Two For One
Finally our time came and the handsome kiteboarder arrived on my doorstep.
We matched shortly after I arrived in Mexico and had cute banter over text before setting up a phone call that left us both ready to meet in person. The polyamorous Kiter had been coming down to these parts for over a decade and stayed about an hour and a half from where I was. Between us it seems like every weekend was accounted for with out-of-town guests stopping in; he’s here with his wife to-be, a partner for the last six years, but his girlfriend of a year came down for a week, then my sister dropped in unexpectedly followed by my third date with Mr. Wilderness.
Finally our time came and the handsome kiteboarder arrived on my doorstep. We had fun and good sex… Not the kind where you can’t keep your hands off each other but the kind where you both have great orgasms. (Mr. Wilderness and his ability to get hard again and again immediately after orgasm has totally spoiled me.)
Things took an unexpected turn at dinner. We drove for ages down dirt roads towards the ocean to find a hidden gem restaurant. I joked that if I had not suggested the place and knew it was hard to find I’d think this was the part of the date where he kills me. **
Finally we arrive at the most lovely of Baja places, everything about the spot was perfection. In my attempt to find the damn place I’d called the number on Google which turns out to be the owner’s cell phone. How do I know this? I know, because after dinner the owner who had been flirting with me handed me a napkin with his number on it and invited me to come back on Monday evening for a karaoke night. When he hadn’t heard from me by Sunday afternoon he reached out, as he had my number from my desperate navigation attempt.
Naïve I was thinking this hot LA man was just trying to fill his venue with people; after a few messages it became abundantly clear that he had other intentions. When I didn’t make it to karaoke, he asked me to join him for tea and a sunset once he returned from Mexico City later in the week.
Bold is a man who asks you out while you’re on a date, especially when he doesn’t know that both parties on the date are Polly. I like bold. Let’s call him Baja based LA Artist or BBLA for short.
Next stop? Tea and sunset.
**(violence is very real and it’s always important when meeting someone for the first time after an online match to be smart and safe. I always have my location shared with someone near by when meeting up with a stranger.)
Art of Sext
It has been a hot second since I’ve taken time to share about Hugh. Dear reader please do not for one second think it’s because things have faded. My Montréal based beau is very much alive and well, living his best polyamorous life. In fact his other lover will be joining him this very weekend for a night out at one of the many sex club experiences the city has to offer. Am I jealous?
“Tonight as you fall asleep,” my heart skips a beat as Hugh’s message lands on the screen of my phone. It has been a hot second since I’ve taken time to share about Hugh. Dear reader please do not for one second think it’s because things have faded. My Montréal based beau is very much alive and well, living his best polyamorous life. In fact his other lover will be joining him this very weekend for a night out at one of the many sex club experiences the city has to offer. Am I jealous? Only that I won’t be available to join them.
He continues,“I want to lie you on your stomach with your fingers on your clit thinking of me behind you, massaging your lower back, squeezing my hard cock between your cheeks. As your pussy starts to drip, I slide inside you, pushing deep and filling you up. Letting you feel all of me throb as your pussy contracts to welcome me. As we fuck I start playing with your ass, massaging it until it’s succumbs and lets my thumb slip inside. I finger your asshole and ready it for my cock. You’re so close to orgasm as I take my cock from your pussy and slide it deep into your ass; I grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back off the bed so I can see your face and watch you. I keep my weight pressed heavy against your waist, your fingers still moving hard against your clit as I move back-and-forth, sliding in your ass until we both explode in violent orgasmic release. We collapse together, my weight pinning you down sweaty and heavy in unison. Exalted.”
Ummm… Yes Hugh, I can absolutely lie in bed tonight and cum fantasizing about savagely hot anal sex with you.
We’ve found ourselves after only two in-person dates in a long distance relationship that goes well beyond Sex; although with messages like these the anticipation and the desire is strong and I feel almost bad for the poor people who will be my neighbors in Montréal this summer.
