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.




Dog Dad

I met a person irl. I’ve never done that before, really. He’s a dog dad and we met at the dog park. S doesn’t care for the dog park, but we go a lot anyway because I like to meet new dogs. And I’ve actually met many of my human friends in the city in this way. The best people are crazy dog parents.

Dog Dad and I both work from home (him just on occasion) and both live on the border of the same huge park. So many mornings he and his pup will be sunbathing when S and I head across the park for morning coffee. When we see him, we’ll stop to chat for a half hour or so. It’s always been flirty and I’ve had a crush from the get go. He’s maybe a decade older than me and has this great salt and pepper thing starting to happen.

We have a very similar sense of humor; sardonic but not in an overwhelming way. Just in a trying-to-get-through-the-day sort of way. We’d connected over similar mental health issues – a product of a slightly self deprecating sense of humor in us both. Finally, a few weeks ago, he asked for my number. But still, because we hadn’t met on an app where the intention was explicit, I felt unsure of his feelings.

We did have one quasi coffee date and lounge in the park during which I’m pretty sure he took a picture of me. I was outside the coffee shot with his pup while he ordered and he stealthily snapped a pic of she (his pup) and I. When I looked up he tucked his phone away and quickly turned around. I did not call him out on it, instead choosing to believe he just couldn’t help it cause I looked so pretty.

Dog Dad is an artist and I expressed interest in seeing his studio space sometime. We made plans for a private tour and it turned into an absolutely dreamy date. He works out of a collective art warehouse in a hip part of town with another dozen artists. Everything from writers to painters and print makers. The space was painted all white with a front facing gallery area and then a back space with multiples loft spaces, none of which seemed up to fire code to me, but displayed insight into some very interesting minds.

Eventually we ended up in his rather large and private space. The walls were covered in his art and things he loved or what inspired him. What a gift to see this carefully curated space. I must have spent a half an hour wandering around, asking about this picture or that print. In both the interest of anonymity and the fact that my words won’t be able to accurately present his world, I won’t try to describe it. But I will say, I was quite taken. Both by the art itself, which was just exactly my style and humor and speed and also by him letting me into this place.

It was very clear to me that although he has had girlfriends, he is not ultimately the kind of person that takes just any woman to this place or tries to use this part of himself to woo anyone around him. As he’d show me things, he’d kind of look to me to see how I was reacting. And honestly, I loved it all so much, I felt completely charmed. What he puts into his work is some of the insecurities in his person and I relate to that. It’s what I do here, in fact.

Moving through space with him is a pleasure. He opens doors and is very aware of me in space so I never felt awkward or out of place. It’s the kind of awareness that speaks to a man’s maturity, in my opinion.

After the tour we went to dinner down the street. We talked about our families and where we’d been as adults. I told him about Spouse, which had not come up before. He didn’t seem phased by the idea, especially once I explained the circumstances a bit more. I did not, however, get into non monogamy. I said something like “dating since the split has been wild” and he laughed it off and said “we can get into that another day”. Perfect. I’ve never had to have that conversation with a new interest and I’m not really sure how it will go.

I was shocked at how many things he remembered that I’d mentioned to him in the last few months of chatting in the park. And he told me a few funny things he said he doesn’t normally admit. It was easy and simple and real, and we were both clearly eager to learn more and more about one another. Eventually we walked back to the art space and got caught in the rain on the way back. I seriously considered stopping and kissing him, but it felt like this was his planned date and I wanted to be the guest as he designed it.

Once back inside, I sat on a white bench and he got his phone out to take a picture of me sitting there. It had been a night of many of those moments where you look at one another, lock eyes and smile. The kind of wordless flirting that makes you feel really young again. He asked if I minded being photographed and I said “it would be cuter if I pretended to be demure and not like my picture taken, but yes, I love it, go ahead”. He seemed to like that and took a few, which I didn’t ask to see. Confidence and all that. I know I photograph well and although no one likes an unflattering photo, I try not to let vanity lead me entirely.

Eventually he came over and touched me for the first time. It’s strange, when I see him in the park, I’ve often had the urge to give him a hug but was never sure I could/should. So when he hugged me, it felt like a long time coming. Then there was a pull back and a really magnetic first kiss. Tingles down my spine and all that. Then it began to get a bit more hot and heavy, his hands running down my back and barely grazing my ass. He kissed my neck in this way that nearly made me fall over. I held on tight and eventually he pulled one of my legs up around him as we kissed. I would have fucked him right then and there. Truly.

But things wrapped up and we drove home. During the drive he made the joke that this was an above average Wednesday night and next Wednesday was likely not to live up to it. I told him the only thing that could make it a 10/10 kind of night for me is if I could get him to “sing like nobody’s listening”. He did not sing. But we both laughed very hard at this, having the same affinity for mocking “live, laugh, love” culture.

I invited him in because I love sex and wanted to keep being around him and I have no self restraint or ability to pace things appropriately. He declined and said something like “I am not going to come in but I want to but I won’t”. lol. I’m glad he didn’t come in. He did leave me with another kiss and by telling me he likes my smile and my laugh and “a lot of other things too but I’m not good at compliments”. lol. I think he’s pretty good at compliments. I wandered in on a bit of a cloud.

