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“You know you look like you’re going to cry when you’re about to cum,” Leo told me after we’d had sex Saturday night. “I always think that with you. It’s your tell.”

I’ve been seeing Leo – that guy Pup and I had that incredible threesome with over the summer – since right after the election. (Call it a means of coping?) 

I like him a lot. We have good chemistry. He’s covered in tattoos but he can pull off a suit. He’s got a serious grown-up job in a field that he’s been in for ten years but has one of those mountain man beards. I like people who can occupy dualities like that. 

Our date on Saturday was a little bizarre. He’d called my bluff about saying I’d be a good workout buddy, so Saturday afternoon found me in Pup’s car, getting dropped off at Leo’s gym with my overnight bag. We worked out together, showered, and went out for pizza and beer. Maybe that’s counter-intuitive to the workout, but whatever.

After an attempt to incredibly belatedly catch up on House of Cards was cut short by us just making out on his couch, we ended up in bed. I was wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties with the intention of sleeping in them after, lying between his legs, my back against his chest and stomach. Leo had one arm around my waist, the other draped across my torso. He’d recently got one of those handheld, cordless hitachis and was teasing me with it, intermittently turning it up a little too high to have a laugh when I whined and tried to squirm away from it.

He slid out from under me to slip his fingers inside me, easing more in before sliding them out to replace them with his cock. He’d made a comment earlier in the week that he might be too exhausted from his week to have sex when we got together. And, naturally, I gave him hell for it as he pulled my legs up and hooked them over his shoulders. I liked the way my bare skin looked against Leo’s, his chestpiece framed by my thighs. His skin darker, inked. 

“I knew you were going to fuck me tonight,” I taunted. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself.”

“You’re such a brat, Ivy,” he murmured.

“I know,” I replied between moans. “What are you going to do about it?”

Leo reached over and grabbed the hitachi, setting it back on my clit as his thrusts grew more vigorous. My shoulder slapped against his headboard. My body shook. I came. Then came again.

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Whipping Post, Epilogue

That night, we all went back to my place and fell asleep in my bed. By we all, I mean Pup, Saltine and I.

In the morning, we sort of ended up lazily touching each other, which turned into us all kissing and, well.

When I contacted Sir and checked that it was okay if I fucked Saltine, he replied with “sure but I thought you thought they were obnoxious.” 

Which yes but SORRY sometimes I can’t help myself. So we fucked around until we got hungry, and I walked into my kitchen to make breakfast. I could see through the doorway Pup still fucking Saltine in my bed, and it tapped into some weird mix of compersion and my mild mild mild cucking fantasy that made the encounter both sweet and hot. 

Afterwards, I ended up back in bed with them, Pup fucking me while Saltine watched. “I’m jealous,” Saltine said, and I thought they meant of me until they added, “I want to fuck her like that, Daddy.” (Yeah, Saltine and Pup had a tiny bit of a Daddy/little dynamic.)

I felt myself blushing as Pup pushed my face into my pillow. “You want them to fuck you?”

“M…maybe one day,” I stammered out. But I realized after Pup punished me for sassing him by pulling out and slapping my pussy, and Saltine got mean and told him he should do it again that yeah, okay, maybe I wanted to fuck this person sometime.

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Whipping Post, Part Seven

While I was coming down, I realized that the girl with the cute butt getting tied up and spanked was the friend I came with. Yeah, the friend who almost didn’t come and said she was just going to watch. I was insanely proud.

When she was finished, we went and sat down on the couches to talk about it. And though I was trying to be attentive and supportive, I couldn’t help but keep glancing over to watch Pup and Saltine. Particularly, Saltine.

Like I’ve said, I’d never been interested in Saltine before. Saltine was, in my opinion, too young – yes, nineteen is too young for me – and I found them a little naive and, yeah, kind of obnoxious. But I don’t know. They were gorgeous. They had a cute, fit body. And the qualities about them that previously annoyed me or made me jealous were suddenly becoming really attractive.

So, naturally, I was totally kicking myself.

Also like

Standard

Sir is on a date right now with the girl he’s been seeing out here and they just had goodbye sex (he’s headed to the states with me for a little while soon!!) He’d asked me if he could do this, and I gave him the okay on both counts of going on the date and having sex.

Meanwhile, I’ve been sitting home eating mashed potatoes and drinking sake. 

But tbh the fact that I am really okay with this coupled with my only upset being I wish he and I could’ve chilled out together tonight while his roommate is out and his apartment is empty is a really good sign. So hurrah poly progress?

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As I’ve said before, Saltine was eighteen years old when I met them. And as I’ve said before, I don’t like to date people that young.

I had genuinely no problem with Pup going out with them, but I had zero intentions of getting involved. I found Saltine pretty childish in the few interactions I had with them, in the way that I was when I was their age. Precocious but still young, too smart for their own good. So, on the one hand, I could relate, but on the other I was like ok mama has no time to get mixed up with this child.

After Pup and Saltine hooked up, I ran into Saltine at a munch. I had been perfectly prepared to be cordial. I was happy Pup was getting out there since his breakup, and I was glad things were going well.

But Saltine came on super strong, in a way that was so blunt it was alarming. When they’d walked away, my friend said kiddo needed to chill out. I had to agree.

However, Saltine most definitely did not chill out. And Pup, kind of new to the practice of dating two individuals and calling neither one of them a primary, was not yet accustomed to setting boundaries. So the night I came over to meet Pup’s good friend, guess who was already at his house and on his couch: Saltine.

I shouldn’t have felt entitled to anything, but I did. I’d seen Pup through a pretty big breakup. We’d been seeing each other for almost five months at that point. And then there was just this person traipsing in for what my traditional little brain had categorized as a pretty big milestone: meeting the best friend. 

