Busy

Sorry to all of you. I've received a few emails over the last few weeks asking me where I've gone. The truth? To work. I've been promoted and am now working 50-60 hours a week. That, and I'm seeing four people. I rarely get on my computer these days. 

I will try my best to write some wonderful new stories soon. Thanks for being patient. 

Polyamory

The boyfriend and I broke up just three weeks after trying monogamy.

Wow, that really was a disaster. What a mistake. An attempt at monogamy not only ended my romantic and sexual relationship with Liam, but also our friendship. That's a shame because he was my best friend in this city.

It's okay, there are more people out here who I call my friends. Tough, though.

It's now been almost two months since we broke up and I'm feeling less scared but more careful since my reality check.

The monogamy was obviously a big failure. I'm definitely some kind of poly at heart. I've been living my life believing I'm polysexual, but I think now I want to try out polyamory.


I'm pretty enamored by a sweet fellow named Peterson (a pre-school teacher! how cute!). I feel I've made it pretty clear I don't want monogamy, but I haven't made it clear that I don't want a boyfriend yet. I'm hoping he doesn't pop the relationship question. I don't want to commit to an emotionally exclusive relationship, because I don't want to cut myself off from possibilities with other people. I'm a giving person and I feel I have the capacity to love many people.

We'll see how this pans out.

My Reality Check

It's been a long time since I've posted. Sorry, everybody. I got a new job and have been working 50 hours a week. Both my moped and bike have now become out of service, so I commute by foot now, and that takes a long time. This means I have pretty much not spent any time writing or on the computer at all recently.

I recently wrote a post about finally hooking up with a friend who I've like for a long time. Well, we decided to try the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing out. It's been great fun! I really like this guy and definitely gain a lot of emotional fulfillment out of being with him.

We decided to keep the relationship open under the conditions that (1) We always use a condom, and (2) we tell each other every time we have a new partner. This was a great setup.

But...there's a problem. I neglected to tell Liam that I'd had unprotected sex with somebody before we started dating (well, the condom broke). When this information finally surfaced, it was a large rift in trust. Having an open relationship when you can't trust your partner is hard. So both times I told him about new partners, he had a really difficult time receiving the information out of fear that I was lying about my use of protection with them, and out of fear that I wasn't using any protection. To quell his fears, I decided to get tested on everything.

I went down to the local Planned Parenthood and was shocked to discover that Rick Perry stripped Texas of all its state funding. Therefore, all services were full-priced. I dished out a hundred and fucking ninety dollars on credit (money I don't have) and in exchange was tested on every goddamn STI known to man. They said everything looked good but they'd get back to me in three days with all the results.

So yesterday rolled around and I was woken up by a phone call from the doctor.

Positive for chlamydia. Fuck.

Well that's gross. I feel tainted, irresponsible, and stupid. Luckily the fix is easy. I just have to take one little pill and then it's gone forever. It's easier than treating a UTI. But, for the next two weeks I can't drink at all and I also can't have any sex, not even while using a condom with my boyfriend Liam who surely has it too.

I thought back to all the people that I've fucked in the last 60 days, and Landon is the only one with whom it has been unprotected who didn't have clean paperwork to show me. So, he's the one who gave it to me. Though I haven't seen him in over a month, I called him to tell him that he had chlamydia and he needed to get treated and couldn't have sex for the next two weeks.

Well shit, he already knew. In fact, he knew WHEN we were having sex that he had it. And when he saw the condom was broken, he neglected to tell me to get myself fucking tested and treated. I mean, dude. It's fucking chlamydia. It's not a big deal at all. There's no reason to lie about fucking chlamydia if you come inside a gal. Just tell her so she can get the easy-peasy antibiotic without spreading it around to everybody else.

The reason why I stopped seeing Landon over a month ago was because he started having unprotected sex with another girl without getting her tested, and so he was putting himself and myself at risk. I later found out that she is Liam's ex (Liam is my boyfriend... small fucking world). After Liam broke up with her, she ended up fucking a friend of his who is HIV positive and also positive for Hep C, without using a condom any time.

So, I told Landon that the gal he was fucking was probably positive for HIV or Hep C or both just in case he wasn't already aware. Of course he broke down and freaked out and now he's going to get himself tested in two months to find out if he has either.

