Sex, Marriage, Love

I love to talk about sex; it's been that way since before I ever even had sex. When I was 12, I was wandering around the library, and found myself in the romance section. I picked a book that sounded interesting, and read a good half of it right there. When I found out that it had sex scenes in it, I was amazed! I mean seriously, who would have though that a book with such explicit sex scenes written in it would be in the library? AND I was able to check them out without any kind of permission from my parents! To this day, I am grateful that books aimed at adults that may contain sex and/or violence in them are not restricted to adults only. Although my mom knew what I was reading - I assume she knew what was in those books - and she never once protested. I think she was too darn happy I was such a voracious reader to care what I was reading, lol!

As I grew up, I read so many Historical Romance Novels in which the heroine vowed to never get married, only to be forced, coerced, or just plain romanced into it anyway, that I guess it only seemed natural that I would also vow to never get married. In my case, I announced to everyone that I wanted children, just not the MAN that fathered them. My reasoning was this; my stepdad was an alcoholic, and yelled at me constantly. My real dad was an alcoholic that didn't really care about me. My grandfather was an alcoholic that had apparently been not so nice to my mom, but was never mean to me... still, his marriage to my grandma did not seem to be built on love and happiness. And then there was my uncle... he was probably the one man I actually liked to be around as I grew up, and he was always nice and sweet to me, but guess what; he was an alcoholic too, and I was not too blinded by love to see that he was a bear towards my aunt at times. The kind of bear that is grouchy and growly, not the kind that attacks viciously.

You could say that I was very anti-male. I did not have one male in the family I could look up to until my other aunt married, but even then, I was never really close to him, which made it hard to look up to him. So, along with this anti-maleness, I also had this strange thing going on, I always liked, paid attention to, and fawned over the women I saw on TV, and to a lesser degree in real life. I really could not care less what the boys and men on TV were doing, I was interested in the girls and women. But yet... other than one girl who shared my birth date in High School, I never found myself fantasizing about having sex with girls. In my fantasies, I was always having sex with men. You know, the ones from all those stories I read.

Talk about confusion!!! Plus, I really wanted kids, and in my opinion at the time, the sooner the better. Therefore, I needed to dupe some poor schmuck into having sex with me. I waited and waited. I could have had sex with a married man when I was just 12. He was drunk, and I knew that if I let him, he totally would, but I guess I just wasn't ready at 12 (thank the gods!), so I sent him to bed. Now, lest you think badly of my mom for somehow letting me be along with a lecherous drunk married man at the tender age of 12, rest assured that I was spending the night somewhere considered safe, and so was he. No one in their right mind would have considered that the moment we were alone we'd be groping and kissing... except me... and I did the right thing by telling him no. And if I were to be completely honest, a good half of the reason I said no was because I knew the consequences of getting caught would be much more horrible for him than they would have been for me.

Moving on, at 16, I finally got to talk about sex with some girls who had actually done it. I had already started to write 2 romance novels of my own, and sincerely hoped that I would soon have some first hand experience to add. Then I snagged my first boyfriend. I do remember his name, but I don't remember anything else about him, because in the grand scheme of things, he just isn't important. He did indicate that he would have sex with me, and that was all that mattered. One night, my mom, stepdad, and sister all went out to the drive-in movie theater, so I knew I had enough time to finally do it. I'm still not entirely sure how my mom knew, but she did. She didn't really confront me with it, so I didn't know she knew for some time, but she said she knew like the moment they came home.

A little bit after that... I think about 2 weeks, I saw him again, we bumped uglies, and then agreed to go our separate ways. He had a fiancee he had just met the night before, and I didn't care enough about him to care. For me, I cared more that I was the good girlfriend. I had called him every day, I had listened to and talked with him, and it wasn't like I was in love with him, so I thought maybe he might give me a good reference or something, lol!