After more than six months apart Hugh and I have some serious making-up for-lost-sex-time well overdue. For now, our weekly FaceTime’s and lengthly written letters continue; the sexy texts are creating an intense build up and I explode again and again to his written words.
Keep the sexts coming Hugh.
Truths Don’t Have to Hurt
To be truly honest means I must participate in the destigmatizing of shame around the subject of childhood molestation.
When I started this blog back in 2010 it was because people were pleading with me to write it. The very same friends who I would recount details from my wild nights with would coax me, “Everyone wants to hear this, you must create some thing!” So, I did and at the time it took off. Sooo I Met This Guy fill the void in the time post Sex In The City and pre Girls.
Without much effort promoting the platform the readership skyrocketed, media features were published and then I got bored and my actual fashion career began to takeoff. There was barely time to live the life let alone write about it.
Now I’m faced with the self inquiry, “Why am I doing this again?” No one is asking me to write and the readership is a fraction of what it used to be… Honestly a podcast would be the more obvious medium in 2022. For Christ’s sake even Carrie got that right in the SITC reboot and no I haven’t watched it (or Girls for that matter).
So back to the question, what am I getting out of this and why am I taking precious moments of my day to create?
The exhibitionist part of me takes an immense amount of pleasure knowing a part of you gets off reading about my sex, but you already knew that. To be truly honest is to reveal some thing I spent my entire life to keep hidden, even from myself.
To be truly honest means I must participate in the destigmatizing of shame around the subject of childhood molestation; a word that even as I write it on this page (yes I hand write all my first drafts) refuses to be scrawled smoothly.
I continue to share my journey exploring polyamory with the hook of sexual pleasure because for me, being able to flaunt this pleasure is my way of reclaiming something that someone tried to take away from me when I was much too young to be experiencing that kind of sexuality.
Every time I put pen to paper and re-count the glorious ecstasy I share with my various partners, it’s my small victory over those who tried to victimize me. I do not share this because I want your sympathy or because I need you to understand who I am, but because perhaps you’ve been struggling with some aspect of life.
Perhaps you need to know that bad fucking shit happens and it does not need to break you. You have the power to rewrite your story, heal and live for yourself in the way that you see fit. If there is one thing you take away from my ramblings, I hope it’s the strength and confidence to ask for what you want, embrace your sexuality however that manifests for you and accept nothing less than the orgasms and endless pleasure you deserve.
Now, let’s get back to the sexy stuff.
Third Date
His boldness to pick up and meet me for a journey such as this was a huge turn on and the trip could not have been more perfect. Mr. Wilderness had me swooning in ways I’m not used to.
His white rental truck pulled into the driveway of our Casita and I was instantly aroused. Who am I kidding, I’d been anticipating his arrival since our second in-person date which lasted three nights only four short weeks earlier.
Our third official date stretched for 10 nights and 11 days as we explored the beaches, mountains and cities along Mexico’s Baja California Sur Peninsula, as well as exploring each other. It was not the first time I’d traveled with a new beau, however usually one of us was working and it was never for such a lengthy time.
His boldness to pick up and meet me for a journey such as this was a huge turn on and the trip could not have been more perfect. Mr. Wilderness had me swooning in ways I’m not used to.
Perhaps it was watching him “handle” wild horses that were disturbing fellow travelers on the hidden Beach of Las Palmas; or perhaps it was the unbelievable sex inside a cave that ended in a massive climax just as the tide began to rise and the sand floor washed away beneath us? Either way, I was left with a full heart, a body that craves his touch and an overall satisfaction and simultaneous need for more.
Who really is this man? How can he keep up in an 11 day sex marathon, prepare absolutely delicious food and maintain engaging and mostly meaningful conversations for days on end?
I’m taken back to the feeling of waking up with his hands against my bare skin, his tongue between my legs, orgasm after orgasm as he continues to get hard again and again without a break. He’s about to turn 40 years old, but we fuck like we are teenagers. When I’m with him none of the others exist.
