An Adventure as Her: Until That Night

To feel a gaping hole within you and to not know why it exists is a painful and troubling sensation. You can’t put your finger on it and you can’t quite find the peg that fits.  You just feel it. You recognize it. But you cannot fix it.

That’s Him. He’s that peg.

He represents a solution to a problem that I wasn’t even sure that I had. I didn’t know that I needed Him. I didn’t even know that I wanted Him, until that night. There was something. I couldn’t just leave it alone. Sure we talked and joked. Sure I didn’t think much of it or Him, until that night. The magnetic energy that existed between us couldn’t be ignored.

I wasn’t expecting anything other than a meeting in passing, a hello, and a face to a name. There was so much more, though I wouldn’t fully recognize it until much later.

We hugged and it was electric. I don’t tend to give much attention to a physical attraction. I thought it was just another ‘thing’ that might grow into another fling. Oh, it grew alright.

We continued to talk after That Night and something began to happen. Tattered wrapping paper was ripped away. Chipped paint was scraped away. He saw something in me that I saw hints of but didn’t nurture. He also saw something in me that, to this day, I don’t see.

As it stands, I feel something towards this man that I’ve never felt for another. I feel something that I thought that I might possibly want if it ever presented itself. He brings a peace to me that I never thought that I’d feel. I feel this inexplicable desire to serve Him. Absolutely nothing about this and us makes sense to me.

I am a control freak. I am over-analytical. I am strong. I am tough (as He says), I am stubborn and I am hardheaded. I am attached and so is He. So why on earth would I feel this indescribable need to please Him and not disappoint Him? I question it within myself but when He puts his foot down, I abide. I listen. I obey.

I rack my brain trying to understand this but I am coming to realize that this just doesn’t make sense. I am also realizing that even though this doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t change how this makes me feel. It doesn’t change how He makes me feel.

Over the years I have found myself in situations where I’ve peeled back a layer or few, but I’ve never allowed myself to be completely naked with anyone. I’ve never bared it all. It’s a terrifying prospect. But He makes me feel incredibly safe. I trust that He’ll never abuse this trust that I’ve instilled in Him. I’ve always had to be “tough”. I’ve always had to be guarded. While I’ve let down the armor enough to let people in some, I’ve never let it all go. And something in me wants that.

It’s an immense pressure to be in control all of the time. Not just in control of things, but to be in control of yourself, your thoughts and your emotions. But something within me is clinging to this Man and I want to bare it all for Him.

What He’s done is create a safe space for me and He wants me to bare it all. He wants me to trust in Him and depend on Him. He welcomes this with no expectations from me other than to listen to his guidance and obey his commands. I can only wonder if this lack of expectation is a result of our respective attachments and responsibilities.

Initially, I didn’t want anything from Him other than to experience Him physically. Remember that I felt this electric sexual energy between us upon our first meeting. That’s as far as I could see. But somewhere along the lines of subtle hints and cues, we found that we were both seeking something more. Whether or not we both knew this is a different story.

Our first tryst happened so organically that I’m still blown away. There were no instructions, no directions, and no cues. He just came in and executed everything that I wanted and needed. He’s always been attentive. So attentive that it surprised me. After that night, I felt like a conversation was in order. This just didn’t make any sense to me.  He was everything that I could want and I didn’t even have to ask? What is going on??

I recall asking Him if the monster was slumbering or if He was waiting around the corner. He said something about taking note of what I said and how I said things. Who knew that subconsciously I was beckoning Him to take me and own me? I didn’t.

And now it stands, this Man has expressed an interest in collaring me and I have expressed a need for Him to collar me. I can’t begin to describe how I feel beyond conflicted, confused, excited, cared for and needed. I never knew just how important this sort of relationship is to me. Then again, I’ve never had the space to explore it with anyone. And the truth of the matter is that I couldn’t have imagined exploring it with anyone better. He’s established that I can trust Him, we’ve fostered a trust between us and He constantly reassures me and soothes any possible concerns.