In the morning he sent me the photo he took with the caption “mornin’ – pretty picture for ya”. I know that as a former photographer he can’t help but want to take photos.. but I’m also choosing to believe that he really liked the moment of me sitting there in his studio, smiling at him. So much so that he wanted to capture it and have it. I posted it on my instagram and it is quite literally the most “liked” thing I’ve ever posted.

Clearly, I am smitten by this darling man. The Dog Dad from the park.

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.


Oh to be young and in love

Spouse called to check in on me tonight after my health episode. Truth be told, it was difficult to get through without him. My new people stepped up, but I wasn’t supposed to even have those people. I am married. I was supposed to have a husband. And I don’t.

I’m still in some pain and feeling tender and not quite myself, so the conversation went there pretty quickly. We were both in tears. I asked him the question I ask myself all the time “Why didn’t it work? We loved each other so much.”

If that question had a simple answer, we may not have to ask it. There are a lot of answers and it’s tempting to fit it into a neat narrative. But that wouldn’t be honest or fair. In fact, we decided tonight that doing so may actually tarnish the beauty and rarity of what we did have.

Facebook reminded Spouse of a photo of he and I snuggling in bed with our first dog. In the picture I am looking at Spouse with the kind of adoration and love that you just can’t fake. He told me that when he saw the photo he could remember a time when I looked at him that way. He said he could remember when he deserved it and he remembered I continued to look at him that way long after he deserved it..

Spouse is incredibly intelligent and incredibly afraid of letting others in, emotionally. When I met his family, they told me they had never seen him so happy as he was with me. He attributed this to the fact that he never felt he could truly be himself with them of with anyone. He told me then and reaffirmed tonight that when we met, it was the first time in his life that he felt maybe another person could know him and understand him. He began to show himself fully and fearlessly, censoring only ever so slightly.

That time, which cannot be defined by dates or eras or legal status, was ecstasy. We met, and in typical me fashion, I said “you” and focused all my attention on making him mine. We fell quickly, fully and without fear. Within weeks, I was intending to spend the rest of my life with him and he me. We empowered one another, made one another smile and laugh and discussed everything. We melded our lives easily and without question.

There was a moment tonight when I wondered if I would ever have it again. That experience that words cannot even begin to adequately describe, that love. And we agreed: no. Neither he nor I would ever have that again. Because to be young and in love is truly a unique and impossible to replicate experience. And I feel unbelievably grateful to have had so much of it with such a special man.

We will both love again. I’m sure of it. But we will never love with such recklessness and fearlessness. We will never fall so hard and so deep and so fast quite like that again. We agreed and reaffirmed something we’ve felt all along: just because it changed doesn’t mean it was a mistake. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been a part of.


Having a person

One of the hardest things about exiting a marriage is the loss of your person. In a marriage, you have a built in person. This person is your go-to. In crisis, for events, for staying in and watching Netflix. You don’t have to think about it because you know they’ll be there.

Because work and emotional distance, Spouse hasn’t really been my person in a while. But he was good at showing up when it mattered. I have a recurring ailment that has me laid up in bed for a few days every now and again, unable to walk or care for my dog or work. For years, Spouse managed me care. The dosing of pain pills, who would take the dog out and keep an eye on me while he worked, etc.

So when I had an episode this week, I was truly scared. My roommate is out of town and Spouse was working, unable to get away and also no longer required to try.. So I was in charge of my own care. These episodes are unexpected and they put me in so much pain, I can’t usually think straight.

But the most wonderful thing happened: my community came through for me! Spouse coached Feathers over the phone on how to give me a shot I needed and Feathers stayed with me for 24 hrs, caring for S and I fully. Tall Guy came by to take S out and help after that. My closest girlfriend in the city, H, came by to keep me company and a few men who I just have casual sex with came by as well.

Feathers and I have been spending a lot of time together lately and it’s been really magical. He is truly a special person and I feel really lucky to be a part of his life. He’s tender and brilliant and creative. I never know what time with him will entail, but I’m always glad to see him. He was a really attentive caregiver as well. One of the best things a person can do for me when I’m in pain is distract me and Feathers is full of stories and ideas, so he was the ideal caretaker. I couldn’t sleep the first night and he stayed up all night with me showing me youtube videos he made or telling me stories, real and fictional.

When Tall Guy came over, he walked in, saw me laying pathetically on the couch and said “oh sweetie” with so much empathy I almost started crying. He came over and gently hugged me and kissed my head. It was honestly such a sweet moment, I wish I had been more lucid for it.

As painful as those days were and as stressful as it is to be so helpless, I couldn’t help but marvel at the idea that even though I don’t have one built in person, I do have people who love me and care about me. And in some ways, sharing the burden among a few people is actually really nice.

I love to believe I am completely self sufficient now. Miss independent woman who can do it all. And I think that’s mostly true. But, there are times of crisis and not everything is meant to be done alone. Such a relief to find out I do have support. I do have people. I just don’t have a person. And that’s OK.