That night, two of my friends showed up with this guy I had met once before. He had offered to take the three of us out to the movies, and I had nothing better to do, so I was all for it. We watched Multiplicity, which was funny, and then in the car afterwards, I was informed (not so he could hear), that they REALLY wanted to set me up with him. I was always thinking of goal #1 (to have a baby), and thought, why not? We went back to my house and I got permission to spend the weekend at my friend's house. She happened to live with her boyfriend at the time, but my mom didn't know that. I got permission, and we went to her place. The guy just so happened to be her boyfriend's room mate, and so I had just gotten permission to spend the weekend at his house.

He was very sweet, and a perfect gentleman. Even though it was understood that I would be sleeping in his bed, he was just so darn happy to finally have a girlfriend that he wasn't going to push his luck by trying anything inappropriate. I was not so scrupulous. That weekend lasted 4 days, and we did not leave his bed for more than a few minutes at a time in order to eat, pee, or shower together. Guy number one was ok in bed, this guy was AWESOME! During that weekend, I also found out that he - 1. was a virgin, 2. had studied how to please a woman, and learned a lot! 3. was too nervous to "cum," (so much for goal #1) and 4. he was 20... I was still 16... oops!

I never did and never will understand why 16 is the age of consent but that a 20 year old can still be charged with raping a consenting 16 year old. Luckily, it didn't end up like that. Later on, I introduced him to mom, and she loved him. He charmed her with roses, and when she asked me how old he was, the conversation went like this.
Mom: "That's the one you are going to marry, I can feel it. How old is he?"
Me: "18"
Mom "Really? That's a shame. It would have been perfect if he were 20, then you'd be 4 years apart. Your stepdad and I are 4 years apart."
Me: "Oh good, because he's really 20."
I don't remember how mom replied, but it was something like, uh-huh.

I think I already knew at that point in time that I was not into monogamy. Don't get me wrong, I did the good girlfriend thing and never cheated, but I told him straight out that he was so good in bed that others needed to know this too. I told all the girls at work that if they wanted good sex, they HAD to try him. They did not believe me, which is just a shame because the things he could do with his tongue! He came into the McDonald's I worked at once, and told me later that he had never been so embarrassed in his life than when 6 of us girls stopped working completely to stare at and talk about him, despite being busy with a dinner rush. Even the other patrons stared at him trying to figure out what was so special about him. Even then to me, monogamy was... um... a religious belief that had no basis in how I felt. I WANTED to share him with as many girls as would consent. Hell, if I could even charge admission, I'd have been rich! Moving on.

He started talking all serious to me around our 6th month together, like we really were going to be together forever, and get married. My vow to never get married got scared by that, and I dumped him. I don't think I was very nice about it. I mean I tried not to be mean, but I was not in love with him, and he wasn't succeeding in helping me achieve goal # 1.

I moved into an apartment practically the day I turned 18, and there was always a few people staying over that didn't actually live there. For a while, there was this girl that looked so good to me. We all got drunk one night, and at one point I was alone with her. We kissed and kissed and kissed. I have never kissed anyone like that ever again! Normally kissing is not my thing. I'll kiss my hubby, but it's always close-mouthed. This was that passionate, tongue in each other's mouths kind of kissing, and I was in heaven! Another night, we did more than that, but at one point I was somewhat tricked out of bed while a guy took over. I stood there watching them, and I realized that watching was good too. I think I regretted not doing more with her for at least a few years.

I had one other somewhat girlfriend, but mostly goal #1 kept prompting me to jump into bed with guys. Like whatever guy would consent, and obviously I wasn't being safe about it. My count increased to 10 over the course of 5 years, so it's not like I was sleeping around. I look back now and find I can't really remember most of their names. They are probably infinitely glad that I didn't get knocked up, but I was growing seriously frustrated.

One day, I called up that guy, my second and last boyfriend. We had remained friends and occasional lovers over the years, and so he thought nothing of my calling him to chat. He probably hoped I wanted a booty call, as I did that from time to time. During the call I told him how I had just vowed to my best friend that since I was so frustrated by not having a baby yet, I was going to get married to the next man that asked me. I said this because I had had a few men ask that as a joke, but more importantly, this guy is always making jokes, so I figured the natural next step would be for him to respond, "Oh sure you will, would you marry me?" Instead, he directed the conversation elsewhere. I made another comment to give him another chance to take the bait, but he stepped around the trap.

