This is part two in a “whenever I get around to it” series, in which I answer your questions to the best of my ability, using my characteristic foul-mouthed, minimal-nonsense approach, based almost entirely on my own ridiculous and often totally batshit life.
You can ask me anything. I know some shit about relationships and communication, I know a bit about the beating of brain monkeys and the support of others who are doing so. I know some shit about parenting, I guess. I may or may not have useful advice – I make no promises. But for whatever it is worth, and whatever questionable wisdom I may have gathered, I am happy to share. 🙂
If you ask me something and I don’t know the answer I will do my best to point you in the right direction.
I hasten to add that I am not a medical professional, I’m just one human who has been through a lot of crap and learned some stuff along the way, and maybe has something useful to share on the matter. Some of what I have said about my own journey has seemed to resonate with people, so maybe I can help some folks. That would be awesome.
Be warned that this post addresses things of a sexy and kinky nature. If you don’t want to know such stuff about me (I’m looking at you, Mom), you should probably stop reading.
Okay, so here goes. Three questions.
How do I prepare for a kink scene? What to bring etc
Okay, so for this one I had to go talk to a few people. I have not personally done anything which can really be regarded as a scene. My kink experience has been entirely tied up (if you’ll forgive the phrase) in existing relationships and exploring stuff with those people. Which means a lot of the baseline things were already pretty much covered. So if you have more experience than I do (which, if you’ve ever done a scene, you do), please feel free to add advice in the comments. 🙂
Also, this question could mean multiple things. Do you mean, like, a personal one-on-one scene with someone with whom you have not played before? Do you mean a scene at a play party? There will be differences, but some of the base stuff I am about to say applies across the board.
The first thing (and you’re going to find as these posts unfold, that this is almost always going to be my first piece of advice) is that it’s probably a good idea to talk to the person/people involved with the scene. Ask: “What should I bring?”. If they’re experienced, they’ll be able to give you a good idea. Also, making sure your expectations match their expectations is a very good idea. Will you be staying the night? Do they expect you to provide toys or implements? The best prep you can make is to make sure that everyone knows what’s on the table and what’s not, everyone is on the same page about what you expect to happen, everyone understands the lines and the boundaries and all that good stuff.
Make sure you are safe. Both in the “use protection if the scene involves anything that requires it” sense, but also in the sense of, if this is a new play partner, make sure someone knows where you’re going to be, make sure you have someone you can call to come and get you if needed, or someone you can check in with, or whatever you require, to feel safe.
If you’re new to kink (which this question sort of implies) make sure they know that. People can react in unexpected ways to new experiences, and whether you’re topping or bottoming, it is important that the person/people you’re playing with know that this is new for you and that you (plural) proceed accordingly.
Take water and snacks. 🙂 That shit takes it out of you, plus it can help bridge the gap to bring you back to the real world.
Please, for the love of all that is good in the world, do not mix alcohol with new kink experiences. I realise that this happens all the damned time (and I have made this very mistake my own self – luckily for me, I was with people I could trust absolutely), but it is really not a great idea. Successful kink involves paying attention and respecting boundaries and both of those things are much much more difficult when you introduce alcohol into the equation. Maybe, MAYBE, it’s okay once you have a rapport and a good level of trust and you know what you (and your partners) like and all the lines and whatnot, but while you’re still learning those things, BLOODY STAY SOBER. Please. For your safety and everyone else’s.
I’m going along with the occasional menage with my husband and a buddy of his who I really don’t like simply because I *love* the way my husband looks at me when we’re trick fucking with this guy. Thoughts?
It sounds like you’re looking for validation, or for me to tell you that’s okay, which I’m gonna. But with some caveats. 😉
My answer is a bit nuanced. Of course the standard answer is, like, you probably shouldn’t shag someone you don’t want to shag, but I can see that this situation is a bit blurry. Thing is, when you’re in a relationship, you often do stuff you’re not super crazy about because your partner loves it. And I don’t really think there’s anything wrong with that. You want them to be happy and turned on, so you do the things that make them happy and turned on, because you like having that effect on them, and because, well, making them happy and turned on makes you happy and turned on. You know?
