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Open relationship doesn’t mean I’m looking for something better…

Moving is going… well. I have so much still to do and boxes to unpack that I’m exhausted just thinking about it. My cat is all but back to normal but he’s due back at the vets on Monday to have more blood tests and a clot in his neck biopsied. He’s climbing, biting and waking me up at 3am with a paw in my mouth while he perches on my tits staring down at me while I’m sleeping on my back.

This last week has seen an influx of inane emails on OKC for me though. Inane as in, not even worth my time replying kind. And it takes a lot for me not to reply because ultimately I’m too polite for my own good.

What I also realised is that I may need to re-write my profile. You see, it lists me as being in an open relationship. But for some reason men seem to view this as me looking for something better than Cern.

Which, let’s face it, is never going to happen.

So then it got me thinking. What does one put in said profile to say that they’ve met the love of their life and they aren’t in an open relationship because they aren’t getting fulfilled at home, quite the opposite to be honest. I’m getting fulfilled at home to the point that I’m not even looking anywhere else. If people write to me then great, I keep up conversation and keep in touch. But I’m no purposefully seeking or making dates. I’m not looking at profiles thinking “Oh yeah, I need to get this person into bed or I must meet this person for a coffee and shagging session”.

I love what I have with Cern. I honestly do. And at the moment it’s all so new and beautiful and I’m enjoying him so much that I don’t see the need nor the desire to stop my obsession just being focused on him. You know, the honeymoon period. I want to enjoy it for all it’s worth. And when we settle into a routine a year or so later, I may even purposefully seek for some different kinds of interactions. But that’s where I am at, he’s been going out on coffee dates and to be honest, I haven’t really cared that he has. Except when he baits me to the point that I lose my shit at him – he has this habit of pushing my buttons.

 

For example, he met a girl this week for a coffee. Which he enjoyed and that was great, I was happy he met someone he had a good time with. I’m all for him meeting new people – unfortunately she was named the same name as an ex-friend of mines child who went a bit crazy (the ex-friend, not her child) – which made me cringe internally but I’m sure his friend comes from a normal family and doesn’t have crazy in her genes. But when he started pushing that I somehow should sleep with her it squicked me out. And yet he kept pushing. And I kept getting snarkier.

It didn’t stem from jealousy, this reaction. At least, I don’t think it did. I think that if and when we do want to have a threesome, that it’s something we both do together. We both talk to the person, we both get to know them, we both interact and keep communications open across the board.  It’s really important to me to be kept in the loop. It makes me feel included and desired as opposed to feeling like the bit of meat on the side that’s added as an afterthought because it might be fun. And I realise this kind of thinking is silly and totally not how Cern means for it all to come across, however my own relationship history has warped me a bit in regards to a lot of things and it’s a process of me working through them all to unravel and retrain myself to think differently – or at least feel differently.

And my knee jerk reaction to having women I don’t know, I’ve never talked to or know anything about thrown at me like meat on a stick is that I feel cheap – and it reminds me of how my ex used to parade and flirt in front of me with other women in a way to elicit a negative reaction after we had the conversation of having a closed relationship as opposed to an open one because he didn’t want to share me. It brings up feelings of inadequacy and insecurity of self – and I don’t like being there at all.

Maybe this comes with age into a relationship; the knowledge and trust in your partner finding someone suitable without your input… but right now, I don’t really have that and it just makes me not want to play, in fact it tempts me to pack up my toys and go home.

I mentioned that I wanted a threesome for my birthday – which we still haven’t gotten around to, but with life being so freaking busy I figure it will happen. It’s just a matter of when and not something I really want to rush anyway.

But coming back to my profile on OKC – how does one write a profile to say that I am not looking for the love of my life? I think I’ve already found him. I’m not saying I’m in an open relationship because I think there’s someone better out there for me. I’m not on OKC because my partner doesn’t satisfy me in bed or in life. I’m not on there because I somehow think he’s lacking and I need someone else to make up the difference.

I’m there because, I know, no matter how much you say it’s not true, all relationships hit a plateau – and being able to have the option of something outside what you have built doesn’t diminish what you have at home, it makes you appreciate it more.

That the thought of needles and me poking them into someone else makes Cern turn this funny shade of green. He doesn’t quite grasp my love of finger painting in someone’s blood or that I find the entire thing really tribalistic – ritualistic even. Someone is giving me access to the very thing that keeps them alive – that runs in their veins and lights up their eyes. Blood play is intoxicating on many a level. But there’s certain kinks of mine that he is totally not into – and that’s ok. He doesn’t have to be. But being in an open relationship gives me the option of exploring those other kinks with other people. And that doesn’t necessarily mean that I need to get into their pants. If anything it’s more about the intimacy of play and sharing something different. There’s so much to life apart from just sex and you can find intimacy in a wide variety of things, especially in the kink world.