I was frustrated that he wouldn't propose, but I was not going to let him get away, damnit! So, I made a statement that began with, "Then, after you and I are married..." He caught that one. "Wait what?" "I'm serious, we are going to get married." I started planning it, and set a date. April 21st. I insisted that he tell his mom, and she laughed because that was his dad's birthday. That call lasted like 2 hours, lol! As it happens, the date was pushed back, but we DID get married on May 19th 2001... my mom's birthday, lol!

During our engagement, I told him again that I did not expect him to be monogamous, and that he could have sex with anyone he wanted. I only placed one restriction; he had to tell me about it. It didn't have to be beforehand just so long as he told me. I also told him that I hoped he would extend me the same open permission, and at first he did, but only for women. This was ok, as I didn't have any other guys I wanted to have sex with, and there were a few girls I really wanted to tie to my bed! He really thought that there was no way I was serious. He honestly thought that the subject would never come up.

One day, his daughter's mother called him up and told him that her man wasn't doing her like he did, and that she would be willing to let him see his daughter more if he would help her out a bit in the sack. This was weird to him; as an engaged man, society would frown upon him for even considering it. Not so me, I gave him the green light. Even so, I think he assumed it wouldn't happen, but it did. I think he was sure I would be pissed at him, but he really would do anything to spend more time with his little girl, and I honestly - no seriously it's true - I honestly was not mad or jealous. I was happy for him, and thought he was a good daddy.

A year later, I met a woman online, and arranged for my hubby to show her a good time in bed. I am telling you, from the moment we first jumped in the sack together, I have wanted to share him with women everywhere! This man should not be confined to pleasing only one woman for the rest of his life! Doing so would be a disservice to womankind! Not only does the idea of him in bed with another NOT make me jealous, it excites me. Remember, I love to talk about sex. I love hearing him talk about what he did to make another woman squeal, I love to see it when he can manage to get it on tape (or in person) and if I could hear and or see him with another man, I think I would orgasm right on the spot!

By now, I'm sure everyone is thinking, Ah, well of course she doesn't care if he screws another woman, she has stated that she doesn't love him, and only married him to achieve her own goal of having kids. Well, that certainly was true when we first got married, but it is NOT true now. I totally and utterly love this man! We have been married almost 10 years now, and I cannot nor will not live my life without him. Even so, I want to hear and or see him having sex with other women! I set him up with booty calls whenever possible... which is honestly not all that often. He has averaged about one session in bed with another women a year since we got married, and the majority of it was with the girl I mentioned above.

As for me... Yes I have had sex with other men since getting married, but ironically not really with any other women. About 2 years ago, I was told I was a slut because I am not 100% faithful to my husband. I smiled and agreed, because the definition of a slut is someone who will do just about anyone, and it is true, I probably would. That said, I started to think about how slutty I am. I had been married 8 years at that point, and I had only ever had sex with 1 man other than my husband (after getting married). It is now 2, but at that point, I seriously scratched my head and wondered how I could be considered a slut when by definition a slut really sleeps around and I don't. The one man I had had sex with was a good friend of both Hubby and mine, and Hubby knew of and was ok with our occasional romps in the hay.

This just serves to remind me how weird I am, and how horrible society thinks I am. You know what? I don't care! I want to continue having consentual fun when I can, and I want to find at least one more person to love. If someone someday tells me that I am wrong for having a husband and a (hopefully in the future) girlfriend, then I say, "Go be concerned with you own sex life and leave mine alone!"


Polyamorism is not a concept I came up with, nor is it unique to me. Others do it to, and some of those happen to be pagan. See? Though not everyone is both, some are simply poly. I do think that paganism is well suited to polyamorism because the both concepts are about honoring yourself, and loving whomever you choose, openly and honestly. That's really what is all about for me.