Cosplay

Y’all. My newest sexual adventure is maybe my favorite thing yet.

I am a huge fan of lingerie. I really get off on dressing a certain way for a partner. I like to see the look in their eyes when they see me in this way that they designed or that is designed for their pleasure. Some people don’t seem to care much for this part of sex, and some are too shy about their preferences (for whatever reason) to articulate what they want to see, even if I’ve asked. So sometimes it ends up being a trial and error thing.

When dressing for my self, I prefer a classic, all-black pinup look. Lacy thigh highs and a garter belt, perhaps a lacy bra and silk nighty or dressing gown, or some combination of these things. A while back I put on a variation on this outfit for Feathers, but I added shoes. The shoes are a pair I use for pole dancing as well, they’re these strappy black heels with gold accents. Very sexy. In my opinion. Feathers was certainly into the effort, but was clearly not so into the shoes.

I took them off, a bit embarrassed and we proceeded to have a lovely sexual encounter. (more on sex with Feathers soon, it’s a one of a kind experience) But afterward I decide to figure out more about the shoe thing. Feathers never bullshits me and he’s never cruel, so I always feel completely safe being honest about what I’m feeling. I said something like “I feel insecure that you were not into my sexy shoes. I need to know that you found my whole outfit and me very sexy just then”. I have learned to be extremely blunt in these situations. When you spend years being rebuffed when trying to have sex with your spouse, you get a little sensitive about this kind of thing.  Especially someone you care about. Had one of my casual guys not been into the shoes, I wouldn’t have thought twice. But I have some really heavy feels invested in Feathers now, and so I needed to get to the bottom of this perceived slight.

Once I articulated my fear and what I needed from him, he took about twenty seconds to fully comprehend it and gather himself. Then he gently pulled me back into bed and assured me he finds me extremely sexy. He told me my entire bit about dressing up for him was very charming and sexy and he loved it. He confirmed that the shoes weren’t exactly his thing (nbd next to these other reassurances). Because Feathers is always honest and clear with me, I believed every word and it only took this short assurance and some physical affection to brush off what could have been a really hurtful action, given my baggage.

That’s all to say that trial and error is not so simple for everyone. It’s especially tricky because what works with one partner, may not do it for another. Sexual compatibility, like relationships in general, is so much about fit. There is not an equation that makes it work or not work. I have had boring sex with beautiful men and bad sex with men I thought I loved. Feathers and I had had these discussions a bit, but it has become clear to me that he is less used to discussing these things than I.

Don’t get me wrong, he is GGG, for sure. But he has not been doing a concentrated sexual exploration trip the last year the way I have. So things that work between us have been slowly emerging, and what a fun process that has been. The newest development has been a game changer for us.

I’m at his house the other night and we’re a little drunk on whisky and feeling silly. I always feel safe being silly with Feathers. He seems to really like the goofy side of me, and I know I can show it to him without fear that he will no longer take me seriously elsewhere. I decide to show him a pic of my latest panic attack purchase (sometimes I buy stupid shit whilst having panic attacks). This time it was a $10 lacy body suit I bought on amazon. Kinda trashy, pretty sexy, very funny. I showed him a picture of me in it and he said “I have a raccoon suit”.

He proceeded to go to his closet and pull out A SEXY RACCOON SUIT, complete with faux fur legging, tail and hood with ears. I am honestly not even surprised by this. I immediately put it on and start posing on his bed in it. The skirt is so short, my pussy and ass are hanging out (the original owner, I can only guess, is Feather’s former primary, a girl a bit smaller than I). I demand he takes some pictures. For me, this is everything. Feathers is bizarre and so of course he is into what’s known as cosplay (costume play). Also, he of course OWNS a sexy raccoon suit. I find out later multiple women have worn it over the years. We send pictures to my girlfriends, who are all mildly obsessed with this man in my life. They get a good laugh out of it.

I go to get more whisky from the other room even though his roommates are home and we all have a great laugh about it. I would do just about anything to make Feathers laugh. Though it seems just being myself does it. The encounter ends with some of the most intense sex he and I have shared yet. It doesn’t occur to me until later that it’s kind of like sharing a sex toy with someone, wearing this suit that other women have worn. Ick. But I am thrilled he’s let me in on this predilection of his and I am more than happy to oblige. But now, I am compiling my own suit.

I have gotten to the bottom of what’s compelling about this for him. He likes the tail and the ears. He LOVES thigh highs, this I already knew. And the corset idea is very sexy to him, though he was very worried I would be uncomfortable in a corset, so which I responded “super not the point darling”. I am so excited about this new avenue in our sexual relationship. He clearly has a thing for this and I LOVE DRESSING UP FOR MEN. But raccoons are kind of gross and I don’t want to wear a used suit again, so I’m developing an outfit of a sexy fox, using this photo for inspiration.