Unfortunately I don’t quite know how to explain that to people who don’t understand alternative lifestyles – they just don’t get “it”.

And so I wonder, how does one put all this into a profile and make it clear that “open relationship” doesn’t mean this is a pissing competition and you get to “win” me from Cern. It’s a sharing of aspects of ourselves with the knowledge and consent of our partners – and the security of knowing that no matter what, they will love you and be there for you to come home to.

40

Dating fails #5391037

So the whole dating thing still isn’t going. Not a man in sight that I’d spend my time with over dinner or a coffee.

But here’s one that’s been making me cringe and I know y’all enjoy my seemingly idiot attracting magnet.

I did say no to him already but he is one of those special guys that keeps pushing in the hopes that I have a change of heart because he’s been harassing me and then I magically fall at his feet and offer myself for the taking because I’d been blind to his obvious wit and charm. Not.

Maybe I should have an auto response saved somewhere to send when a guy doesn’t understand I’m not interested – along the lines of:

Hello random man that won’t take no for an answer, I said not interested. Back the fuck up, bow the fuck out and take my answer as final. I’m not changing my mind. Ever.

Am so tired of jerks like this that I went and changed my profile to now include that I don’t want cis-gendered straight males who have no idea about alternative lifestyles to contact me. Here’s to hoping the quality improves. Doubt it though!

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6

Road Tripping: Texas take 2

I know y’all been hanging out for this and so here we go. It’s a follow on from here for those not up to date.

I got driven to the airport by Scotty and with a cuddle, kiss and grope and some words telling me to look after myself and get back to him in one piece I was on a plane bound for San Antonio again.

When I landed in San Antonio I was picked up at the airport by Daddy. Who drove wrapped me up in a great big hug and deposited me in this car as we drove off. We went for a brief drive where he showed me his place that he shared with his brother. I met the cat and I got to be a sticky beak at check out the books. There were books everywhere and books tell you a lot about a person.

We didn’t stay long before he drove me off to the hotel that he had booked for me to stay in. The Emily Morgan is really a very pretty hotel and I loved it. It had gargoyles on the outside, instant love for me. Gargoyles on anything. Love! It dates back to the 1920’s and the rooms were just quaint and darling. Definitely somewhere to go stay at again if I’m in town. It’s a few minutes walk to the River Walk and shops. And the Alamo.

I had 3 nights there, we spent 2 of those together, I had a night off in between to catch up with someone I went on a date with last time I was on town but it never turned into anything but friendship. He’s a lovely guy and we talk each other’s ears off.

But the first night was great, Daddy decided that we were going to have dinner close by so we went off to dinner by the river and I ate some gumbo because I was having withdrawals from New Orleans. We chatted about everything, lots of things, music, books, our disbelief in the religious icons that litter our world with such hatred and discord. The gumbo was perfect, the twinkly lights along the river were just wonderful – as was the company.

We headed back to the room after a brief walk around after dinner and sat and talked a bit, he opened the toy bag he brought along and there were all kinds of fun leather things in there – however being that I was taught to not play with other people’s toys I sat and stared at it longingly.

Which I then promptly forgot because things started to get hot and heavy. His grin widened as I undressed slowly for him with some shimmy’s. His eyes might have rolled back in his head as I started to devour him slowly. Suffice to say, we didn’t leave the room for the rest of the night and there was a lot of fun had.

The next day he offered to take me out to his quad biking ranch. His brother and he were starting a new business you see, quad biking. I was overjoyed. I might have squealed. A wee bit.

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30

No, I am not your object.

This post is brought to you my ranty mcrant pants. And the fact that men would rather treat me as a piece of meat than having a normal conversation.

More and more I’m starting to get annoyed with OKC.

It’s pretty easy to tell you why too. Because the men that message me seem to think that they are doing me a huge favour by telling me how awesome my tits are.

Or how beautiful my smile, if only it was giving them a blow job.

What the ever-loving fuck people?

Is this just me?

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14

Road Tripping: Sobering up in Vegas with Scotty

You know, I’ve had a pretty shitty week so I thought what better way to end it than to start to wrap up my very first State-side road trip.

So I believe we left off where I woke up with the random Santa in my bed and drunk amnesia, no?

2 days of alcohol poisoning had left me feeling a bit weak and useless. My luggage had finally turned up so I walked down to the Greyhound station to pick up my pretty pink wheelie and take it back to my room and finally get into some clean clothes.