Thus far, He’s always been strong and assertive, in control and protective and most of all careful in how He handles me. I didn’t see any of this coming. I thought it was something that would have to be suppressed. Then He came along and is slowly pulling me out of my shell and has provided me with an opportunity to bare it all.

I want to bare it all. I want to give myself to Him. I trust that I can.

I can’t ignore all of the other factors that play into this but even still, absolutely nothing about this with Him brings me to feel uneasy, unsure, anxious or fearful. I have never in my life felt as safe as I do with Him. Again, this makes no sense to me.

But at this point in my life, I don’t want this to make sense. I want this to be. I want us to be. In whatever capacity our situations allow.

At any other point in my life I’d hate to admit it but here I am, proud to exclaim, not only do I want Him but also I need Him. The thing is, I just didn’t know that I did.


An Adventure as Her: Danger

I can still feel his hands roaming my body. I can still feel his breath on my neck, the cold mirror against my face and my breasts. I can still feel his dick pressing against my ass. I can still remember how my breathing became shallow and my legs became weak.

He untied my dress and it fell to the floor. He told me to spread my legs and not to move.


Spread them wider.


I had a hard time maintaining my balance and I thought I would readjust.

 I said, “don’t move!”


 He spread my legs for me. I didn’t move again.

He kissed me from behind my ear, down the back of my neck, along my spine and I gasped as I felt his big hands on my behind. I could see his reflection in the mirror and I watched him bend over. I watched his face disappear behind me and I knew what was about to happen. I inhaled deeply and I held my breath as I felt his warm tongue slide between my cheeks.

 How did he know?!

The thought didn’t last long; I couldn’t contain my excitement or this pleasure. I exhaled with a moan. My breath’s condensation surrounded my cheek. My legs began to tremble and I desperately needed to reposition them but I didn’t dare move.  His hands were firmly on my waist as he buried his face deeper. I saw the fog on the mirror appear and disappear with my moans and whimpers.

He slid one of his hands in between my legs and began to caress. We had only been in this motel room for 20 minutes, this was happening so fast but no part of me wanted this to stop. He continued to stroke my pussy and I knew that my wetness was ample. I hadn’t been this aroused in a very long time.

He spread my legs farther apart and buried his head deeper and began to taste me. He moved as if my moans were directions. Every thought that I had, he moved like he knew. I thought, lick my ass ag— and he was already there.

He turned me around and I watched him undress. I stared into his eyes; I looked at his pink lips as I bit mine. My eyes roamed his muscular body but they stopped when they saw what was hanging between his legs.



He pushed me down to my knees and grabbed my hair. He guided my head toward his dick, which was beckoning me. Seriously, it looked at me longingly. Maybe it didn’t, but that’s how it felt. It wanted me as badly as I wanted it. I looked up at him searching for approval as he filled my mouth.

He was pleased. He wrapped my hair around his hand and he pulled tighter. He turned my head toward the mirror as he promised he would.

Look at yourself.


As I watched, he slid his entire dick down my throat. I didn’t flinch. I welcomed it. It fit perfectly. My face was shiny, my eyes were glossy but I wanted this. I dreamed of it and it surpassed what my imagination created.

He pulled his dick out of my mouth and turned me toward the mirror. On my knees, he held my hands above my head as he pressed my body against the cold glass. I watched myself as I felt him kissing and licking me.

This is so fucking hot, I thought.

He guided me toward the bed and laid me down. He wrapped his hands around my ankles and yanked me toward him.

God, yes! I said to myself.


He lowered his body on top of me and kissed me deeply. His hands glided along my legs. He loves my legs. His hands found their way to the warmth that was glowing between my thighs. He kissed the inside of my thighs and then licked me slowly. My back arched immediately. I watched his muscular back in the mirror above us. I watched my face contort. I watched my breasts bounce. I’ve never known pleasure like this.

Breathe slowly for me.


