Sunday, January 25, 2009

Gem and the Irishman

I have always assumed that I would be no good at polyamory. I can handle the idea of having a lot of lovers who were also my friends, and Boy having the same, but somehow the idea of having more than one relationship, I mean capital R Relationship, I couldn't do. Two boyfriends I do not have, nor do I intend to.

I have one Boyfriend, and one Irishman, and at the moment that's more or less it. Not that I'm complaining, I'm blessed. I'm a happy girl. This is a thing that makes me happy.

Now when there is something that makes me happy, a book or a TV show or a meal or a song, I share it with the people I love. I like to make them happy, too.

And that I think, is why I decided that my old and very dear friend Gem needed to bone the Irishman.

In about those words, I informed both Gem and the Irishman of this fact, and the pair of them, they waffled, until finally Gem suggested that perhaps she might come down and visit us, and perhaps while she was at it I might invite somebody else, perhaps, somebody specific, to come and visit too.

So yesterday there we all were, in my sunny apartment, eating gingersnaps and hanging out. Sitting around and chatting, the Irishman and Boy and I occasionally sticking our heads together and plotting a bit, and then asking Gem over to stand just there, and maybe she might take her shirt off, and could I have her ankle, until she was half-suspended from the hardpoint in the arch between our two main rooms, rope-bedecked and spinning when she lost her footing.

It was a lovely thing, and we all had a go at her. Boy, as is his wont whenever he has the option, hung in the background, doing technical things, rigging and re-rigging and handing various implements of destruction to the Irishman or myself. I hit her in was I have hit her before and ways that I have not, and as ever when I play with her, I was overwhelmed by her big blue eyes and my desire to take care of her. The Irishman stood behind her and fisted his hand in her hair and held her, doing ever-so-subtle things with his hand to cause her to writhe and gasp.

And there were times that I thought that I wanted to be where she was, but the truth is that just changing places wouldn't have given me that. She was in a place where three people, two who knew her very well and one not at all, were slowly feeling their way through a scene with her at the center, and one of them had real potential and charge. If I had been tied up I would have been with the only two people I regularly sleep with and my sweet but definitively submissive best friend. Gem would likely have grinned alot and done her part, but the Irishman and Boy would not have been gently feeling things out. They would be on me like a hurricane made of grizzly bears, and I would be the frantic, turned on, terrified ball of energy I am when stuff like that happens.

Eventually we took her down and the night petered off into dinner and Dr. Who? and silliness, and Gem and the Irishman cuddled, sometimes with me or Boy and me, sometimes on their own. And eventually they shared a single bed, and they left together in the morning, and what exactly went on between then I don't know.

I am happy for them. They are two great people who could have a great thing, and by a great thing I mean great sex. Actually, who knows? Maybe more.

But it is an odd thing for me, to have decided that my lover needed to sleep with my friend, and put so much effort into making it happen. I have hooked my friends up with ex-boyfriends in the past, but I have never shared before.

I just hope that sharing it remains.


Blogger maymay said...

You know, what I'm about to say may sound like inappropriate aggrandizement to some, but I wholeheartedly believe that it is this, right here, exactly what you have described doing in your post, that is the root of all good things in this universe. There is absolutely nothing—and I mean nothing—that creates more goodness in the world than this.

I just wish the immense Good that this sort of thing generates was recognized, pursued, and accepted, by more people. I also wish that people (like me) who struggle to deal with the harsh realities of the unfair imbalance between those who get to be a part of these opportunities and those who don't are able to cope with it constructively. I try, but it is very painful.

I sorely miss the better world I am trying to make day by day….

12:44 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i believe we agreed the term was 'cock on call.'

i can imagine myself speaking roast beef's line in panel 5, but for very different reasons.


ps - boy, we should start a band called 'hurricane made of grizzly bears.' it will be so metal.

6:46 PM  
Blogger The Boy said...

hurricane made of grizzly bears is a great name, i'm just not sure how the band part would work. maybe just atonal growling?

i suppose i'm not doing quite the same kind of sharing, but it seems to be working out well, & i wish all of us happiness in our respective bonings.
or something along those lines.

6:45 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now keep it up!

7:46 PM  

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