There is a small part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, this is his first exploration into non-monogamy and he has a date with a lovely sounding woman next week. We all know the importance of proximity and this other woman has me beat when it comes to that.
Will he fall for her? Will she be open to non-monogamy? I refuse to be concerned for what the future may or may not bring; that said, I’ve compromised my non-monogamous values in the past, before I was truly committed to this truth. If he isn’t committed the same could occur here.
It will be six weeks until we are together again and my mind will wander, recounting this never-ending date again and again as the desires I have continue to build. This distance is an aphrodisiac in itself.
In the meantime there may just be someone waiting in the wings and for now, that will have to do.
Enter stage right, The Kiter.
First Date
The door opened and as he turned towards me our eyes locked; lust at first sight.
The door opened and as he turned towards me our eyes locked; lust at first sight.
Even more handsome in person, the electricity between us made my breath catch in my throat. As we sat across from each other at dinner and I began to see who he is as a human being, I was taken aback.
We are in a city that neither of us live in, yet both pass through regularly enough… I genuinely thought this would be one night of lusty fun, but the more he shared, the more intrigued I grew. What was happening!?
As we stood on my front doorstep the next morning, our lips locked, tongues hungry, unable to pull away, I knew he felt it too. My pussy was dripping, begging for more even though I’d had four orgasms just hours earlier. The smell of his sweat and the feel of his skin burned into my memory, to be played on repeat. Just as I’d asked he woke me with his tongue between my legs. The softness of the hotel sheets engulfed us as I lay breathless, head on his chest unable to tear myself away. Not only had he taken me to one of my favorite restaurants, but he had made the fortuitous decision to also book himself a room at the right hotel.
The cold winter air stung my bare legs as I walked through the front door and the whisper that came from the universe moments before we had met now reappeared, bringing a smile to my heart.
"You’ll either never see him again or he’s the one," the words echoed in my post sex haze and I craved more of him, but not just physically. I have no idea what mother-nature means by 'the one', but I'm excited to find out.
Now, weeks later and two phone dates in, I sit in Costa Rica, sipping sparkling water while watching the sunset after an hour of virtual sex; my heart is calm and quiet. I am not in a hurry. With two weeks until we will be together again physically, I’ll savor the moments leading up to that just as I will the moments we are together.
What comes next is the most unclear, yet I’m excited to find out. His quiet strength, connection to himself and understanding of the world are charming and endearing. I want to know more.
Let’s call him Mr. Wilderness.
Actions But Also Words
"Cigarettes and monogamy are deal breakers," my long nails clicked as I typed this into the description field of my dating profile. Still uncomfortable with labels, this at least felt more authentic and genuine to who I am and the type of relationship I am seeking.
"Cigarettes and monogamy are deal breakers," my long nails clicked as I typed this into the description field of my dating profile. Still uncomfortable with labels, this at least felt more authentic and genuine to who I am and the type of relationship I am seeking. After all 'deep connection and hot sex' may attract the wrong people.
It had been less than a month since Hugh and I met. After our second date, which happened to be the night before I left Montréal for the winter, we decided to stay in touch and see what grows; grow indeed we did.
Weekly FaceTimes, sexy texts and deep insightful emails strengthened our bond. Remote, yet flirtatious lunchtime orgasms kept things spicy, but long distance is always tough on physical intimacy, most especially when you're in your home town and staying with family. With 2 weeks before I departed for warmer weather it couldn't hurt to see what else the universe had in store for me sexually.
Boom. Match, poly man. And again, match, another hot young-ish polyamorous man. Basically the second one was my age.. but we all know I have an old-man fetish, so let's leave it that he is young. I met the first one for a date in a nondescript coffee shop where we were the only two there, unless you count the barista. After ordering coffee, which neither of us has much interest in drinking, we took a seat by the ever-classy electric fireplace. His hand grazed my knee as he told me how beautiful and sexy he found me. The feeling was mutual and I could see he was as hungry to devour me. With nothing on underneath my navy satin skirt I guided his hand to feel how wet I was as I leaned in to kiss him. He got me close with his fingers and then got on his knees in the middle of the coffee shop and ate me until I came.