I tried my best to control my breathing for him but my body had other plans in mind. He licked and touched inside of me with such finesse. I’ve never had a first encounter go this smoothly. With each stroke I felt like this was supposed to be happening. The stars aligned for this. This gorgeous man and I were supposed to experience each other. There is no other explanation.

I want you to cum for me.


He didn’t have to say that. I wanted to. I planned to. I-I did.

He rolled over and laid on his back. All I wanted to do was taste him again. I crawled in between his legs and licked his shaft. I slowly took him into my mouth. He looked into my eyes and told me what he wanted.

Let me hear you gag.


I slowly lowered my head as far as it would go and let my throat muscles relax. I braced myself with my hands on his pelvis. I bobbed up and down, saliva running down onto his thighs. The sounds seemed to please him. His moaning was driving me crazy. As I continued I could feel his dick swell inside of my mouth. He grabbed my hair and shoved his dick deeper. Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to please him. He stopped me.

He positioned me on the bed how he wanted me. I moved. C’mon, you had to know I was going to move. I was on all fours. I had to! He pushed my back down and lifted my pelvis and spread my legs with such force. My pussy throbbed. He kneeled behind me for a moment admiring my ass and caressing it. Then he spread my ass cheeks and slowly slid inside of me. I could only gasp. He stroked slowly because he knew that I was concerned about his size. As I began to ease into this rhythm he firmly grabbed my hips and slid all the way inside of me. I’m not one to cry during sex but my eyes began to sting. He felt so good. He gradually increased his speed and I met each stroke.


Oh shit!




You like that?




I can’t hear you. Tell me you like that.




I like it!




You love it? Tell me you love it.


I love it.


God, I loved it. His hands are so big and strong; the spanks reverberated throughout my body. Even though the sting was isolated to the red handprints I would eventually see when I got home later that night. He resumed his speed with his hands on my shoulders filling me up. He filled me all of the way up. I wanted to run but I couldn’t move. I had to take it and I did. I took it. I took all of it.

He repositioned me again. He wanted me on my back. He spread my legs. He looked me in the eyes as he slid inside of me. He slid all of the way inside. I clenched with each stroke.

I watched his body move in the mirror above me. I liked the mirrors. It was like I was physically experiencing what was actually in front of me but then I could look in the mirrors and experience it all over again from a different point of view. Watching his muscles tense and relax as he stroked. All of my senses were full of this man. I could smell him, I could feel him, I could taste him, I could— I could have just laid there and allowed this man to devour me. I would have let this man use me up until I didn’t have anything left to give. But we didn’t have the time. I could feel myself inching closer to climax so I took my head out of the clouds. My knees were pressed into my chest and I looked up at him and I asked him to choke me.  I pleaded.

He put my long legs on his shoulder. He placed his hand on my throat and tightened his grip. My entire body began to tingle. He pressed deep inside of me with this steady grip around my neck. I think I underestimated his strength. I became lightheaded. He milled deeper, he gripped tighter and I could feel it coming. With what little breath I could muster, I cursed, I screamed. I begged him to fuck me.

And he did. Well.

Months ago. And I’m sitting here with a real situation on my hands.

Frightening. This is foreign and it’s frightening. This is also intense. I can’t really grasp exactly how I feel. This is the most intensely passionate affair that I’ve ever had.

I can honestly say that I’ve never felt such an attraction to another person. Throw in this incredible sexual chemistry? I am craving this man. I need what he gives me.

Each and every moment of that night is forever emblazoned in my mind. It’s still so fresh. I can still feel his hands. I… think I’m in trouble.

An Adventure as Her: When Sparks Fly

I think the idea of newness as it pertains to relationships is something that isn’t discussed too openly. I mean, I guess I can understand why, but that doesn’t change how I feel about it. There’s nothing quite like a first kiss.  There’s nothing quite like that anticipation or the sparks you feel when you first experience another person.

