The First Love, Part II

The day that Spencer and Judith had arranged to have their first sexual encounter, I'd arranged to go to the movies [I remember it was Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy] with a platonic guy friend of mine. He apparently didn't notice how nervous and shaky I was the whole time, thinking of what Spencer was doing at home.

I believe I was intellectually ready -- most of us in this lifestyle say we are -- but the actual leap from an academic discussion of poly to going the full step of caring penetration with another is just that, a leap -- of trust, and faith -- me trusting that Spencer won't go too far emotionally, and he trusting me that I won't in the end wig out.

Well, I didn't wig out, and though it was a difficult step, I was glad that Spencer and Judith had a good time together. It was a feeling of compersion for two people I genuinely cared about and loved.

The problem started with Spencer's growing love for Judith growing into an almost obsession with Judith. Wanting to know if I'd talked to her; she didn't write him back right away, is she off him or ignoring him? Is she talking to other guys? Calling her at her work when he should have been calling me at mine. Yes, after several months of this, I got jealous, and sometimes downright mad.

Spencer does have a habit of latching on to a relationship and nearly driving it into the ground; it's something he's working on now, but back then, I was sick of it. If I heard her name once more I was going to scream!

Eventually, because of conflicts brought on by Spencer's modus operandi, and because of other things on Judith's part, they did go separate ways. I had to say I was relieved, though there was the continual questioning of me if I'd talked to her or seen her and if she asked about Spencer.

Soon however, the tables were going to be turned after we met a couple through Swing Lifestyle, George and Hillary.

And did I ever fall for George.

~Pym

Just For Fun

I was wondering if anyone had their own names for sexual positions they do with partners -- as in something you did spontaneously and gave a name to later?

Here are ours [so far], named after the motel/hotels in which they occurred, with a brief description of position:

1) The Gold Strike: me on bathroom counter, Spencer and I facing each other, my back up to mirror, I should've worn a helmet

2) The Motel 6: me leaning over bathroom counter, Spencer getting me "doggy style", hurt to walk for to 2 days [seriously]

3) The Sam's Town: it's why there are luggage racks in hotel rooms; that's all I'm gonna say...

We hope to make more memories, but feel free to share some of yours! ;O)

--Pym

Steps in the Right Direction

This morning we experienced what I like to call a breakthrough. I had my usual counseling session but arranged to bring Spencer along, and I believe he got something positive out of it.

The counselor was a guy a bit younger than us but who seemed to really understand where Spencer was coming from. And I think, after a little initial awkwardness, Spencer felt comfortable talking about some important issues.

I told him how proud I am of him that he's making this effort and is willing to work on things. And as I know he's not the only one, I'm also willing to work on my issues that affect him and us.

In a sort-of-related aside, I am so thankful to have the insurance coverage to pay for my psychiatric and counseling sessions. In this country, mental health issues take a back seat to "physical" ailments, but so many aspects of our lives hinge on our mental health. Virtually all aspects. How else could we function day to day? And it's a true shame that affordable care isn't more readily available. *stepping down from soapbox*

--Pym

New Year's Revelations

The first day of my new year I spent in self-inflicted agony after consuming a bottle of white zinfandel and a bottle of pink champagne New Year's Eve...which brings back the question: is Spencer the only one with the drinking problem? I don't want to answer it today, but it is something to think about.

Today's the second day into the new year, and I'm feeling miles better; but now Spencer is down for the count with a cold. It's my turn to care for him as he cared for me yesterday. He was kinder to me in my hungover state than I would have been to him, I admit.

We're doing some much-needed cleaning around our house, including going through years of papers belonging to us and to his recently deceased mom. Shredding and plowing through all this stuff is cathartic.

Something else that was cathartic for Spencer was, on New Year's Eve, while blazing drunk, he kept muttering "I've done you wrong, I've done you wrong." Of course one can't say that and not expect the other person to keep prying as to "what is it you've done??" Being that I was also three sheets to the wind, I figured I wasn't going to care much whatever it was.