Shit, I dodged a bullet with him, because I stopped seeing him right before he started seeing her.

But the point is, through all my promiscuity, I got chlamydia and narrowly missed getting HIV and Hep C. That shit is fucked up. And I'm scared out of my mind. So is Liam. What a reality check.

And so we came up with a solution.

Monogamy.

Jesus fucking Christ. I'm not excited about it. But I'm scared of STIs right now, and so is he, and the emotional fulfillment that I get from him is worth the sexual frustration that I will most likely be experiencing in monogamy.

We need time for his trust to rebuild in me. I mean, first I told a lie, and then second I gave him an STI. Yeah, some trust definitely needs to be rebuilt. Then of course we need to figure out a way to really, 100% protect ourselves against STIs with other people. My guess is it will be months before the idea of opening our relationship back up is thrown on the table again.

We'll see how long this lasts. I wonder if I can actually successfully do monogamy again. I really care about Liam, so I will give it my best shot.

Point is... get yourself and every partner you have tested every three months, and ALWAYS use a condom. Don't trust what anybody tells you about if they're clean or not. They do not know. I didn't know; I didn't have any symptoms, and I trusted the empty words of my partners. Therefore, I got chlamydia and unknowingly spread it to other people.

Good luck in this scary world!!

Q&A - Age ranges

<Redacted> asks: "I'm curious about your position regarding older vs. younger partners and your experience. Please make that your next blog post!"

I love the quote by Jimi Hendrix, "Age is not a number; it's a state of mind."

I think that's true. There is a year a person is born, and there is a number which represents the number of years a person has lived, but I do not think that's what age means. Age is the state of mind a person takes on, and is a way to generally categorize ourselves. We tend to socialize and bond best with people of our own age group, because we are in similar life stages. For instance, somebody who is 40 years old will most likely have had far more life experiences than me and a totally different take on life philosophies. I've never experienced what it means to be married, have children, witness my parents die, raise a family, buy a home, etc. These are all major life steps that I so far have not taken, and therefore there is a level that I will not be able to relate with people who have taken those steps.

From a purely sexual standpoint, I think age is completely irrelevant. If you're attracted to somebody, and they're attracted to you, and everybody is consenting and everything is legal, then go for it! The oldest person I have been with is 34. That's a 14 year age gap. He's lived over 1/3 as long a life as I have. He's seen way more and is in a totally different place than I have. The sex is unbelievably fantastic, but I could not be in a relationship with him. There is just too much that separates us socio-emotionally.

On that note, I really can't stand people my own age. I hear many other 20-year-olds saying that to try to make themselves look cool and mature, but it's legitimately true. With the exception of my best friends who is 19 (she's absolutely amazing and defies expectations in maturity), I can't stand people my own age. Most 20-year-olds think they know everything about the world and think they're bulletproof. They're spiteful, jealous, selfish, narcissistic... I mean, the list goes on. Social interactions with other 20-year-olds is like a nightmare with me. They're still children.

So the idea of a regular 30-year-old dating a regular 20-year-old seems fucked up to me because most 20-year-olds are intolerable, and that 30-year-old would really have to be compromising on a number of levels to stoop down to the mindset of a 20-year-old.

However, and this may be completely pretentious of me to say, I've left that life stage that most 20-year-olds are in. I've been in a 3 year relationship with a person I lived with, I've dealt with many life traumas, I've experienced a reckless and abusive childhood, and have overall been through a lot more than most people. I grew up fast. That's just how it is. Therefore, most of my friends are in their late twenties or early thirties. Holden, who I mentioned in my last blog post, is 29. I know for a while his friends made fun of him for spending time with somebody so young, but as they've gotten to know me, they understand why.

There is huge social stigma around age differences when you're dealing with anybody under 35 (once you hit that mark, you can date upwards of 50 or 60 and not many people would bat an eyelash). But I say, if you feel you have a true connection with somebody of a totally different age, don't let social standards drive your actions. Let your own intuition and good sense help you to make the decisions that are right for you and your potential partner(s).

To conclude:

I once had a couch surfer who listed his age as 108 and said that he will never reveal the true number to anybody. He had a youthful spirit and many lines on his face. I really have no idea how old he is. I'd say as young as 25 or as old as 40. In the end, it didn't matter. He was a joy to be around!