I’ve shared with you all that I’m in an open relationship. I’ve also shared that I was a butterfly chaser. Meaning, I’ve jeopardized and eventually lost many relationships because the sparks fizzled out and I needed that newness. I needed those feelings again. I needed to feel that anxiety, that excitement, that wonder. I never figured out how to recapture those feelings, so I’d chase them. Lord knows how many otherwise incredible situations I’ve walked away from because of this. Fortunately, my partner and I are in a relationship that enables me to still chase those butterflies without sacrificing what we have.

 We’ve been together for several years now and I have only recently taken advantage of the fact that we’re open. That actually surprised the hell out of me. But I think that just goes to show you that monogamy is a choice. For years I chose to only be with him and experience him. There wasn’t that pressure that comes with the expectation of remaining faithful. I made the choice to remain faithful because I wanted to, not because I was expected to.

 I’ve kissed two people in the time that we’ve been together that weren’t my partner (with the exception of the third in a threesome we had). Only one of those kisses have led to something more, as of now. God, those sparks are incredible; that rush, that lust!

 I kissed her last fall and I can still remember how her soft lips felt pressed against mine. I can still remember how sweet her tongue was. I was hesitant but she wasn’t. She grabbed me by my waist and pulled me closer to her. I ran my fingers through her hair and kissed her back hard. There were eyes on us but at that moment I didn’t care, I couldn’t care. We were melting into each other and it just didn’t matter that we were in the middle of this hotel lobby with hundreds of people around us. We could have and should have gone back to my hotel room but we didn’t. And now I’m counting down until I can see her again, kiss her again and experience her. We’ve been talking about this for almost a year; it’s time to stop talking. The way I feel about her is no secret. She’s incredible and each time I see her body… I can’t wait until we can finish what we’ve started.

Some rights reserved by ChrisGoldNY

 I kissed him a bit more recently. I noticed him a while ago but I don’t think he noticed me. Nothing came of it but I remembered him. We ran into each other again. When I’ve discussed this experience before I’ve made a point each time to make sure that I explain that I was pretty damn drunk. But I’m changing the story. I mean, I was, but I’m not blaming it and I’m not hiding behind it. It’s a part of the story but that was certainly not the catalyst. Even when I discussed what happened with him, I told him that that embarrassed me. Since then, the embarrassment has passed. Now, I keep replaying that night over and over. Walking down a Manhattan street being pushed up against a fence by large hands, my face being held as he kissed me. More soft lips, God his lips were so soft. I can’t remember what we talked about and what we laughed about, but I remember how his kisses tasted. I remember how weak my knees felt when I pulled away to catch my breath. We found ourselves carving out some privacy in a very public space. I’m sure there were wandering eyes and listening ears but that didn’t matter. I’m sure we were making noise but that didn’t matter. It felt amazing. We touched and tasted each other across boroughs and yet, we still have unfinished business.

 At one point, I thought it was wrong of me to chase butterflies. Now I know it’s not the butterfly chasing that was wrong, it’s the jeopardizing of a good thing for a temporary feeling in a fleeting moment. I’m in a different space and now that I’m in a different type of relationship, I have found myself taking a stronger grip on the reigns of my sexuality. I am so incredibly in love with my partner, our relationship is the best that it’s ever been. I’m also ready to allow myself to explore people outside of our relationship because I feel secure enough in what our relationship is now.

 With that said, I have some loose ends to tie up (and possibly untie so that I can retie them) and I’m definitely looking forward to that.

As We Lay

It’s been over a year and a half since I last tasted his lips or felt his strong hands all over my body. Once in a while memories of our adventures seep into my consciousness and paralyze me with arousal. You’d think we just had each other yesterday. I can close my eyes and still see his deep chocolate skin glistening with sweat. I can still feel his plump lips all over my neck. I can still feel the warmth of his hands. I can still smell him. If you have never had that sexual partner who you could do any and everything with, with no hesitation, you haven’t really lived. I wish for all of you to have that at least once.

