The Man that Helps Me Believe in Polyamory Makes Me Think About Monogamy

I woke up an hour and a half before my alarm today with the intention of writing about the new guy. I had coffee. I had some food. I decided that I couldn’t type while eating so I went to Facebook. I played some games. I commented, liked, lurked…played more games. I finally opened this blog window as my alarm was going off. Oh, I know avoidance when I see it. Yes, yes I do. I have been avoiding you.

I find this self-awareness to be interesting despite any real effort on my part to actually change the behavior. I know what I’m avoiding, and yet I’m fairly content to allow myself to do so. It’s like leaving dishes in the sink. I know they’re there but I’m a grown-ass adult and I can leave my dishes in my sink if I so choose. Right?! Adult!

Okay, fine, fine! I was on vacation in the boondocks for a week, and then came home sick too – so let me add a legitimate excuse to the pile of rationalizations!

I have observed that if I really like someone that I am seeing that it is difficult to write about them. I find that I am all about bravado, humor and being bawdy, and not so great at being soft, squishy & vulnerable. It doesn’t really take a therapist to figure out my defense mechanisms for self-protection. Oh sure, when you start seeing someone that you really like you get swamped with new relationship energy – you spend a ton of time together, and let everything fall to the wayside. Friends, dishes, blogs… But as that eases a bit, I find myself having even more of a struggle starting to tell the tale. It becomes like catching up on overdue homework – a seemingly insurmountable obstacle! Jeez, I’m still talking about why I haven’t written. Start writing already!!

He’s E38 and I decided to call him Working-class Whimsy because he’s an artist, smart, well-spoken, well-read and has interesting perspective, but he also comes from a very blue-collar background and works a project management job in the construction industry. He could also be “chameleon” because he manages to sort of fit into lots of settings and also pull off several different looks – something that I mentioned to him in my very first response to him on OKCupid. He messaged me saying that he was attracted, that we seemed to have shared interests, and that I should respond if I felt the same. I looked at this goofy, funky, artistic, sexy man who described himself as a poly starving artist with a twisted sense of humor and thought “oh yes please…”

I think our first phone call was about seven hours. I loved his honesty, openness and matter-of-fact frankness. No bullshit. Direct. I even broke one of my cardinal rules and engaged in a bit of phone sex at the end of our marathon chat session. The conversation had turned to sex in an offhand “what do you like” sort of way and it was clear that both of us were going to hang up and go rub one out. I sent a text after our call ended and asked if he wanted me to “talk him off” and called him back. As it turned out, he did most of the talking. Man, he talks very, very well. I told him that I knew we were going to have a lot of fun. And so far we have.

Our schedules didn’t match up until Memorial Day largely because I was seeing the Little Pirate Bear that weekend and having lots of sex with him. By the the time Whimsy and I got together on Monday, I was sore and raw from being worked over all weekend. We were planning to have lunch somewhere near a shopping area a few miles away from my place where he was looking at electronics. I had to use the bathroom so I went into the mega electronics store and texted him that I was there. He found me. (Not in the bathroom! After!) Now, you hear about sparks flying and chemistry and love at first sight, right? Well, I’m too old and jaded for that bullshit, but there was something instantly…comfortable from the start. As we fell into step in the store it felt like we should have already been holding hands. Natural. Relaxed. There was a feeling of “oh, hey – there you are. I know you.” We just sort of clicked.

Being ever the romantic, our next stop was the hardware store next door for wasp spray. Sexy, huh? As I said, there was a general degree of casual comfort from the get-go. When we discussed lunch, we opted for a place in town and I drove us both there in my car. We ate and fell into easy conversation. As the meal neared the end, he started asking what I wanted to do next. He noted that the weather was too poor to take a walk and said that we could see a movie – though he acknowledged that wasn’t very social. I thanked him for the movie invitation but declined, saying that I would much rather talk with him more.

We opted to leave the restaurant and figure out what to do next. While crossing the parking lot, he asked me what I wanted to do and I said “what do you want to do?” He then stopped, put his hand on my hip, pulled me to him and planted a very serious kiss on me. Stroking my face, he said “that is what I wanted to do.” A minute later, while getting in the car, he chuckled and said “I wanted to make sure that you knew I was interested.” I laughed and said that since he didn’t check the time and say he needed to get going and kept asking what I wanted to do next that I figured he was interested. I said that I was as well, and indicated that I would really like to hang out and talk some more. We discussed where to go, and I finally said “look, we could go to my place, but if we do we’ll probably wind up in bed – not that that’s a bad thing, but I had company all weekend and am actually really fucked out, so…”

Yeah, classy, right? Or just refreshingly honest? I had had sex something like eleven times over the weekend, and was absolutely aching from the beard-rash. I didn’t want our first time to be “oooh, ah…ow” you know? So he said he would be fine with just talking or maybe even watching a movie. We came to my place and talked for about an hour…before we wound up in bed.

Of course.

Okay, look…the sex? It was nothing short of spectacular. Goddamn! I feel like I’m constantly saying that I’m having the best sex of my life but that’s only because it’s true! I mean, there have certainly been some duds during the past few months but mostly it’s been GREAT! Well, here I go – once again crowing a new “best ever” man. Oh, I can’t base it solely on our first several times (that all happened that first day/night/next morning – yow!) because we’ve probably had sex fifty more times since then and it continues to be exceptional.

I’m simply enjoying someone who is a very excellent match for me, sexually. He’s great at sensing and responding – sometimes being achingly slow and sensual, sometimes being rough & commanding, sometimes letting me take charge, sometimes overwhelming my senses with an orgasmic onslaught. He loves to eat ass and pussy and is truly gifted in the art forms. He goes crazy when his ass is rimmed – something I’d never done before but find to be unobjectionable and very rewarding when he goes completely wild in response. Also, he has an absolutely perfect cock. Just right. Bonus!

Whimsy is poly and has two other girlfriends. Our attitude & philosophy in this area is very similar and we’ve talked openly about it quite a bit. He’s great at communicating and scheduling and I’ve felt absolutely cherished, satisfied and appreciated these past couple of months. He helps me believe that polyamory can work between smart, caring, honest, mature, responsible adults. Right now it’s really, really working for us. And yet, all this ooey, gooey squishy, lovey new relationship energy has me occasionally thinking “hmmm…what would it be like if we were exclusive?” That’s a lifetime of monogamy training talking combined with a man that I am incredibly compatible with and very smitten by. It’s also a whole other topic worth exploring…maybe next time!

xo

--RD