As it turns out, you can buy butt plugs that are attached to tails. I have wanted to invest in a butt plug for a while now, so I’m stoked for an excuse. I bought a matching tail and ears on etsy and am on the hunt for the rest of the outfit. It’s funny, this is the kind of sexual thing that probably would have freaked me out in the past. But now, it’s like “why not?”.

Feathers is away on a backpacking trip and I’m surprised how much I am missing him. He doesn’t have cell service and I just miss talking to him. Putting together this costume has been a fun distraction. I’ll report back with the result. I told him he’d return to a sexy little fox!

Identity

I’ve always fancied myself independent. I’ve sold myself a narrative about a woman who has always and will always do exactly what she wants. It’s not completely untrue.. but it’s also not completely true.

In my teen years, personal definition was about my small bubble. I at once adhered to the homogeny around me and bucked against it. But everything I did and every way in which I understood myself was in relation to the culture in which I was raised; a predominantly white, upper middle class, Conservative, Patriarchal, Mormon community. I was at once a part of it and its biggest critic. But it was all I knew.

Then came young adulthood, where I did some BIG things and made some BIG decisions. I publicly and angrily left Mormonism. I played with sex and drugs. I was sexually assaulted. I traveled. I went to college (on and off). I began to define myself not only in terms of my immediate community, but the world more broadly. Community meant much more than what my physical neighbors did or thought. Politics, belief systems, societal, socioeconomic and community hierarchies were all I saw and cared about. I married in a way that felt radical. I embraced feminism and grew a loud voice. I also built an identity around a profession that stroked my ego in a way that now makes me nauseous.

Then came adulthood. I quit the job that gave me purpose. I left the husband that gave me some parts of my identity. I found myself in a new city with a lot of questions and zero answers. I’ve spent the last year and half extricating myself from the life my young adult self built.

And now it’s time to rebuild with only one consideration: what is it that I truly care about and how will I live my life in accordance with that?

The problem is that question has a different answer all the time. Or maybe, more accurately, this question has many different answers. Here’s a short list just to get myself going:

  • Relationships. I value the people in my life highly. If I do nothing else with my life but cultivate deep and fulfilling relationships, friendly, romantic and everywhere in between, that will feel like a life well spent. I value treating these people with respect, honesty, kindness and selflessness. I feel more valuable and important on the phone late one night with a friend in the midst of a panic attack than at any other time, perhaps.
  • Community. I value being a contributing part of a community. Even more deeply, I value creating communities. I get so much pleasure from connecting folks, especially women to one another in a way that helps all of them.
  • Creation. Creating space and writing and ideas is where it’s at. I feel most fulfilled and calm when I spend time creating. Of course I want to create things that others find interesting/useful, but I think that can’t be the only impetus for creation.

Some things I have derived value from that I would not like to continue deriving value from:

  • Status. I was married to a physician. I was at the top of my career. While status feels nice, it isn’t ultimately fulfilling because it doesn’t seem to really get at who you are as a human being.
  • Beauty. I’m a pretty person and it has nothing to do with my experience of myself or the world. The only thing it really does is make it a little easier for me to get what I want from the people around me. A fact that I am not proud of. The emphasis on it also contributes to a lot of self doubt, self-loathing and hours and hours of wasted mental energy.
  • Fame. I have a mild obsession with being known. I’m not exactly sure what this is about but I don’t like it and I don’t think it will make me fulfilled. I’ve had tastes of it in different contexts. Enough to know that it doesn’t last long and it’s very painful to chase.
  • Fortune.  It’s nice to be able to pay your bills and then buy nice clothes and go on a trip. But it isn’t the key to lifelong fulfillment.

As I’m writing this I’m realizing something simple. The more I want my life to look a certain way, the more unhappy I am.

I guess what I’m getting at in this very indulgent post is that I think maybe I am more free and independent now than ever in my life and I want to be extremely intentional about what that looks like.

 

 

He’s Magic

Last night Feathers put me to bed by describing a walking tour of a park near his house. He's an arbor enthusiast and so he described the tress in the park in great detail; were his favorite and what they looked like, whether or not they were healthy, and how old they probably were. As someone with PTSD, the minutes just before falling asleep are some of the scariest. The darkness sets in and the fear of the nightmares you may face fill your mind. Most people with ptsd tell themselves elaborate stories during this time, imaging other worlds and experiences – I'm no different. At different times various lovers have read me poetry before bed, but Feathers taking me on a walking tour was the most peaceful way to drift off I've yet experienced.