I’ve known him since I was a little girl. He’s a few years older than me. I always wanted him. As a young girl, in no other way than just to say he was mine. As I got older, the fantasies surrounding him matured too. When we ran into each other that day, all of those feelings, the crush, the fantasies, they all came rushing back. We stayed in touch. I was involved with someone, he wasn’t. It was innocent for a while. When my situation became toxic, he was still there. He didn’t encourage me to cheat, he didn’t lure me away. He simply posed a better option. I fought it for a while, and then one day I let myself just imagine it. That was my mistake. The moment that I allowed those thoughts to develop and become vivid, there was no turning back.

He didn’t disappoint.

Each time that we experienced each other we were doing something wrong, something that we weren’t supposed to be doing. I was cheating, and he was an accomplice. I knew each time I lied and escaped for a weekend to be with him that I was wrong. I was so far gone in my relationship and what he and I created was so amazing, I didn’t even care. I was a cheater, but I was also satisfied. I was also happy in those moments. Way happier than I had been at home with Him (my then boyfriend) for months. What we had was so complicated; it’s been difficult to explain since its inception.

We talked, but it was mostly about my terrible situation and making plans to see each other. We wouldn’t talk much when we were together. Clothes were being ripped off within the first five minutes. Words weren’t really exchanged after. I rolled over one way and he rolled over the other. We didn’t hold each other. I’d get up, get dressed and head home the next day. No hard feelings, in fact, no feelings. I think that was the strangest part. I’m more than capable of just having a physical relationship. I just wanted him so badly for so long, I just knew that I would eventually catch feelings. But I didn’t. I tried to force myself. But I couldn’t. I didn’t spend too much time dwelling on this. He served his purpose. After all, I was still in my situation. 80% of the time I was with Him, although my heart was in limbo. The other 20% of the time I was in someone else’s bed, tangled in someone else’s lust, in someone else’s arm, I was someone else’s fantasy. And I loved it.

I don’t think a man has ever craved my body the way that he did. I have never been praised and pampered, the way that he praised and pampered me. He loved every inch of me, every ounce of me. He loved my body in ways that you only read about in books and see in movies. It was surreal, it’s still surreal for me. He wasn’t afraid to tell me how badly he wanted me. He wasn’t afraid to take control of me. He picked me up and held me down, he pulled my hair, he bit my neck, and he sucked all ten of my toes and licked crevices on my body that have never been touched by another person.

I was drowning in my relationship; I was dying as each day passed. When I was with him, he breathed life into me. He reminded me that I’m beautiful. He reminded me that I’m sexy. He showed me that there was more out there than the situation that I chose to remain in. Opposites truly attract. He was something that I wasn’t used to. He was attentive. He was vocal. He was strong and masculine, yet gentle. He wanted to play music and light candles. He wanted to run me a bath and join me. He wanted to massage me and arouse me. He wanted me to climax as many times and in as many ways as my body could stand. And then there’s me. The stuff he was into was just something for the movies; I liked real, raw sex. Ravage my body. Take me here and now. Pull my hair and restrain me. He forced me to explore the other side. He taught me to slow it down and appreciate the small moments. We attacked all of the usual positions and scenarios and then ventured to discover new ways to have each other.

I loved each and every moment of our time together. I fell in love with his sex. I just couldn’t see myself falling in love with him. That’s what tripped me out. We were so incredibly compatible; we were so amazingly in tune. Yet, the moment we were standing up, clothed, and with the lights on- everything that we built laying down just seemed to crumble. We were two strangers in the light, but our bodies were soul mates in the dark. How is that possible? I wracked my brain trying to make sense of it. I tried to force feelings, I tried to force more, but it just didn’t click. We just didn’t click. I wanted more than orgasms and moans, and that was all he could give me. I was able to appreciate our moments but I knew I wanted more. He’s smart. Has a job. Two degrees. Tall, chocolate and muscular. Funny. Sweet. Caring. Considerate. Firm. All of the things I love in men and would look for in a partner. Our spirits just weren’t for each other.

