The geese are extra territorial at the zoo. “Must be mating season,” I say.
Skyspook nods. “The start of it anyway.”
A cacophony of honks explodes in the air. Jockeying for mates.
There are so many ducks on the water. Most of them are acting up, just like the geese. Two beta male ducks chasing down an alpha and his mate. Looking to get in on the action. Or at least ruffle a few feathers.
And yet, off in a quieter area of the pond, another group of three ducks swims placidly. Peacefully. One male, two females. And they appear to be… friends. There’s none of the tension or sexual momentum that’s going on just around the corner.
I point the chill ducks out to Skyspook. “I guess they’re too young to mate,” I say.
“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe they have some sort of pact.”
“They all hang out together so nobody tries to… you know.”
“Duck-bang them?” I say.
A female friend is harassed by the pizza guy.
“My boyfriend is right outside,” she tells him.
“He doesn’t have to know,” the delivery guy replies.
He won’t leave her house until she takes his number.
When she opens up her order, there are missing items.
She calls the pizza place, complains about the incomplete order and the inappropriate behavior of their delivery driver. She specifically asks for a different driver to deliver the rest of her food.
So of course they send the same driver to her again.
“Can I Borrow Your Male Privilege?”
I’ve been on the kink scene for 7 years. Out as sex-positive, poly, and adventurous for that entire time.
So of course I get a lot of saucy messages.
And none bother me. Until one day.
And it’s hard to say what about this one that really gets to me. Why it feels threatening. Maybe it’s the timing. How he messages me multiple times, with long pauses in between. Like I’m on his mind for longer than a passing fascination. Or maybe it’s what he says.
But my blood goes cold. I shut down. And I’m afraid.
And unlike all the other messages I get (some awesome, some neutral, some meh), I show this one to Skyspook.
“Can I borrow your male privilege?” I ask weakly. And I mean it as a joke. But it’s also a serious request, and he knows it.
“Of course,” Skyspook replies. He sternly messages the author, who backs down instantly.
I’m a Kinsey 5, homoflexible. “You can safely round me up to lesbian,” I like to joke.
I sometimes wonder if that’s one of the things I find useful about polyamory. That I can date mostly women but always have significant males nearby: My anchor partner Skyspook, telemours, the occasional boyfriend, poly friends who are basically family. That because I’m close to these guys that I have protection from other men who would want to possess me selfishly or inflict violence upon me. More protection than I did when I was single and identified as a monogamous lesbian.
That I can stay openly sex positive and true to myself and borrow their male privilege in times of crisis.