He was fun, but based on the fact that he and his wife are not open about being poly within their circle, I knew it would just be a lusty encounter and didn't have any intentions of seeing him again. Hot sex? Check. Deep connection? Hell no. Next!
Young-ish poly man was freshly married and had only been open with his wife for the last 6 weeks. After chatting further, with a healthy dose of flirtatious texts thrown in for good measure, it became clear that they are in a very experimental phase of their relationship. As I am not a science project nor looking to be in their social experiment, I'm clearly running my own here, I had to pass. NEXT! (Too bad though, he was pretty cute.)
I was done with all the back and forth messages from boys and toys. Later that week when I matched with a sexy and charming man from up north and he asked me to dinner I happily accepted, knowing a night of fun with a handsome stranger would not take away anything from what Hugh and I have been building.
There is a hotel in my hometown where I have spent many nights locked up in their most glamorous of suites having multiple orgasms with multiple partners. It's dark and sexy and each of the rooms are different; if you've ever stayed at The Hotel Fort Garry, you can take pleasure knowing that I've probably cum all over your sheets. Don't worry their laundry service is topnotch.
When this handsome stranger, and would be dinner date, told me he normally stays in a hotel when he visits, I knew even before meeting him that if he was the kind of man that would book to stay at the Hotel Fort Garry there was exactly a 0% chance that he'd be sleeping there alone. Until Saturday...
And Then There Were Two
Why does everyone who isn’t “hetero“ or “monogamous“ have to “come-out“ as themselves? We can often get so caught up in the labeling that we lose sight of who the person is and what they stand for, instead focusing on who they fuck and their lifestyle choices.
Anyone who has read my ramblings knows that monogamy isn’t my style. That said, I've been resisting putting a label on myself until now. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t have to. Why does everyone who isn’t “hetero“ or “monogamous“ have to “come-out“ as themselves? We can often get so caught up in the labeling that we lose sight of who the person is and what they stand for, instead focusing on who they fuck and their lifestyle choices.
We matched on an app. I was drawn to his handsome smile, athletic pursuits, international background and his use of the word polyamory. After one or two messages he inquired, “You read my profile? You saw that I’m Poly?”
To which I smiled and replied, “Yes, it’s one of the things that attracted me.”
It was more than just the labeling that had prevented me from embracing the word polyamorous. I want a family and that for me includes children; I’ve been struggling to see how ethical non-monogamy works successfully with children. There are almost no media examples and I personally didn't know anyone achieving this. Yet here is this man; he is smart, charming, kind and confident with two children, a primary partner and a commitment to openness and honesty. He knows what he wants and there is a clear structure of what works when it comes to additional partners.
We sat across from each other, the seafood restaurant in the Old Port of Montreal was nearly empty on this Friday afternoon. I'd just spent 4 hours at Scandinave Spa and was beyond relaxed from the thermal cycle. A light dusting of snow was sprinkling down, evaporating as it made contact with the pavement. Our eyes were fixed on each other and the tension building all week from our messages was thick in the air. Part of me wanted to clear the table with a sweep of my arm, lean across and pull this man towards me; I should have, but I didn't.
We stood on the cobblestone street after lunch and with the glow of the white Christmas lights sparkling in the sky above us, he kissed me. Shivers ran down my spine and through my being. A kiss like that could only mean one thing and I’d spend the next 24 hours until our first dinner date fantasizing about the way his tongue would penetrate me… Let’s call him Hugh.
P.S. After he read this draft he responded by saying, “I'm pretty sure you kissed me…” but given that he clocks in at over 6 feet tall and I’m just a touch above 5 foot 2 inches, I beg to differ.