I was confused for a long time, but then I just learned to accept it. What we had was all it was meant to be. A stich in time. Memories that will never be forgotten. A story to tell. The reason why I sometimes clinch my thighs and close my eyes. I see him smiling in pictures with her and I feel no ill feelings. I’m in my (new)relationship, I am  happy and satisfied.  He appears to be happy. She appears to be happy. All is well. I’m glad that I had him in that space and time. He made me feel ways that some women will never experience. For that, I’m lucky and I’m grateful. I’ve learned to accept that our paths no longer coincide. So, I’m left with flashbacks and memories… and I’m okay with that.

Fuck Monogamy

Many relationships meet a premature demise due to infidelity.

Most people will be cheated on or will cheat at some point in their lives. This is a sad reality. While men are more likely to cheat, women cheat as well. Female infidelity is becoming more and more common.

We always want to know why people cheat. Why step outside of your relationship? Why risk everything for one moment? Oh, you thought I was going to answer these questions? I wouldn’t dare attempt to account for every cheater that ever cheated. I addressed my own reasons for cheating in The Promiscuous Bisexual. I’m more curious as to why people set themselves up to cheat. Why commit to someone if you know you’re not ready to abide by the rules of that relationship? Why agree to be monogamous if you don’t believe in monogamy?

The heart break that comes along with an unfaithful partner or repeated unfaithful partners will always be incredibly tough to deal with. Being a victim of infidelity often results in tremendous trust issues.

(I’m going to use male references and pronouns throughout this piece. That does not mean that cheating isn’t common in bi- and homosexual relationships. )

I’ve been cheated on more times than I can actually bear to recall. I’ve been on the slighted side in almost all of my relationships.  I didn’t blame myself for their cheating, but I blamed myself for believing in the fairy tales. As girls, we’re often taught about the knight in shining armor, the prince that will sweep you off your feet, or this idealistic male figure who you will fall in love with. Our mothers, grandmothers, and aunts often keep their stories of being cheated on, and even abused, secret until we’re adults having had experienced it for ourselves. They don’t sit us down as young girls or young ladies and teach us that some men cheat. They prepare us for breasts and periods, but they don’t prepare us for infidelity. Grandma doesn’t tell us that Grandpa had three mistresses throughout their marriage. Mommy doesn’t admit that Daddy has a side-piece, still. We eventually come to find this out the hard way. We fall pray to the smiling man, the shiny man, that man that makes us feel amazing. And when that shiny, pretty man cheats on us, we’re stuck. What happened? Why me? What did I do? What am I supposed to do? And failed relationship, after failed relationship we begin to lose hope in that ideal mate. We begin to lose hope that there will be someone out there who won’t cheat on me, because it seems everyone does it. Everyone doesn’t do it.

 As a reformed cheater, I can admit that I wish that I hadn’t fallen for temptation and had been able to respect my relationship. I wanted what I wanted, but what I wanted was not to hurt my partner(s). It’s just difficult to be honest about certain things, such as admitting to wanting to sexually experience another person. Most people won’t respond to that statement positively.  

Society has taught us that monogamy is the norm. We’re supposed to be monogamous; one man for one woman. Most of us follow what society deems as normal. So when I tell you I’m in an open relationship, eyebrows are going to shoot up all around cyber-space. I’ve heard it all already, so don’t feel discouraged to leave your comments and your thoughts below.  Biological evidence supports the theory that long-term monogamy is difficult for humans to achieve – NOT impossible, but difficult. It takes a very strong-willed and dedicated person to remain not only socially monogamous, but sexually monogamous as well. And for those of you out there, who are long-term monogamous? I certainly tip my hat off to you.

I don’t feel any pressure to conform what society says is right for my relationship. I’m so happy and grateful to have been able to meet someone who believes what I believe and is willing to give it a try. My feelings toward social monogamy are complicated. I would like to commit my heart to one person. Sexually? I don’t understand why I must only sleep with that one person. Not abiding my sexual monogamy doesn’t mean be a slut or a STI bucket. Do NOT think that’s what I’m promoting. But we’re adults. And we’re humans. The odds are that we’re going to be sexually attracted to plenty of people in our lifetime. So why is it that terrible to want to experience them? If you’re disrespecting your partner or your relationship, why is it “wrong”?