Update


<Redacted> asks: "Is there an age that's too old for you?"

Well, for the most part, I am not attracted to men who are reaching their upper thirties. Biologically we're designed to be attracted to people who look our own age, and that instinct probably kicks in for me when I'm interacting with men right around age 35. However, last night I had an amazing dream that I was fucking a 37-year-old who I've wanted since we met. He's absolutely beautiful, but he certainly looks not a day older than 30.

Point is, if you're sexy, your age doesn't matter. You just stop being quite as sexually attractive in my eyes starting around mid-thirties. As I get older, that ceiling will obviously raise.

Tornado Debauchery and Deep Emotions

For all you horn-dogs who don't care about background story and wanna just get to the juicy details (not saying there's a problem with that), search for the phrase, "moment of truth" and read from there. This is a very vanilla yet explicit story. But if you'd like the full, passionate effect, I suggest you read from the beginning.  

I may not seem like the relationship type, and I may love shallow, meaningless, raw sexual relations... but I'm totally head over heels for somebody.

I moved back to my hometown seven weeks ago due to a family emergency after being gone for a few years. I left a life I loved in a city I loved to move back to a city I thought I'd never live in again. It was a hard transition. Liam is the first friend I made here.

I met him off OKCupid of all places. We had a first date and it was really fantastic! He just sent me a one-lined message (which I almost never respond to) that said something along the lines of, "Hey wanna go fuck some shit up tomorrow night?" or something -- he was referring to a block of text in my profile where I mentioned I loved doing hooligan activities, like graffiti and such.

So I gave him my number and on my second or third night in town, we met up with a few cans of spray paint and "fucked some shit up" -- we painted stencils of Frida Kahlo on the sidewalk -- for a few hours and then went to an all-night restaurant with our hands totally covered in paint. The conversation was great, the activities were great, and by the morning we decided to have a second date.

Q&A - Anal Sex

<Redacted> asks: "I want to fuck my girlfriend in the ass, but she had a bad anal experience with an ex boyfriend of hers (like so many women) and thinks she's turned off from it forever. How can she get comfortable having anal sex again?"


This definitely happened to me. I tried anal sex for the first time when I was fifteen years old with my first boyfriend. I let him do all the research on how to go about it and then we tried it together -- he managed to wiggle his way inside, but after that it just felt like pooping. Pretty awful. I thought I'd never do it again.

Speed up to five years later (now), and I freaking love anal sex!  I can usually get pounded as hard and as fast as in most porn. I even think that after all this time, I'm finally ready for DP (which will happen in January!)

So how did I get to this point?

Beef Jerky

I pulled up on my little moped to Jeremy's house quivering with anticipation. It had been eight days since I'd seen him, and eight days since I'd been penetrated. I normally can't even wait more than two days, but I've been so busy climbing and have also been out of town, so it just hasn't happened.

He opened the door as I approached the front of his house; I looked up and smiled at how incredibly good-looking he is. Jeremy is tall, has dark, curly hair, and a beautiful face with a strong jawline. He also probably has the best body of anybody I've slept with.

I stepped in and began to remove my many layers -- it's unbelievably cold outside for riding a moped around. First came off the rain jacket -- then we hugged. Then came off the next two jackets -- then we kissed. I put my freezing cold fingers to his neck and he shuddered a bit and asked me how I was doing. "COLD!" I responded. He felt my bright red ears after I took off my fleece hat and told me I should be wearing a helmet. I asked him where would I get the money for such a purchase?

I was now standing in front of this gorgeous man in my pink leotard and the most ridiculous looking slacks that were ever made. (If you're curious, they're black, high-waisted pleated dress pants that hug my ankles and have heel straps.) We walked back to his room making small talk.

"So where have you been out of town?"

"Oh, out west to <redacted> where I climbed some of the best granite I've ever seen! I mean, really world-class climbing out there!" I responded as I took of my shoes.

He grabbed my shoulders and bent down to kiss me. I couldn't help but smile because of the intense excitement that I felt at the fact that I WAS ABOUT TO GET LAID.

I pushed him over toward the bed. He started to laugh and resisted my movements. He asked me more questions and tried to have more conversation with me. Instead of replying with words, I just unbuckled my belt and started to remove my pants. I sat on the bed and pulled him on top of me.