And I think as long as, to a reasonable degree, it’s reciprocated, that’s cool. If he loves you in that mini skirt you don’t really like and only ever wear for him, it’s cool to wear it, as long as he also does that thing with his tongue that he’s not wild about doing but it makes you completely crazy. You know what I’m saying? Give and take. That’s the key. (It shouldn’t be transactional, I hasten to add. You wear the mini skirt cos he loves it, not so that he’ll do the thing with his tongue. But it should be reciprocated in the sense that if only one of you is ever doing the thing, there’s a problem.)
Okay, so I don’t think there’s anything fundamentally wrong with doing something you’re a bit meh about just because you love that it makes him super happy. BUT in this case the something is a person, and that makes things a bit more complicated. Because I guess the answer to whether this is okay or not, is how the people involved would feel if they knew the truth. Would this guy be mortified to discover you’re not that into him? Would your husband be appalled to discover you’ve been shagging this dude just to keep him happy? If the answers are no, then go ahead and do the thing. Everyone’s happy, no one is getting hurt? WIN.
But if either of those answers is maybe yes? Then you probably need to have a conversation with your husband and, maybe, depending on the nature of the relationship, with the other dude. . Maybe there’s another solution? Maybe you can find someone you’re both super into? Maybe it turns out this guy is totally into the idea of you doing this ONLY to make your hubby make that face he makes, in which case, again, WIN.
In short, my answer is, if everyone’s expectations meet reality, and everyone is having a good time and no one (including you) is getting hurt, then do what you wish. No judgement here. But if someone thinks something different is happening to what is actually happening, or if there is a chance that someone will be hurt by it, then you should probably re-evaluate.
You’ve done the poly thing at various stages. Did it ever get to being more than two in a bed, and if so, how did that work out?
Your question is a tad ambiguous, but yes, I have been in that situation. You could be asking how to have a successful threesome, or you could be asking how to have a successful triad, and those (while overlapping) are very different questions.
The first is much easier to address. Basically, it comes down to expectations, I think. People who have never had threesomes I think often imagine them with themself at the centre. They, essentially, imagine a V. And, you know, being in the centre can be extremely fun! But, properly successful threesomes are more of a triangle, and you cannot always be at the centre. There’s a lot more turn-taking and ganging-up (in a fun way).
I’m of the opinion that threesomes are better when everyone involved is into everyone else involved. I’ve been in a threesome with someone who I am pretty sure was only into me to the extent that it gave them access to my partner and that was irritating. It was fun, but part of me was like, seriously, you could probably have just asked nicely and I could have wandered off and read my book instead. You know? (I wasn’t hurt or offended, just kind of mildly peeved. And unfortunately for them I read people well enough that their faked interest was obvious to me when I thought about it.)
So here’s my advice. Threesomes can be awesome fun, but they can also be fraught with peril. Try to make sure everyone’s expectations are clear and that the expectation meets the reality. Try to make sure no one gets left out. Try to make sure everyone knows that a bit of turn taking is in order. If two of you are in an existing relationship and you’re adding a third person to the mix (temporarily or otherwise), recognise that the third person is a PERSON and not a toy for your titillation. Recognise that the two of you have history and an existing understanding of each other’s buttons/preferences etc that the new person doesn’t share, and that you need to allow for that.
Try and make sure everyone leaves the encounter feeling valued and nice and post-orgasmic. 😉 Orgasms don’t need to be and arguably shouldn’t be the ultimate goal, but it’s nice if everyone has at least one. More important than the orgasm though is that no one feels cheapened. And that is best done by managing expectations from the outset. This means lots of communication! It can be tricky. There is bound to be a certain amount of imbalance, but as long as everyone feels that they were properly included and respected, and not like a toy used for your funsies (unless that’s their thing, in which case WIN, but that should be clear from the outset), then it can be really super fun. 🙂
Triads though? That’s a whole nother kettle of fish. I have been in one, and it worked, mostly, for a while, but ultimately fell apart for many complex reasons. The most easy to pinpoint was the fact that it was extremely unbalanced, emotionally, in ways that were not reconcilable. There was also a geography factor that became impossible to remedy.
I suppose, my advice for successful triading, based on my one experience, is much the same. Managing expectations and keeping the lines of communication as open as possible. Making sure, as much as possible, that everyone feels valued and respected and included.
While it worked, it was pretty special. 🙂 We just had a lot of other stuff going on at the time that made it unsustainable. Because, humans, you know. We’re complex mother-fuckers.