Being in an open-relationship isn’t about having a free pass to screw whomever. It’s an agreement between you and your partner to honor your relationship, and to abide by the rules that you two set for your relationship. For us, cheating is breaking any of the rules that we have set for each other. Honesty is the number one rule. If we discuss and agree that I can have another partner, I’m not cheating. If I go behind my partner’s back and sleep with someone, now I am. I violated the honor code between us.

It’s not for everyone, just as threesomes aren’t for everyone. You two need to be clear about what is and isn’t okay. You two need to maintain an open and honest decorum with each other. You two need to be the primary focus. Your relationship needs to be intact before you even consider sleeping with someone else, or if you two agree on it, dating someone else.

I’m always amused by the reactions, and mostly by the judgments. I’m mostly amused by the judgments of people who are in unhappy relationships, and have no idea where the partner is or has been. Why are the people with the house of hay the first to blow? If you’re happy in your situation, good for you, be happy for mine. If you’re not happy in your situation work on that, and let that be the focal point of your energy. It’s amazing the things that people will say on a topic that they have know first-hand knowledge of. I’ve been told I’m crazy, I’ve been told there isn’t any way that my partner truly loves me for my partner to be okay with me sleeping with other people. Interesting how they attacked my partner for this, but not me for being okay with my partner sleeping with other people. This is a mutual decision between the two of us. I don’t think I’m loved any less because this is how we live. If anything, I feel loved more, cherished more, because my happiness matters. I’m not expected to conform to some bullshit ideal of what it means to be faithful. I’m faithful because my heart belongs to my partner. I’m faithful because I maintain my relationship and that’s my first priority. I’m faithful because I respect my partner and my relationship.  But, you know, I understand that it’s difficult to accept new things. I understand it’s difficult to rewire your mind to believe something different than what you’ve been spoon-fed forever. I’ll let you guys swallow this. I won’t even talk about the time I tried to have a polyamorous relationship with my ex-girlfriend and boyfriend.

There is no book that was written centuries ago that has the rules for relationships. There is also not a book that was written centuries ago with standards for what is considered cheating.  So, in my opinion, it stands to reason that following some predetermined idea of what cheating is and bringing that into your unique relationship is a bad idea to begin with.

Most people don’t sit down prior to taking that next step into being serious, to discuss what their definition of cheating is. It seems a lot of people just go by what society says. Guess what? Society isn’t in your relationship. Society also is not going to fix it when things go awry. So why depend on society to tell you how to exist within your relationship?

For some cheating is purely physical, while for others cheating can include the emotional. If you and your partner aren’t clear about what’s cheating, how will you know if you’re cheating? How will you know if you’re wrong? You won’t. You won’t know until it’s too late. Have that discussion. If you’re already together have it now.

According to David Barash, “Anthropologists report that the overwhelming majority of human societies either are polygynous or were polygynous prior to the cultural homogenization of recent decades.” So I ask you, why do you think that monogamy is the way? Why do you think the way you do about relationships?  What is cheating to you?

Bisexual: Fad or Lifestyle


Although we are seeing an influx in ladies claiming to be bisexual, there are still plenty of people out there who don’t believe in bisexuality. It is true that bisexuality has become a fad, that can’t be denied. Plenty of ladies get a few drinks and now their best friend looks sexy and woops!!! They’re making out on a dance floor. Now, as a lady who loves ladies, I don’t mind watching. I don’t mind the bi-curious ladies out there at all.  If it makes you happy, by all means. I’ll grab the popcorn, a seat and enjoy the show. After all, that’s all it is. You’re not going to begin dating her. You’re not going to develop a relationship with her. You’re not going to fall in love with her. You’re just going to make out when you’re drunk. And if you’re really intoxicated, you might even go all the way. But that’s all. There will be no real connection or commitment. Just fun.