We've been spending a lot of time together lately. Feathers and his primary partner split recently so he's just had more time for me. I don't know a lot about the specifics of the end of their relationship and I prefer it that way. He and I both agree it doesn't make sense for me to be his primary emotional support in that arena. He's definitely hurting though. They were together about 5 years and they do still care deeply for one another. Something I can relate to completely.

So although I'm sorry to see him hurting, our relationship has been able to grow deeper in the last few weeks and that has been beautiful.

When I'm with him, I laugh so much. At him, with him, at myself. It's sarcasm, but it's also deep wit, creativity and playfulness. But the laughing is at the absurdity of life. He, more than many, has a grasp of the way things can change quickly and the range of ways people can behave. I think it's this that allows me to be so honest with him. I truly never feel judged. In fact, if he read this blog, he would be unsurprised. And there are things I don't even dare share here that I have shared with him.

Early on in our relationship he expressed that it's difficult for him when people want to manufacture intimacy by sharing too much too soon, relying on physical intimacy, or the like. I'm very thankful for the pace that set in our relationship because now it seems that the trust and intimacy is starting to grow in an authentic way.

We are beginning to let one another further into each other's lives, meeting friends and all that. It's nice in that the ultimate goal is no longer necessarily monogamy and cohabitation and ultimate combination of lives. This is really allowing us to test out the ways in which we can and want to live in relation to one another and adjust as needed.

There have been a few catches and hard convos but not many. And not because there aren't differences or things but because above all, Feathers is a stellar communicator. Even if what he is communicating is that he's unavailable to communicate. There is consistency in the way we deal with one another and that is very calming. Not to say it's sameness, it's not. It changes and varies and looks different ways depending on each of us, but I never have to wonder if he still wants to spend time with me. And that didn't have to be a conversation. I expect there will be other things and there are ways in which I already anticipate we would not want to combine our lives. But I'm really and truly ok with that.

I feel lucky each time I get to spend time with him. The other evening he worked in his studio and I lounged there too, cross stitching and choosing music. It's these types of times that stand out to me in any relationship. The quiet times. The boring times. It isn't the nights out or the anniversaries. It's the nights in, just existing together. The time well spent in one another's company.

And each time I get a peak into the way his mind works with a joke about space and black holes or a little speech about an obscure author from the sixties, I want more. He's very similar to Spouse in this way. One difference being, he doesn't expect me to care about his far reaching interests and ability to retain information. It's a part of him, but not from where he draws his entire sense of self. This makes it easier to enjoy. I can also acknowledge that we have only been seeing one another for about 6 months and not all that many time each week or month, and so there is some NRE carrying us. But all the same, I would be lying if I didn't say: he's magic.

Tall Guy

I am dating a white man. I mean, I’m actually dating a lot of white men. But, there is one who is particularly White and Male. Like. He golfs. And works in tech. Compared to my band of amazing weirdos, he is the odd man out.

We met on an app to find threesomes a while back and sexted nearly daily for about a month. At the time, he wasn’t ready to meet in person, as he is married and they were taking a step back from all this to make sure it felt right to proceed in non monogamy. The sexting was on the up and up with his wife and I was in no hurry, so he continued.

We have been exploring some age play. Nothing too dramatic. Just daddy/good girl stuff. But we haven’t even pretended there was an actual family connection or that I was super young. And in sexting, I found I was extremely turned on by this dynamic. It turns out I will do just about anything to be called “good girl” in bed, when I finally get that I can almost always cum.

I feel conflicted about how much I like this. As a feminist and a good person, I don’t condone men controlling women or incest. But, I have received the advice again and again that the way one plays in bed must be divorced from our actual politics. Intellectually, I believe that, but I’m still working on shedding the shame of having a kink like this.

Fortunately it’s just something I enjoy and not something I feel I need a lot of. Tall Guy and I played with the dynamic via texting for about a month and although we’d never met, I began to feel pretty connected to him. It was clear we were at least compatible in this one way and it was also clear that although he found me very sexy, he was not interested solely in that part of me.

When we finally met, it was at once new and familiar. We had drinks at a dim, craft cocktail bar and laughed at the fact that we had had so much text sex and never even heard one another’s voices. Physically, he is outside of my usual type; he’s very tall (6’4″) and clean shaven. Personality wise, he’s more like me than like the men I usually see. Which is interesting.

He’s very kind and thoughtful, a good listener and clearly emotionally and mentally stable. It makes sense that he is in a healthy marriage. He and his wife are quite well to do, they own a brand new three floor walk up in a great neighborhood, they travel a lot and live a life of relative luxury. This fact at once interests me and makes me sick. I love hanging at their house and going to nice places with him, but it also clear to me that they are the beneficiaries of a crazy amount of privilege and I’m having a hard time grasping how aware of that they are.

