neither one of us wants to not do those things.  But neither one of us enjoys the negotiations and sometimes awkwardness of getting from sexy talk and flirtation to actual sex (nor are we especially skilled at it.) And if we do manage to get there, the truth is that the “swapping” part of it, where we aren’t actually sharing the experience with each other, is also not our preference. He, too, wants me to be involved, to be there, “assisting.” He also gets his greatest pleasure and gets most turned-on by having me being an active part of his sexual encounters.

So…I don’t know what that means for future forays by he and I into this. I’ve told him that whatever he is comfortable with is fine, that he won’t be judged if he doesn’t want to “perform.” But that may not actually be the case. Swinging is about swapping, an exchange, tit-for-tat, right? So, given a situation where sex is happening, there might be expectations. I just don’t know. I’m not experienced enough in these things yet to know.

Of course there are the non-sex parties. The meet and greets at bars, the dances, and the cruise will be one long party where nothing is expected but what you want to make of it (many of the folks on the lifestyle cruises are “lifestyle friendly” not actual swingers, who just enjoy the sexy, permissive and sexual atmosphere–much like Ad!)  So those things are cool. But the rest…we’ll see.

And as for me…well…it’s all bound up in kink for me, and without kink, the swinging part just doesn’t work. Now a drunken Jade being used by several men at a party would be hot too…but again, that isn’t (usually, from what I can tell) how these swinger things or the swinger dynamic works. So…we shall see.

Anyway…on to Saturday night. Which was fun, and did work on several levels for us all.

Let me give you the set-up.

We arrive at their suite at the hotel right on time. There is another couple there, and we all get to talking, and then another couple arrives, and then one more.  It was fun getting to know some of the Midwest people that are going on the cruise in November, but I know as the evening goes on that the real show is going to be happening later, after everyone but us leave. The couple that is hosting the party is a couple we played with before on the ship, and that W had played with even before that.

So I knew what the expectations were, and even more so, I knew what W’s expectations of me were.  I had, in fact, been fulfilling those expectations all night so far. I was dressed very sexy, in an extra short dress, stockings and garter belt and super-high heels, and no panties.  Something that I wasn’t flaunting, but…there might have been a glimpse or two here and there. The fact that I was wearing stockings and heels while everyone else was in jeans was not lost on any of them, I’m sure.  But I hadn’t tried to dress sexier than them–it was a swinger party, I thought everyone would be dressed up.

And also…regardless of what anyone else was wearing, I knew W wanted me to dress sexy, so that’s what I did. He wanted to be able to show me off, so I wore something that would turn heads.

I was also doing my damndest to charm and flirt with everyone, male and female, because I knew that that would please W as well.  It wasn’t hard to do, actually, because the desire to be liked, to be loved, by everyone is a deep one for me.  So, really, I was just my natural, people-pleasing self.  And actually, that size group is ideal for me and puts me right in my comfort zone; any larger and I start to feel intimidated and end up withdrawing.

My guys were holding their own as well, being friendly and flirting with our hostess quite a bit, making everyone comfortable with the concept of having an “extra guy” around (which was easy because hey, they were obviously interested in our hostess, which attention I think she loved.)  I was very proud of my guys and saw that the other women there knew how lucky I am to have them both – and also that I share.  Happily. :-)

There were a couple of funny moments during the evening too.

One: Ad is sort of hidden off to one side in the kitchenette. A couple arrives and gets the intro to W and I and the other couple. They start talking, and suddenly Ad steps out from the kitchen. “Oh!” says the guy of the couple that had just arrived. “Who are you?!?” (It is obvious from his tone that he’s thinking “single guy alert, single guy alert!”) “I’m Ad,” says my guy. “Ohhh…and um…” the other guy fumbles around for a moment, trying to find a way to ask it nicely. “He’s one of my guys,” I chime in, from the living room. All heads swivel my way. “That one,” I say, pointing to W, “and that one,” pointing at Ad, “are my two guys.”  I swear he looked totally flummoxed for a moment. Then, “Wow, you get two, huh?” “Yeah,” I say. “Actually, Ad insisted I find another one.  That’s how I got W.”  A moment of dead silence, then nervous laughter all around, and we all move on.

Two: One of the women asks me about the tattoo I have on the back of my neck. “That had to hurt!” she says. “Oh, well, uh…” I start to say, trying to find a way to say I liked it without actually saying, “I’m a freak!”  W doesn’t have those qualms, though, lol. “Well there’s something you need to understand about Jade,” says he. “Jade likes pain.” Another momentary silence as they all consider just what kind of creature they have in their midst.  Then the nervous laughter, and we all move on. Until the man next to me says, quietly, “So, you like pain, huh? What kind?” W knows how to flush them out, doesn’t he?  Now it’s my turn to be flummoxed. How much/how little do I say?  “Let’s just say,” I finally reply, “that I’m a very kinky girl.” And leave it at that. I can see his interest is peaked all night though, though his wife is decidedly less warm to me after that. That could be because she isn’t feeling well, though.  I guess we’ll see.

But sooner rather than later everyone starts to leave…and it’s just me, Ad, W, and the hosting couple, our friends.

And then the real fun begins…

(to be continued)