It turns out that, before we were actually married but after we'd become a couple, Spencer had some sexual exploits about which I was not informed. He says he cheated but as we weren't married yet, I can't use as strong a word. And since I'd out-and-out cheated in my first marriage, I don't have much of a leg to stand on anyway. I'm just truly glad that he feels better for having told me. And really the timing couldn't have been better seeing as how I was happily toasted at the time of the revelation.

I'm oddly not mad at all. We've been married a few years now and anything before seems so long ago anyway. I did take the opportunity while the air was being cleared to tell Spencer about a couple instances in which Cary and I performed acts I wasn't forthcoming about myself. Spencer knows of all the times when Cary and I have met, but I didn't feel I could reveal that a) Cary and I did anal and b) I swallowed [well at least 75% of it] once with Cary; things that I hadn't done with Spencer in a long time, and I thought it would hurt his feelings that I did these things with someone else.

So those instances are off my chest, and now, too, I've revealed this blog to Spencer. He can read it all he wants, but if he gets angry at my honesty and wants to vent, he can get his own blog.

We'll have to think of a suitable acronym for him: PAYMANDS? Polyamorous Alcoholic Yankee Married to an Anxious Neurotic in the Deep South?

PYMADS, or, Call me Pym

PYMADS stands for: Polyamorous Yankee Married to an Alcoholic in the Deep South...or I'll go by Pym for short...hence Pym's Escape.

I'm in love with two men, neither who yet knows I'm blogging, though it's not just about them. Somehow, as a Yankee I've ended up in the Deep South, married to another exile from the North who happens to be an alcoholic.

I'll call him Spencer, [names will be changed for CYA purposes] NOT after that milque-toast pseudo-celebrity, but after the Spencer Tracy/Kate Hepburn love affair: equal-minded, intelligent souls involved in unconventional love, and he a raging alcoholic or so I've heard. Doomed somehow, but timeless. If only I looked like her...

I'm married to and in love with Spencer, a handsome troubled soul, who is loving and solicitous to me, and has the libido of [his favorite phrase]: a "three-balled Tomcat". From the first, though our new sex-life was exceptional, we knew we would be an unconventional couple, and though we didn't know the word yet: polyamorous. I had strayed in a past marriage and swore I would never do it again. Knowing how much we both enjoy physical loving intimacy, and knowing a human-being's penchant to not be monogamous, we were honest from the beginning that we'd eventually take the open marriage route.

We dabbled in "swinging" and realized it wasn't for us. Too loose and free for us and too hurtful, as we'd develop feelings for others who wanted only the physical. We started looking into polyamory, of which there are almost infinite degrees. Into that philosophy of love and life we've carved our own little niche.

I realize most people would think that all this dabbling would be a death-knell to a marriage. Actually the polyamory has been a blessed outlet for us both. It's the least cause of tension in our marriage. That honor goes to alcoholism.

Spencer didn't start drinking until his early 20s, which makes me think, if he made it all through his teen years without drinking, why even start?? But his traumatic childhood and genetics caught up with him, and now he has this one more demon on his back. It's a strong reason why our polyamory gives us both an escape from day-to-day responsibilities. And me an escape from the drunkenness.

He's a wonderful person, Spencer, and when sober is my soul-mated Dr. Jekyll...when drunk, a raving Mr. Hyde. How do I deal with it? Mostly with love, some Al-Anon meetings, support from Spencer's girlfriend Amanda [more on her in another post], friends, now-thin patience, xanax, port, and Cary: the other man I love.

Cary's marriage is also an open one, though I'm not convinced it's without some problems of its own. I try to not press him for any details; I just want to be his escape as he's mine. I try to not let him know of the "drama" in my life, though I'm sure he does. I feel like the less baggage I bring into our relationship, the longer it will last. He's sweet and soft, very sexual but also very shy. I liken Spencer to a thick multi-layered devil's food cake; Cary is the lickable butter-cream frosting on top...more tenuous in structure, but I could bathe in a vat of that frosting.

Have I stayed on my opening topic? I am a PYMADS who is trying to stay sane in a still-somewhat-strange, judgmental culture. But it's all life, isn't it? Love, life, sharing, compassion, paychecks and bootstraps. And xanax.