Scotty had been in contact again, requesting my presence. I begged off saying I wasn’t human and he told me I didn’t have a say because he couldn’t take care of me unless we were together. So he asked where I was staying, what room I was in and turned up no more than 30 minutes later. Settled into the sofa in my room and just looked hot and smouldering staring at me while I tried to unpack my clothes as I got more and more flustered at his staring and his caresses as I passed by. Ok, so maybe I stopped to throw myself into his lap on occasion to make out and hump his leg. I am not above my hormones, oh no.

I gave up trying to unpack my wayward luggage and sat on the edge of the bed feeling about as useful as tits on a bull when Scotty pipes up that I should just pack up my luggage and go stay with him.

You could hear the crickets chirping as I considered this.

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30

On being single again… OKC Fail.

I don’t know what prompted me to reactivate my OKC profile, but I did. And not before long I started trolling the boys that were messaging me. I honestly don’t see me ever meeting one single guy off this site anytime in my future. Or their dreams.

Where did manners and courtesy go, I ask?

Anyway, here’s the very first message I got to entertain you all.

OKC Fail

His writing from the left, mine doesn’t have a bubble.

Sexual objectification. I’m sure I wrote about how hot it makes me. With the right person.

In this case it turned me into a raging bitch. At least I stayed polite.

Oh the fun world of dating, how I loathe thee. I might have to retire by getting a new hitachi and collecting all the James Deen porn available to keep me going until the end of days. Or a zombie apocalypse.

Whichever comes first.

30

Morning tears for humanity

Yesterday I started the day by crying, in bed whilst scrolling through Facebook. My cat thought I was a wee bit insane but snuggled up to my mopey self anyway.

It was this video that had me crying.

I was teary all morning due to this and it wasn’t until I stopped to question myself why this video had affected me the way it had.

And I think it’s because I’ve been there. I’ve been on the receiving end of that kind of hatred before, unjustifiable, unreasoning, un-containable hatred. For loving someone of the same gender. I can’t and don’t understand the blatant anger, hatred and blind rage that it causes in people.

Why does what and who I do in the bedroom matter? Why do people feel the need to tell me that I’m going to a hell that was concocted just for the very reason that people could be subjugated? Why is it ok for people to feel that they have the right to scream abuse at me and my partner while they drive past in their cars? To spit at our feet as they pass us in the street because we were holding hands? To tell us that we’re less than human because we’re in love…

I don’t get it. I don’t want to get it. I refuse to get it.

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8

NOLA – The first time around.

NOLA – it’s slowly creeping into my blood and becoming one of my other loves.

My first time there, however, was a stark contrast to my latest visit a few months ago.

You see, I’d jumped on the greyhound from Austin and decided that I wanted to skip the rest of Texas and get my ass to New Orleans for the 4th of July, Texas had a ban on fireworks due to fire hazards and being a sucker for some bang bang sparkle ooooohhh!!! I decided that New Orleans was it because you know, they are on a river, what fire danger could some bang bang sparkle pose?

This took practically a day of travelling non-stop to get my butt into the city for the morning of the 4th. Thankfully no one on the greyhound decided to use me as their body pillow on this stretch and there were no delays or sleeping on tiled floors in the greyhound stations.

I got into New Orleans greyhound/train station about 6am. The sun was just starting to shimmer over the horizon. I stepped out of the air-conditioned station and then turned my heels right around and went back in to get a drink of water before braving the humidity that reminded me of Darwin all over again. And when I say reminded me of Darwin I mean that as soon as you walk out into it you feel every drop of moisture leave your body and float away merrily while sticking its tongue out at you as you suffer..

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7

Reformed lesbianism? Is that even a *thing*?!

Reformed what?

I’ve written before about monosexism & my bisexuality.

As mentioned in that post, I was a lesbian before I became bisexual. I’m not going to go into that again with this post. What I did want to talk about was my transition. My journey. My experience.

And my love of women. And men. And possibly some of my relationship epiphanies.

It started young you know, I was kissing girls behind the school toilets when I was 7.

We started experimenting with more than just kissing in the long grass at primary school, possibly about age 10.

I got very familiar with vagina’s during this experimentation period. Don’t get me wrong, they were very confusing, yet endlessly fascinating to me.

Look at that YUMMYNESS!!!!!

Sure I experimented with girls, but I didn’t really have a girlfriend until my late 20’s. Like a proper girlfriend. Move in together and be monogamous kind.

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10

Sexual objectification in the weird way…

As you all are aware, I wrote a note about why I loved sexual objectification in my personal life and why it made me so hot.

Well, last week I saw this picture in the newspapers:

And to be honest, it made me a wee bit uncomfortable. I mean, sure, he has nice boobs. A bit of fur is never frowned up. But the context… Being on stage, accepting an award and having the hostess rip your shirt off mid-speech. Now if that was a woman she’d be justified in turning around and bitch slapping that silly bint to pluto. I know I would have.

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