07 November 2006

What about Misty?

So here I am, giving Doug a blowjob in my living room, as he's lying back on the same chaise where he slept when he stayed with us 4 years ago. And you may be wondering: Just how does this fit in to my "quietly-polyamorous marriage"?

You wouldn't be the first.

A few weeks ago, I was driving through the city where Gina, my psycho ex, lives. I've driven through there many times over the intervening 8 years, and often thought about calling her, at least in the last couple of years.

Frankly, I wasn't unhopeful that it might lead to a little mutual nakedness. Sex with Gina was the best ever, before or since. The rest of the baggage was too much, though. I had met Misty about a month after starting to date Gina, and jumped when we finally had the chance for a drink about 7 months later. The rest is history.

So I phoned Gina (I hadn't ever forgotten her number anyway, but have it in my cellphone memory for good measure), and we ended up having a really nice talk. She sounded...well, sane. And I was delighted.

But here's the thing: I have a tendency to go a bit overboard at times in my enthusiasm. And I put my foot in it a bit, first on the phone, then in an e-mail.

The last time I saw Gina was just about a month after we broke up. I had given her a gift certificate for a massage, and she asked me if I would pick her up from the train so we could have coffee before she went to the spa.

It was a cordial conversation, but I didn't know quite how to respond when she asked:

"So, how's the sex?"

It sucked, frankly. And after how mind-blowingly good it had been with Gina, I wasn't about to admit as much. So I said something minimal--"It's great"--or something of that ilk. But that little white lie had stuck with me all those years, especially as things never really improved.

So on the phone with Gina, after we'd been talking for just a couple of minutes, I (nochalantly, I thought) said:

"Well, the sex sucks."

So there it was. Mind you, I had been talking about Misty in only glowing terms, completely truthfully. And when Gina seemed caught a bit off guard, I reminded her that she had asked me that all those years ago, trying to put my little gaffe into context.

And actually, it led to a fun conversation for a while--seems Gina has found out she's a squirter. Damn, I missed my chance! (I'm not a bit surprised, given everything else about her sexual responses, just sorry I didn't find out for myself.)

The conversation went on from there, for quite a while. She told me she still had the same e-mail, and would like to keep in touch.

So far, so good.

But I stuck my foot in a bit deeper when I wrote her an e-mail later that afternoon. I was a bit enthusiastic and flirtatious--and there was my mistake.

Gina had never been much for flirting. She was much more direct, and didn't ever take well to even the mildest teasing. When we were first corresponding, she told me she didn't have a car, and I made some comment about not being sure if, as a native Californian, I could trust anyone without a car. She flipped a bit, and our budding friendship almost came to an end before it had really begun.

But forgetting this, I was a bit flirtatious in my e-mail to Gina, and it didn't go over well. Her response was titled "Red Flags", and while pleasant enough, turned very serious very quickly.

It turned out she had been thinking about my overly-soon turn to talking about sex, and was bothered by it. And granted, it was at best premature to have gone there so quickly, let alone to follow it up by trying to be flirtatious.

I compounded things a bit, replying witht the subject, "Not red flags...yellow, perhaps?" That led to a quickly-escalating series of e-mails, which escalated quickly into testiness on her part, and defensiveness on my part. I mentioned that Misty and I have played around, and Gina got rather nasty, accusing me of being a jerk for "cheating on her" after all she's done for me.

When I pointed out that I had meant it when I said that "we" had fooled around, i.e. together, Gina went practically ballistic. It seems I had invaded her boundaries, just the way I had invaded her boundaries by fucking up our friendship by getting her into bed, and she had vowed never again to ruin a friendship with sex...blah, blah, blah.

So all this was a bit of a reminder that our marriage is unconventional, to say the least. All this is a long way around of getting back to that question about Misty and me as the giver of blowjobs.

Just about a month before Doug visited, we were talking about my experiences with men. It wasn't something we had really talked about much, part of the "don't-ask-don't-tell" aspect of our marriage. The parameters are clear; the details, we keep to ourselves unless we play together. But if either of us asks, we're happy to share.

And it was in just such a conversation that Misty asked about what I had done with men. She knew I had slept (actually slept) with Doug, but she didn't know we had fooled around. So I told her, and she was a bit surprised, as Doug is definitely not her type. If she's going to watch me giving a blowjob, it'll be with someone else (preferably someone who would be interested in her too--and Doug is about as gay as they get).

We had already made arrangements for Doug to spend the night elsewhere, just for convenience. And Misty didn't ask further about whether I planned to fool around with Doug while he was here; if she had, I would have said that I probably would, of course. But having put it out there, knowing he would be here for the first time in 4 years, there was really no question that it was in the air.

Have I told Misty about the blowjob? No.

Would I if she asked? Yes.

Will I if she does? Absolutely.

So that's how Misty and I fit all this together. I'd rather play with her than without her--if she and Marcy got along, we'd have a great time getting naked together. But it just ain't gonna happen. So while we wait and look for the chance to play together, we also lead our separate social lives, and have a happy marriage because of, not despite, our social independence.

Works for me. And to hell with Gina. But I'll still fuck her, too, if I get the chance. A girl can dream, can't she?

1 Comments:

Blogger Tom Paine said...

Thank you for the link, I have linked back. Your post is very courageous, and I hope Misty can accept all there is about you!

07 February, 2007 05:06  

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