I can’t speak for every lesbian or bisexual women and say that bi-curious females are accepted by us all. I can only speak for myself. The drunk best friends putting on a show in the club do NOT reflect me.  I just happen to know a lot of gold star lesbians who are disturbed by this and other bisexual women. They tend to feel like they make a mockery of this lifestyle. They feel that it’s a game. Meanwhile, there are lesbians and bisexual women who are fighting to be taken seriously. A lot of people don’t believe that there are lesbians who have NEVER had sex with men, but that’s another post for another time.

There is nothing more irritating and pathetic than a man trying to convince me that I’m not bisexual. Who are you to tell me? The reality is, you just have a difficult time accepting the fact that I wouldn’t sleep with you with a rented vagina, but your sister? Oh, she could get seven days a week and twice on Sunday.

I’m curious as to why it’s so hard to believe that a woman could genuinely enjoy both men and women? Why must it be considered being confused? There isn’t any confusion about it. I am attracted to both men and women. I have been in relationships with both men and women. I have been in love with both men and women. Shit, I’ve been engaged to both a man and woman. No confusion. Sure, I’m more attracted to females. That doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian. I couldn’t lie to myself and say, “Nope, penis does not do it for me.” I couldn’t. I’ve learned to be honest with myself. It’s not about what other people think. I love the smell, the feel, and the taste of a woman. And I love the smell, the feel, and the strength of a man. I love performing oral sex on a woman just as much as I enjoy performing oral sex on a man. No confusion. I don’t suck dick and then afterward feel some sort of internal conflict. I don’t give a lady oral sex until she climaxes and then cower in a corner cursing God for this confusion. I am bisexual. I’m not confused. I’m not experimenting.

I actually didn’t have a phase of experimentation. I recall being as young as 8 and being attracted to the older girls in the neighborhood. I never felt ashamed or embarrassed. I didn’t go around grabbing breasts and smacking asses, either. I shared my ‘secret’ with my closest friends, and that was that. I had my first girlfriend by 15, second by 17. It was with the second that I had my first sexual encounter. It was EVERYTHING I imagined. I wasn’t one bit nervous or hesitant. I couldn’t wait until I got her clothes off and saw her body. I actually had to consciously calm myself down because I was so excited. I had absolutely no hesitation about going down on her. I wanted to. I needed to. And i did. It was amazing. I loved the way she gasped when my tongue first touched her. I loved the way she rotated her hips to find her own rhythm. I loved the way she smelled and the way she tasted. I loved feeling her tightness and warmth around my index finger. I was her first (female sexual partner). She was mine. You wouldn’t know by watching me though. I can honestly close my eyes and remember everything about those two hours. Two hours??!! Yes! Oh, the joys of sex with females. It’s not over as soon as someone reaches orgasm.

I never truly questioned my sexuality. I never probed deeper. I accepted myself from the beginning. And I acknowledged my sexual preferences and left it at that. I never had a coming out process, because I never actually hid my sexuality. You don’t have to broadcast your sexuality to be “out”. I’ve also never claimed to be straight or gay. I don’t want represent something that I am not. I don’t want to take away from the lesbian experience.  I support it 110%. I just didn’t face many struggles that a lot have.

I also don’t want to be mistaken as straight. So sir, when I say I’m not interested- I’m NOT interested. When you discover that I am also attracted to women that does NOT mean  I want to have a threesome with you or have sex with a woman in front of you. When you discover that I am also attracted to women do NOT tell me that I’m confused. Do NOT tell me that I just haven’t had the right dick. I’ve had my share of dick and some of it has been mind-blowing. But that doesn’t take away my desire to be with a women. It doesn’t take away my attraction of women. It doesn’t make up for the taste, smell and feel of a women. Never can. For me, the two sexual experiences can not be compared.

I’m not confused. I’m bisexual. There’s a difference.