One of my favorite things about non monogamy is getting a first person peak into the way a lot of different people live without having to integrate into it fully. Tall Guy and I do basic bitch things together, like picnics in Millenium Park and cocktails at great yuppy bars. I imagine at some point there will be brunch. These things are a real part of myself and so I’m glad to have a person to do them with.

Being with Tall Guy speaks to a part in myself that I’m a little ashamed of, but is also kind of important to me. It’s a comfortable, stable life with someone of my same demographic with few challenges. Which also means little excitement. Tall Guy honestly reminds me of how amazing Spouse was; a beautiful combination of stability and comfort but with intrigue and curiosity.

The thing I like most about Tall Guy is his ability to communicate. In fact, that’s the only thing all the people I see have in common; solid communication skills. But there have already been a few healing experiences with Tall Guy. In navigating multiple relationships for the first time (they’re new to this also), things come up. And I have been extremely impressed with 1) my ability to articulate when something doesn’t sit right and 2) his ability to respond to that and assure me and vice versa.

I think Tall Guy is my boyfriend. And I think I like having a boyfriend like him.

 

 

The Juggler

My newest Tinder adventure is one for the books. I have to admit I really love an odd ball man. I lovingly call these men my weirdos, and I’ve been seeing a new one. Though this person identifies as gender queer so I’ll do my best with neutral pronouns.

We met many months ago, just weeks after Spouse and I split. They are a professional juggler and I saw them perform in a circus show. Afterwards, I tried to awkwardly hit on them. I told them their performance really spoke to me or something equally embarrassing. Which is true, their performer persona (and it turns out their real persona) is adorably bashful and I was real into it. They brushed that off with a “yeah, sometimes audience members get really into performers”.

Then we matched on Tinder recently and decided to meet up. They don’t remember me hitting on the, after the show ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Since I already knew them, we decided to just meet at mine (but not before having hot phone sex the night before). When they arrived, we sat on the couch, drinking kombucha and polishing our nails. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, we were sitting on the couch facing one another and The Juggler closed their eyes and took my hands in theirs. Then they began tickling my arms with this look on their face just like they were exploring, trying to sense me without using sight.

I kept mine open and looked at them like “what is happening?”. But, I didn’t pull away because truthfully I was enamored with the whole thing. They didn’t say much, just kept feeling my arms and eventually my back, by which time I was getting really turned on.

Eventually we made it into my bedroom where we spent about three hours exploring one another. Let me just say: The Juggler knows how to use their hands. I think they may be the most intuitive lover I’ve ever been with. I typically have trouble letting a new partner make me cum. I can get myself there by leading the charge or using a toy, but to trust another person to do that is tough. But they got me to the edge of that about 5 separate times, in many different ways, but each time I’d get in my head at the end and would lose it. We talked after and they said they felt they could read me until that last moment.

They also know themselves very well sexually. They’re a decade older than me and has been non mono most of their adult life, with a variety of lovers. All that experience and openness shows; they are very well attuned to another person’s needs. This is the kind of lover I aspire to be.

But back to the actual event.. after all these hours of fun, I finally asked him to cum on my chest, a particular fondness for me as I think I have great tits. BUT THEN. THE CRAZIEST THING HAPPENED. HE LICKED UP SOME OF HIS OWN CUM AND SAID “Huh, it tastes funny today”!!!!

Keep in mind that I have been doing threesomes like it’s my job and even was double penetrated very recently. But this. This was a real shocker! I honestly could not keep my face neutral. I mean. It’s ok. Like, people eat cum all the time. I’ve just never seen a person eat their own, let alone know what it should taste like normally!

I should also say that as sexually adventurous as I’ve become, I still do not let people cum in my mouth. It’s something I’d like to get used to, but need to be motivated by love or something probably. Barista came in my mouth once (it was the first time anyone had) and I spit it out on his shirt and started laughing. We broke up that night. Longer story. Just to say, I am not a fan of semen in my mouth. So the idea that someone would willingly and without anyone asking them to, eat their own cum. Yikes. Intellectually I don’t have a problem with this and I have fucked them three times since. But boy was I surprised!

Unfortunately they is not terribly good at conversation or asking questions. It seems like they doesn’t care all that much about getting to know me. But then again, they did come stay over during my health episode and was very sweet. They did my dishes and everything. It’s hard to tell if the reason they don’t ask questions is because they’re really caught up in himself in an egotistical way or if they just likes to get to know someone more by spending time with them. I’m not so worried about it.