So I was annoyed, but I thought if I vocalized that I’d come across as thewet blanket or selfish. Especially with Saltine being so down for stuff. They’d been interested in hooking up with me, and I had not returned that interest. They were clearly easier to deal with on paper: down for threesomes, down with hanging out all together like this. I needed time. I needed fair warning. If I was going to show up somewhere and Saltine was going to be there, I needed to know ahead of time. Saltine proably didn’t need that. 

And so intestead of taking care of myself and asking Pup to talk in the next room, I decided to turn on way too much shade and basically ignore Saltine. I just spoke directly to Pup’s friend, and after his friend had left, I whipped out a book from my bag and started reading it on the couch rather than attempting to engage Saltine in any kind of conversation. 

To make matters only worse, there was a play party coming up. I lived a convenient distance from the venue, and so Saltine asked if we could all go to my place after and just sleep over. I also had, as it turned out, the biggest bed.

Dumbfounded and not wanting to be the partypooper, I agreed. But internally I was kicking myself like mother of fuck what did I just agree to.

Eventually, and I honestly do not know how it happened, but Pup and Saltine wound up on the couch with my while I started reading. And then Saltine ended up taking Pup’s cock out or maybe Pup just took his cock out? I genuinely do not remember. But basically the two of them were pretty hot and bothered and bursting with new relationship energy and I was like

Bottom line, I should have been assertive. But I wasn’t. And instead of even just asking them to stop or going home, I told them to keep going and that I didn’t want to ruin their fun. Which was totally stupid on my part, but I was pretty insecure abut the whole thing. Saltine was young and hot and exciting, down for just about anything. I didn’t want to be the boring one. It’s hard not to feel like everything is going to be a comparison. 

So I literally gave the okay to them having sex while I was there. And it was so weird. Because I was essentially this dog:

It wasn’t until the next day until all the feelings came flooding to the surface and I found words for them. And I ended up texting Pup novel after novel of upset and anger and outrage. Saltine was not sleeping at my house, I said. And if Saltine was at his place when I was coming over, he’d better tell me. How dare the two of them impose upon me like that and make me feel as if I were the eternal partypooper if I didn’t go along with every ridiculous plan or impulse, I’d said. Pup apologized and promised he’d establish better boundaries, though I conceded that I should have articulated my discomfort better.

After that, all that was left was to talk to Saltine. We made a plan for coffee later that week. Naturally, I was freaked out. But more on that later.

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polyamorous-living:

Haha – This made me chuckle

Follow: Polyamorous Definition

Legitimately my favorite thing to do for a while when Sir texted me pics with a girl he was seeing was to be like, “WHO THE HELL IS SHE?” and pretend to freak out.

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Unfortunately, I’ve got family coming for the next five days (why?) and so napping will be sporadic slash probably not a thing. And it sucks because it’s the side of the family I like less and that requires a fuckton more work.

Even more unfortunately, it’s the side of the family that isn’t poly-aware, so I can’t hang out with Pup at all now that I actually have free time. 

Send help.

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The fact is that while I’m mostly comfortable posting about the times I’ve been fucked over or been wronged by partners on here – after all, this blog is mostly an exercise in catharsis and processing – I struggle when it comes to admitting the times I’ve messed up.

I realized that I skipped it in proper order, though I’m not sure if it was conscious. I knew it was either before I went to see Sir for Thanksgiving or before the holidays. Part of it may have just been that it was a long time ago, part of it that I’m a little ashamed and anxious to put this here.

So, before Thanksgiving I was hanging out with Pup in his bed. It was a lazy weekend morning, and the sun was pouring in softly through the window. We were naked. Pup rolled me onto my stomach and climbed on top of me. He started teasing his cock over my slit.

In early October, I started the pill. In late October, Pup and I started having sex. Before that, Sir and I used condoms and so, when Pup and I started having sex, so did we. I’d never been on any other birth control before, and so I had never had vaginal sex without a condom.

So Pup was teasing me by pushing his cock between my legs and running it along my slit. I was really aroused, I could feel myself practically dripping onto him, could feel his thrusts become more liquid and easy.

“Do you want it?” he asked. “Just a little bit?”

I buried my face in the pillow. There’s a version of me that very clearly said that this was highly irresponsible and not something I had talked out with Sir, had even done with Sir. And I wish I could say that was how this went. But I got carried away. “Yeah,” I said, “I want it.”

It felt so good it took more longer than I’m proud to admit to ask him to stop. There was a point where I realized what I was doing and how I was wrong, a point remembering getting in an argument with Sir last spring where I said getting carried away wasn’t a real excuse. I didn’t tell him to stop right when I realized how damaging this was. But, eventually, I did.

We talked about it. We said the same things I’d once written off as bullshit. We got carried away. It felt too good to stop. We weren’t thinking.

I dreaded calling Sir. After all, I’d gotten so furious with him when he had come to me to admit to something similar. But I did. I thought that was just going to end it. And while he was upset, we talked about it. He forgave me just about right away, and we had a long conversation about both incidents. Our slip-ups, if you will, his and mine. Though I’m not proud of what I did, I’m proud to have a partner who was understanding and another who knew why what we did wasn’t okay and felt genuine remorse.

I’ve been scared to post this, but I feel part of good non-monogamy is accountability. So I’m being accountable here. I slipped up. He and I had negotiated condom use when it came to Pup, and I overstepped that. Luckily, some good came out of it in that we had this talk. But it’s also maybe important to know that people do fuck up, and a lot of a successful relationship like this isn’t just abiding by the rules (though you should do that, yo), but how you handle the fuck ups when they happen.