Friends, or fuckbuddies?

Definitely the former. I've never been able to make a go of the latter.

Phil and I have been friends for a long time, and have drunk, smoked the evil weed, and talked about women a lot. The four of us (his girlfriend Marcy, plus Misty & me) tried living together for a little while, but it was a disaster. The two MMF threesomes got along well, but the two women were at each other's throats from the beginning.

Before moving in, we had come very close to really fooling around, and Misty saw Marcy and me sharing a more-intimate-than-prudent good-night kiss a few months previous. Misty was happy to fool around with Phil and me, but wanted nothing to do with Marcy, and so we agreed that we would be hands-off as long as we shared the place.

About 2 months after we moved out, I visited Phil & Marcy in their new place, and we finally got as naked as we had been wanting. (This was just a couple of weeks after I came out to Misty as bi, and we talked about having a poly relationship.) It was a blast in every way one might imagine, and has been the 3 subsequent times as well.

At the same time, afterwards we talked about how the thing that made it work was that we were friends first, and enjoyed one another's company. As a result, we can get together without expecting sex--it's just part of the package when it happens.

Marcy tried connecting me with Rena, a friend of hers from work. Rena's a single girl who went a long time in her 30s without sex, and now wants to not have to worry about strings. We all met for drinks, and engaged in some mutually great kissing (before I gave Marcy a ride home to break in the new place she and Phil had moved to...but I digress). Rena & I had lunch and made tentative plans to get together...but it just sort of fizzled. We're a little in touch via e-mail, and I think we're both curious about what it would be like if we were to get naked together. The same thing happened the last time I pursued someone as a fuckbuddy, or friend with benefits--maybe I'm just not wired that way.

So that leaves me with: waking up each morning with Misty (her lowest-common-denominator, that I come home, even late), Phil & Misty as an occasional extra in their bed, Rena as a potential bed-buddy of some sort, and Hypatia, who I think will be a bluntly intimate, flirtatious friend. And if we get to find out what it's like to be naked together, so much the better.

Friendly lunch with benefits?

I seem always to have women friends--I'm sure there's something Freudian in this, but that (as always) is another story. The thing about these women friends is that they're all eminently fuckable, though that almost never turns out to happen. Mostly unavailable, too, for various reasons (mostly, that they tend to be friends with both Misty & me, and discretion in our relationship is paramount).

But sometimes, I find myself flirtatiously enjoying the company of a woman entirely independently of my marriage. That's when things get tantalizing, at least.

Almost 4 years ago, I was at an event, sitting at dinner with Misty, who pointed out someone she thought was attractive about whom I can remember nothing). But I had noticed earlier a young lady with long, dark hair and glasses, and she was in exactly the right position to point her out as a preferred object of my lust. That was that, until later in the evening, Miss X. (who turned out to have a name, something like "Hilary") introduced herself, and we turned out to have a great deal in common.

So on the way home tonight, I mentioned having a nice talk with Hilary, and after asking me to describe her, Misty said "Oh, the one you thought was cute, right?" Um, yep, that would be her. And the conversation went on to other, non-Hilary things. But after a few inquiries, Hilary and I made arrangements to get together for a covert drink.

I thought she was just adorable--I confess to having a type (dark hair and glasses, which describes both of my wives, Hilary, and most other women whom I'm inclined to notice), and lots of tiny freckles. Whenever we got together, I kept noticing this one freckle on Hilary's lip, and I rather understood the Victorian sensuality of limited body parts being on display--she has a birthmark behind her right elbow, which I only saw twice: once at an early breakfast, and once the last time I saw her, this past June. The rest of the time, she wore long sleeves.

Alas, whether it was just because of me personally, or the fact of my marriage, our relationship was strictly platonic, and not even flirtatious. I took her winetasting (a favorite hobby), giving me the perfect chance to test physical boundaries a bit, and there was no reciprocation. So for four years, I was content to have a professionally-inspired casual friendship which was neither fish nor fowl. My regret is not so much that we didn't become romantically involved as the fact that we never became particularly intimate as friends, either.

In June, Hilary graduated, and left for post-doc work in another state, and except for chance, it's unlikely that our paths will cross again. We're still in touch a bit by e-mail, but it's hard to see even that continuing in any serious way, though we'll probably keep track of one another's careers.

But the night of our last drink, I went over to a dinner at a friend's house, where I was entranced upon meeting and then talking with a young lady in an arcane field at Cal. She was wearing a t-shirt that said "Reading is Sexy," and she was right. I've been a little coy about coming right out with saying "yeah, our marriage is open/polyamorous"; my preferred phrase is the ambiguous "Misty and I tend to socialize separately."

Hypatia and I have seen each other a lot, mostly in group gatherings, but twice otherwise, in parallel with a more playful, flirtatious e-mail correspondence. Once, we had tea (of all things) and translated erotic poetry. Yesterday, we had lunch at an Indian dive, and seem to be increasingly comfortable at mentioning quasi-taboo things (like me teasing her about not asking for a ride to her new apartment so there wouldn't be any danger of me turning into crazy-stalker-guy--not the sort of thing one usually acknowledges at all). So we'll see.

