Pup arrives at my house and rings the doorbell. I’d just been at his place a few hours ago.
Me: What are you doing here?
Pup: I texted you. I needed to get my toy bag.
Me: Didn’t Saltine just go over to your place? We were just texting.
Pup: Yeah.
Me: Then why are you over here? Go be with Saltine.
Pup: …all my condoms are in the toy bag.
Me: This is going on my stupid blog.
ethical nonmonogamy
I’ve been putting off making this post because I always hate writing about the tough stuff.
Back in October and early November, Sir and I were having a little trouble. He was in the awkward position of being about to move but wanting to explore kink/poly stuff. And though I encouraged him, he kept snagging on the fact that he would be gone in a few months. To top things off, his other main partner had moved away.
As a result, there was a little bit of understandable bitterness. But, I ended up feeling awkward and evasive, like the problem wasn’t Sir’s own frustration with his situation but that I had somehow wronged him by being with other people. I felt guilty, and more than that, worried that he would become resentful from me and that this would ruin our relationship.
Instead of articulating this to him, I just started walking on eggshells and avoiding talking about poly. I hid behind excuses and tried to deflect away from the things I was doing for fear of upsetting him. I didn’t want to lose what I had, and so I just pretended I didn’t have it.
The tension came to a head the night when he was complaining to me about the dilemma of starting to like someone but feeling like everything was coming to an end too soon, and was therefore useless. Feeling guilty and anxious, I lied, said I was going to sleep, and went to Pup’s place instead to mess around. Instantly, I felt awful and, on my way home, called Sir to tell him what I had done and that I had been avoiding him because of my fear of having to choose between his happiness/security and non-monogamy.
“Okay,” Sir said. “Okay, we need to talk about this.”
And, finally, we did.
Going on a date tonight with a guy that seems super cool.
But blahhh.
What’s it say about me that the thing that gets me most about this gif is the wedding ring?
The night before Halloween, Pup and I awkwardly scheduled me going over to his place to fuck him. The afternoon leading up to it, I was stupidly nervous. I felt like I was losing my virginity all over again – having sex with a non-primary partner without my primary partner being present. I was worried that somehow both relationships would be weirdly affected and was swilling around a thousand stupid anxieties while I got dressed and did my hair.
“Wish you could hold my hand while he fucks me,” I texted Sir, which was only half true. Part of me really wanted to go this alone. Call it an opportunity to grow and whatnot.
I ended up texting Heart while I did my makeup, going through lingerie options with her and getting playfully badgered about how late I was running. We came up with the idea of just wearing my black lace onesie, a pair of black thigh highs and a pair of black heels with just my coat on top, which ended up proving to be only semi-adequate in keeping me warm as I walked to Pup’s place.
He ended up not getting my text that I was coming over, and when I arrived he was in the middle of trying on his Halloween costume. So, yeah, I show up with my hair looking cute and in a long coat and a sexy pair of heels and then Pup is standing there in a costume. Because I cannot begin to describe to you guys that for however much you all insist my sex life is hot, it’s usually 500% awkward.
When we got to his bedroom, he gently pushed me down onto his bed and unzipped my coat. “Look at you,” he murmured against my clavicle. At that point, I was just a person-shaped cluster of butterflies and raw nerves.
That said, there isn’t much to say about the sex. That’s the thing about sex. We build up a lot around it, puff it up like cotton candy, and when you actually get down to it the real substance is just as gossamer. It was fun and good, but it didn’t change much of anything. It wasn’t revelatory. It didn’t break down my relationship with Sir. It didn’t suddenly bump up my relationship with Pup.
Except, afterwards, we ended up doing a really intense scene. Maybe I’ll tell you about that. It’s one of the darker thoughts I linger on when I’m in a certain mood.
In late October, I called up Sir and asked him if I could have sex with Pup. We’d had a few difficult conversations about it, and I was a little nervous to be sleeping with somebody who wasn’t him without him around. Previously, in our non-monogamous arrangement, the sex I’d had with other partners was right in front of him. This was going to be different and strange and maybe awesome but definitely a big leap of faith on both of our parts into a new area of our poly.
