Unexpected Implications of Monogamy

I posted recently about our deeply rooted ideas and feelings structured around monogamy. I alluded to the way that our thoughts surrounding monogamy are so deeply ingrained that they bleed into our feelings. I started writing that post a few days ago. It was in response to a comment passed by a Twitter follower. As I wrote it I had no idea about how ironic the content would be in my own life.

I have documented a few times on these pages about my encounters with Johnny. I have known this man for about seven or eight months. From the time we first made contact it was electric. There was never an encounter I had with him that left me feeling unsatisfied. He was always a perfect gentleman.

A few days ago I received a message from him (worded beautifully) telling me that he had started a serious romantic relationship and our time had to end. He wished me well and told me a bunch of stuff that made me tear up. As I write these words I feel the tears threatening to make their appearance again. I want to emphasise that my relationship with this man was in no way romantic. We never went on a date. We never even had a drink together. The weekend we met Covid restrictions were starting to be enforced and all public meeting places like bars and coffee shops were closed. We met in a park for about fifteen minutes before that first electric touch and it was all fucking from there.

But fucking is not impersonal. It is the most personal thing we can do as humans. There is no clothing, you are skin to skin, breath to breath. Neither of us held back or lied or pretended it was OK when it wasn’t. We shared and we pushed each other to try new things. Well I pushed him mainly but he didn’t argue. Even though I don’t know how he drinks his coffee and what he does for a living or what kind of music he likes I know the look he gets when he is about to cum. I know how hard and fast and deep he likes it. He knows the parts of my body that most people will never see, thankfully. Just because our friendship was made of a chain of naked, sweaty sessions of sex and not a million mundane conversations about children and food and abstract ideas does not make it less intimate. I does not negate the feelings of loss when it is ended.

And so I was sad when I received his message. Not angry, because he did nothing wrong. He was, as always, a perfect gentleman. I was not ready to move on but I understand why he was. The irony is in the fact that I could not share the loss of my friend with anyone around me. Despite believing in non-monogamy and accepting that this feeling of loss was completely valid and natural. Despite knowing that as far as my marriage and ‘primary’ relationship was concerned this relationship was consensual in every aspect. I could not share with the vanilla world my feeling of sadness.

I could not explain why I was feeling so bummed. Nor could I really explain to my students why my face was not happy. Of course, like teenagers, they assumed my mood was somehow related to them; but that is a separate issue. I could not share my feelings with my colleagues. If it had been a neighbour or other friend, the kind I shared a million mundane conversations with, I could have told everyone I met that day and they all would have sympathised. But because he was out of the box I couldn’t. Even with a protracted explanation the vanilla world is so entrenched in monogamy that they would miss the point. I would be judged. For wanting to be non-monogamous, for enjoying it, and worse, for admitting that I actually like sex.

We like things to fit into neat boxes. We like rules and boundaries. Except when we don’t. Mostly we like rules to apply to other people so we can be sure how to react to them. When someone doesn’t follow the rules you have set for them, and for yourself (when you choose to follow them) it is unsettling. Non-monogamy is like that. Unsettling. It doesn’t follow the rules. It is not predictable and you can never know exactly what it means for a given person.

Of course I will not feel like this forever. As I type I feel the loss becoming fainter. In time I will be pragmatic about it and those evenings will become just a part of my history. Memories of being amazing and daring to be different.

TMI Tuesday – Sexy Sentences

It seems I cannot get myself organised these days no matter how hard I try. I am determined to keep writing. I hope you all enjoy this little story I put together with these prompts.

1. He _____ inside me repeatedly.

Our greeting was the same as always. A gentle kiss that deepened as our bodies pressed together. The kiss ended as he slowly removed my clothing and laid me down on the bed. He positioned himself between my legs and began exploring my thighs with his mouth. His hands pushed my knees further apart as his tongue circled my outer labia before breaking through to my hot wet cunt. He looked up into my face as he slid his fingers in and out of me repeatedly.

2. What excited me most was _____ and _____ .

After he fucked me with his fingers he bent down and tasted my cunt. One taste was more than he could bear. He pressed his face hard against me as his tongue slid through all of my folds stroking my swollen clit and dipping into my opening. I was moaning and thrashing around the bed when he pulled away and stood above me.

The two things that excited me most about this man were the tongue that had just ravished me and the gorgeous cock that now stood out proudly in front of him. I adored his cock right from the glistening pre cum that was forming at the tip along the soft velvet skin of the shaft to the tight balls nestling at the base. I sat up and began to worship him properly.

3. I lounged around naked on the couch with my _____ .

After we had fucked hard and long we rested together. I lounged around naked on the red leather of the couch with my head resting on his shoulder. My fingers stroked the soft skin of his belly before trailing down to explore the soft relaxed skin of his balls.

We talked about many things, past relationships, past experiences and fantasies. He told me he wanted to be bound and teased. A germ of an idea began to grow in my mind…

4. Still bound and begging, and he _____ .

He lay in the middle of the bed with his hands tied above his head. There was a little fear in his eyes as I straddled his naked torso. I bent over his face, letting my breasts graze his lips. Hungrily he raised his head trying to taste my nipples. But they were just out of his reach.

I ground my cunt against his body, pleasuring myself against him. He responded by writhing against his bonds. I dipped my fingers down into my slit, touching myself and covering my fingers with my juice. I reached up and touched his lips letting him taste me.

Greedily he sucked away every last drop. “Please,” he begged. “I need to taste your pussy. I need to feel you.” He looked into my eyes. I moved my pussy lower so that his cock rested against my wetness. He moved his hips against my opening. I arched my back, moving away from him. His hands balled into fists, straining against the bonds. His eye begged as he thrust towards me.

5. After _____ I gently unbound him.

I lowered myself onto his waiting cock. His length filled me slowly. For a moment I paused, enjoying the feeling of his cock inside me. Then, slowly I began to move. Riding his magnificent cock, grinding down on him. Our eyes met and he mouthed the words,

“Tell me.”

I lost control as the orgasm shuddered through me. My juices spurted over his belly. He thrust himself deep inside me and I felt the orgasm rising again. His body and the bed were covered with my juice.

After I was spent I gently unbound him. He flexed his hands before flipping me over and dragging me towards him.

“I am not finished with you.”

Bonus: All I can think of is how quickly I can clear my schedule to meet him again.

This post is part of TMI Tuesday for July 28. Click here to see who else is confessing.