Turns out she has a thing for older men, which parallels a thing I have for women d'une age certaine. Certainly common ground for a nice friendship.

Spending my time

Getting this going has been fun—I've started out by hunting down some favorite blogs around here, and a few other links where I spend my time. Otherwise, I have 3 summer projects:

1. Thesis work: I'm entering my third year (of 4), and hope to have my thesis done by the spring so I can concentrate on other things for the final year. This has meant extracting relevant bits of 5 volumes of primary texts, and reading secondary books as well. The first two steps of the first part are done, all in an Excel worksheet, ready for the next step before I can write. The other reading is ongoing—the more, the merrier.

2. My job: Half-time, decent pay, and not really half-time, even (nice being salaried!), and it's rather like falling off a log. I just need to do calendar work to plan the coming year, but it's pretty manageable. (Besides, it's just a block from home, so I'm only online at the office, so I spend more time here than I really need, just for fun.

3. The gym: If I were a woman, I might be called Rubenesque. My 5'7" frame has topped out (once in 1994 and once in early 2004) at 250. The first time, I managed to drop 50 pounds in the course of a year, but my milestone of 200 was more like a slow-bounce trampoline. This time, I've been going to the gym every weekday since school got out in late May. I've watched my cardio time and weight machine work improve, while the scale refuses to get below 219. Misty (Mrs. me) insists that I'm trading muscle for the other stuff, but I'm kind of depressed. Still, that's where I'll be, 2 hours a day, at least until school fills out my schedule.

And then there's travel: We spent a few days on a road trip north of here, and will be visiting M's family for a week in August (including my birthday, the 16th). Then: Burning Man. One of two cultural virginities left to lose (the other being Rocky Horror). As a non-outdoorsy person, I have mixed feelings about this, but can't wait. Oh, and I'll be with a group of friends and others who have gone before, but M. has less than zero interest in going, while knowing full well I'm off for a week of sex, drugs, and rock & roll (or whatever the 2005 equivalent is) in the desert. I suppose I'll have more to say about that, too.

Starting Young

I was sexualized at an early age. Was it more than most people? I don't think so. I'll be clear about one thing: my sexual awareness was not a result of abuse or any sort of adult inappropriateness; rather, it came from curiosity and pleasure.

For as long as I can remember, I knew how to masturbate. I have no idea, of course, how I discovered that little treat, but I did it young and often. Most often, by hand, though my family had a bonus: one of those old-style vibrators that slipped on to the back of your hand. I learned the art of extended, multiple orgasms, all without an erection. In fact, I did everything I could to avoid getting an erection, because the feelings went away. If that's what it's like to have a clit, I want to go back to those days!

Actually, when I hit puberty, I discovered that I was "supposed" to get off with an erection, and everything changed. Not neccessarily for the better. But I digress.

So besides my private sex play, I had one friend in particular--Mark--with whom I played a lot. And much of that play was sexual. We would go out to find nooks in his overstuffed garage and we would "boy-screw". Yes, that means what you think. Little penises in little buttholes--who needed lube? We even tried licking each other, but just once, and: Ick! All this at the ages of about 6-8, when I switched schools and Mark moved away. There were others to share masturbation techniques with (though we didn't know to call it that), but no one else to play with as intimately until high school.

That would be Eddie. He was a year younger than me, and everyone knew he was "queer." We were right, as it turned out--let's face it, sometimes you really CAN tell. Up to about age 16, we would often spend the night at each other's houses, and be glad to share the same bed. We tried blowing each other, and tried fucking too. Didn't get very far with either, but it was fun to play. I remember Eddie's body changing, and he must have been paying attention to mine, too--I still remember the first time he had pubic hair.

All this time, mind you, I was unremittingly interested in and unsuccessful with girls. I would have "almost-girlfriends" and talk a lot on the phone, but never had the nerve to do more than hold hands or sit snuggling together. My first kiss was goodnight after my senior prom. (More about the fairer sex in time.)

I did have one friend in high school who I knew was gay--Rob. Our last names were next to each other alphabetically, so we sat together in almost every class for four years. On our senior retreat, Rob and I arranged to share a room, and I had even snuck in some adult beverages. I wanted so much to do it for real, but I just didn't have the nerve. Damn, damn, damn.

So all this is to give some sense of myself as being right in the middle of the Kinsey scale. I love women, and have had my only relationships with them, including two trips to the altar. And I have no intention of changing that. At the same time, I've since played around with men, and really enjoyed it. It's fun being on the other side of a penis. I suppose that means the ideal is an MMF threesome--thank goodness I have friends who are glad to oblige. And yes, that's a part of my marriage too.

Let's see: so far we've got bisexuality and polymorphous perversity. Where will we go next?