We had a lot of talks that made me feel like I was running into a wall, then ones that felt like progress but quickly petered off into difficulty. I often felt guilty asking for this when Sir and I had our own issues to deal with regarding his move and how that would affect our relationship. He was dealing with his own associated problems with the move independent of our relationship, and so I felt impossibly greedy asking to take this step.
But, when the conversation of “hey, can I do this with Pup on this very specific date?” came up, Sir was surprisingly receptive. Maybe it was the fact that he had started to express an interest in getting more physical with some of his partners – we often are most lenient with each other when we’re both having our needs met – or maybe I had managed to successfully convince him that I was sure that this was what I wanted.
“Are you asking me for permission to fuck that boy, sweetheart?” He asked me on the phone. He was using that tone of voice he uses when he plays Daddy.
I blushed and even though he wasn’t in front of me, I looked at my feet. “Uh huh.”
“Are you going to use a condom?” He asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Well, you’d better be a good girl and show him that I taught you well,” he said. “You’d better be a good little fuck.”
Back in the fall, I went apple picking with Pup and some of his friends. I had met a few in passing, but I’d never sort of been out with a non-primary partner’s friends as a “date.” I was a little nervous about sort of making a bad impression as the girl their friend was dating who already has a boyfriend, and I was a little scared too of being seen by people I knew. At the time, I still wasn’t out as poly to basically anybody.
We were having a lovely time, thankfully. His friends seemed to like me and I was having fun. While we were waiting for some cider, I took hold of Pup’s hand and noticed the scar on his thumb. “That’s healing up all right,” I said.
“Oh god,” his friend said. “You’re the girl he bled on?”
I blushed and shook my head. “Yeah, I’m the girl he bled on.”
“Woah,” another said. “We all just assumed that was the end of it. How did he even bounce back from that?”
So, yeah. I guess I’ll always be the girl he bled on.
Pup and I were hanging around at my place when the subject of sex came up. It had a few times before, but there had been the issue of me not yet being on birth control and then the issue of Pup having his relationship problems.
Okay, I should clarify that hanging out means that he was sitting on my couch and I was sucking his cock.
Anyway, I pulled him from my mouth and gave him a teasing smile. “Do you want to fuck me with this?” I asked.
Pup pulled me up and into his lap. “Do you want me to?”
I smirked and ground against his lap. Besides the material of my dress that had fallen between my legs, there was nothing else separating him from just entering me. “I asked you first.”
“I do,” he said. His hands settled on my hips, “can I?”
“I’ll have to talk to Sir,” I said. “In the meantime, I can just tease you with it.”
I continued grinding myself against him, until Pup just smiled and picked me up by the hands on my hips, threatening to thrust up inside me. I slapped him playfully on the shoulder and wiggled out of his grasp. A few moments later, I resumed teasing him, and he once again pulled me up and feigned preparing to penetrate me.
“You should talk to your boyfriend, then,” Pup said.
I smiled. “Maybe I will.”
Months ago, I sent Sir this gif, saying that it made me really wet. “What do you think she had to do?” he asked, which only made me blush.
That night, I had plans to get together with Pup, and about an hour beforehand Sir texted me saying that I should wear something I didn’t mind losing. “Something cute,” he added. I found a bra that was starting to wear a bit at the straps, an old pair of tights that were ripped at the toe, a blouse that was a bit too big on me that I’d used for a costume. I couldn’t find anything beyond the tights to wear on bottom, so I just found a skirt that matched and sent a picture to Sir. “All right,” he replied, “I’ll tell him not to mess up the skirt. Put your hair in pigtails.”
“What’s going on?” I texted him, getting a little nervous. I still braided my hair, and made sure to wear a long coat over my outfit. Without it, I kind of looked like a schoolgirl or some porny parody of a teacher and I felt a little silly wearing it.
