Thoughts About Polyamory

PART 1 – A personal journey

I think what repels most people  about sexual play with people other than their mate is driven by fear or insecurity.  Such as:  what if it turns out she is really turned on by him, and decides she wants to keep on fucking him? (Unspoken fear: because he's more attractive, a better lover/has a bigger cock/makes her come harder)?  (Choose your own insecurity.  It's OK, own it; talk about it.)

A lot of sex in the US, after the "honeymoon" or initial few weeks or months, becomes a routine.  Not that it isn't good.  But monogamy has conditioned us that you can be in love with only one person at a time, so you shudder at the idea of sharing your mate.

One way of getting around that is swapping partners, but that usually happens among couples that are already pretty good friends, and everyone takes care not to "fall in love" with the other person.  That is actually a reasonable first step, but it is still hard to get to.  And "the stars" have to be aligned for one mate to suggest it.

I've been there.  My husband was writing some sexy stories for a free site, and a woman in DC began editing his work, and they became e-friends.  She came here on a visit, and I liked her, but was still insecure, so nothing happened.

But here's a reality:  having sex with a new person, is innately exciting.  It makes you feel desired, sexy, and hot.  It's like rekindling the kind of sex you had with your mate in the first weeks.  And y'know what?  It doesn't do anything negative to your sex life as a couple; in fact, the hottest sex I've had with my husband is when I've just had another guy.  I'm still wet and excited, and it gives us both an erotic thrill…kind of "illicit," even though everyone is truthful (so it's not cheating). 

Maybe that's because he was the one who decided to have me take a lover.

We recognized that our libidos were not as high after 15 years.  And he decided that I should become his slave.  We are both strong feminists, and the politics bothered us.  But after all, it's just a form of sexual play:  fantasy.  So I signed a contract (legally unenforceable, of course), was collared, and tattooed with the Chinese character for "slave" on my butt.  (It hurt a lot; turns out that's one of the worst places in terms of pain.)

Here's something interesting.  I work out at a gym every morning, and didn't try to hide the tattoo.  Two or three times a week a woman would ask me what the tattoo meant, and I would tell her.  And invariably she was excited and complimentary.  Women were fascinated that I was openly a slave.  And frankly, many were envious.