I Kept Having the Same Two Conversations, Over and Over Again
Growing up bisexual, I’d end up in an unpleasant conversation every time I told a new partner my sexual orientation. And it usually went one of the following ways:
Them: Oh, you’re bi? Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you need to have a boyfriend/girlfriend, » Read more
As I’ve written before, unlike a lot of other polyamorous educators, I wasn’t someone who always knew I was polyamorous. Indeed, I considered myself quite a monogamous person growing up. Even now, I think of myself as being more ambiamorous than anything else, able to happily practice either polyamory or monogamy, » Read more
I’ve changed a lot over the years. I used to think that when you loved someone it meant that their fears took precedence over your own. And that you should do anything to keep from hurting them.
I still have an old journal from my first semester at college (1999). It has a fabric yellow cover, » Read more
I remember standing in the movie theater staring at a game I couldn’t take my eyes off. It was there, wedged in between the spiral wishing well funnel you dropped coins into and what was essentially a glorified mood ring, where you’d press as hard as you could, and it would tell you how stressed you were — » Read more
“Keep your top on,” she said.
“Sure,” I said, dropping my arms to my sides and then quickly wrapping them around her waist. And as we kissed, I moved my hands up her torso, feeling her body through her shirt. Her chest had its own topography. Subtle places where she came in. Went out. » Read more
Every morning I said hello to my third roommate: Xena Warrior Princess.
She was cardboard, all 6 feet of her, and well dressed for any occasion in her armored dress, her chakra at the ready, her smoky bedroom eyes daring me to just go ahead — get too perky before a reasonable hour. » Read more
The worst threesome I ever had ended before it even started.
It caught me off guard how much I enjoyed kissing Derek. We’d spent some months getting to know each other, but we were mostly just friendly. Social. Hanging out with the one person we had in common.
And now that we were here sitting on his bed, » Read more
Nearly 20 years ago, I lived for several months with my friend’s drug dealer. He was 13 years older than me. I didn’t want to date him in the first place, but back then I had a hard time saying no, and he was very persuasive.
Besides, he paid me kindnesses, things that would seem trivial now, » Read more
“I’ve definitely had attractions to other women,” she says. “Had sex with them, sure. But I’ve never really dated one.”
I grip my coffee cup in my hands more tightly, feeling the warmth of the drink spread through my fingers. I idly think that she’d be a good girlfriend. She’s pretty, » Read more
“Are you all set with that?” the bartender asks.
It takes me a second to even register what she means. I look down. There’s a black leather check holder on the bar. Partially obscured by my glass.
“Oh! Oh,” I say. “Sorry. I didn’t even see it.”
My girlfriend Ro looks at me. » Read more