Sir didn’t respond, and a few minutes later, Pup had arrived. “Nice hair,” he mussed the top of my head. I shot him a glare. “I figured we would go get some coffee.”
I shifted nervously. “Are you sure you don’t just want to stay here?” I didn’t want to take off my coat in public.
“No, come on,” he led me down the stairs and over to a cafe near my place. When the waitress asked if we wanted the drinks for here, I quickly replied that they were to go. When someone I knew came over to say hi and comment on my hair, I nearly died on the spot.
We got our drinks and ended up walking around outdoors. Eventually, we found our way to a few empty streets and I started getting a little bratty. It’s my usual reaction to a situation where I feel vulnerable, and I was feeling pretty vulnerable at that moment.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to stick you behind that car and fuck your face,” Pup said and grabbed my arm.
I huffed and tried to tug it away. “Aren’t you still chaste or whatever?”
“No,” he replied and pulled me along. “I don’t think so.”
When we got back to my place, I’d barely locked the door when Pup pushed me down onto the carpet. He pulled my coat open and pushed it off my shoulders, tossing it aside. I struggled underneath him, trying my hardest to hide a smirk, but stopped short when I saw him take a knife out of his pocket and flick it open.
“He told me not to mess up the skirt, but it’s not my fault if you keep moving,” Pup said and flipped my skirt up around my waist with his free hand. He grabbed a fistful of the material of my tights and sliced it away with the knife. Slipping the knife under the hole he’d made, he cut a slit down my leg. “I like this,” he murmured to himself and I saw his eyes light up.
I hadn’t done anything with genuine fear involved in quite a while, and maybe because this was new territory with him, my eyes welled up with tears. It was weirdly satisfying cry – honestly even erotic – but Pup still stopped and checked in. “I’m good, really,” I answered, “I’m enjoying myself.”
Pup reached up and pulled open my blouse, chuckling when he encountered my bra. He took the bow at the front between his two fingers and gave it a little tug. “Cute,” he teased and sliced it away before slipping the knife under one strap, then the other.
“Aww, is someone scared?” Pup taunted as he returned to shredding the tights from my body with his knife and free hand. Curls of stray, torn nylon were spread around me on the carpet. “Scared I’m going to slip and hurt you?” He set the dull end of the knife against my cheek and I sucked in an anxious breath. His hand slipped down between my legs and he laughed, “you don’t seem like you mind it too much.” He closed his knife and returned it to his pocket. “Get in your bedroom,” he tapped my side with his foot. “Now.”
I don’t remember all the particulars of what we did, beyond the fact that mostly it was a lot of beating and me sucking his cock. I ended up on my knees by the side of my bed by the end, exhausted. Pup got up to his feet and walked over to his discarded pants. He took out his wallet, thumbed through it, and took out a twenty. Moving back in front of me, he crouched down and pushed the bill into my mouth. I watched in shock as he pulled his clothes on.
“I can’t take this,” I said as I tried to give it back. “This isn’t…”
“It’s not my money,” he replied. “So tell your boyfriend I said thanks for the blowjob.”
I still held out the twenty. “He gave you money?”
Pup patted my head, “he said he’d reimburse whatever I decided to give you. I meant to break this at the coffee shop.” Out of wanting to get out of there fast, I’d paid for both of our drinks. “Probably more than you deserve.”
“I can’t…” I objected and watched him walk towards the door.
He grinned, “bye, whore. Thank Craftsmate for me, would you?”
He had intended to just step out for a minute and then come back and give me aftercare, but I was so subspaced and confused and frustrated that I kind of freaked out when he went to pretend to leave. While he took care of me, I texted Sir and thanked him for letting me realize this fantasy I’d had with Pup. It required a lot of trust and generosity on his part. I count it as one of his and my biggest poly successes.
“Please take the money back,” I said when Pup went to tuck me in and head out. When he shook his head, I huffed and added, “I’ll just use it when we go apple picking, then.”
“It’s your whore money,” he replied and kissed my forehead.