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On polyamory

I sleep with a few different guys, but I’d never use the word ‘polyamorous’. This is mainly because my selfish brain struggles with the idea of engaging in an actual relationship with multiple boys rather than just shagging them, twatting about and then going for beer and pizza.

Ever in search of the truth about these matters, and a bit of filthy gossip, I asked someone who actually is polyamorous to come along and disagree with me.

Below is my pathetic rambling, and her embarrassingly good response. As ever, feel free to disagree vociferously with either of us, or tell us deliciously sordid things about your own sex life in the comments.

Here’s why I’m not polyamorous

As far as I understand it, poly means you love more than one person – you exist within a group that can have often very complex emotional attachments between multiple people. And that, my friends, sounds bloody hard.

OK, on the up-side, you get to have not just sex but also all the nice relationship-y stuff with more than one person. But on the down-side, you have to invest into each of those people the same amount of time that monogamous people invest in their one-on-one commitments.

It’s difficult enough finding one person to love, let alone two, or three, or sixty-seven. And it’s hard enough keeping one person happy without having to worry that the time you’re spending with number 1 is time you should really be spending with number 2, helping number 3 redraft his CV, or shopping for a present for number 4 because it’s his birthday next week and you want to do something special.

I’m not polyamorous. I’m a slag

Despite people explaining my general sluttery to me by saying “oh, OK, so you’re poly”, it took me a while to figure out that I’m actually not. I am very fond of all of my regular boys, and I’m very grateful to the odd few who are willing to furnish me with one-night stands or occasional play. But I don’t love them all – I don’t have relationships with them all.

To call what I do ‘poly’ is probably deeply offensive to polyamorous people, who take the ‘amorous’ bit seriously and treat their partners like they’re special. Give me a stable full of boys: willing boys, kind boys, beautiful, funny, hot boys of all different shapes, sizes and inclinations. But don’t make me remember their fucking birthdays.

Poly’s usually a two-way street

If I were in a poly relationship I’d become rapidly unstuck – the agreement is such that if I can shag other people, and hang out with other boys, then so can my boys. I have to care for them and make them feel special, and give them attention, and love them like they’re precious. I then have to let these special, precious, hot-fucking things bugger off every now and then and bestow their hotness on people who aren’t me. I categorically hate this.

I think what I’m saying is that poly requires you to a) have emotions and then b) rigidly control them. Which is not only not easy but, I’d argue, an incredibly difficult thing to ask of fallible human beings.

Guest post from LB: Why I am poly

The single most common response when I tell people that I’m poly is “where do you find the time?”

It’s a reasonable assumption when the word for that relationship style literally means “many loves”. To most monogamous people, being poly means that you’re having  serious loving relationships like they do, but lots of them, all at once.

But the truth is – and you might want to sit down for this – I don’t love everyone I’m fucking equally. I don’t love some of them at all. If I had to love everyone equally and spend as much time and emotional energy on all of them, just to get in their pants, I’d be too exhausted to do anything once I was there.

I can’t claim poly is simpler than monogamy; I’m not the Official Poly Ambassador to the Court of St Monogamous, for one thing. But it isn’t necessarily more complex – and complexity isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Poly doesn’t make relationships complex; people do

Poly doesn’t have a monopoly on relationship complexity, or on drama. Everyone knows complex, high-drama monogamous relationships.

Some of the common features of poly relationships actively reduce drama and complexity. There’s generally more, and more honest, communication, and people are encouraged to take greater responsibility for their own needs. When you don’t suspect your girlfriend is interested in someone else, you know she is and you agreed it was OK, the basis for a lot of drama vanishes.

Yes, arranging your diary so you can see all the people you’d like to as often as you’d like is hard – but that’s true for everyone who’s busy. With poly, you just have to remember to pack your toothbrush, some lube and enough clean underwear.

Poly means ‘many options’

Not all relationships are the same, and ‘relationship’ can mean any number of things. But when you’re monogamous your options are (usually) limited.

Monogamous people might have a sexually and emotionally intense fling which  combusts after a month; then a long-term committed romantic relationship; then a matey series of no-strings-attached hook-ups. Poly people can have all of those relationships at the same time – and more unusual relationships too.

Once your relationships aren’t predetermined by societal norms, suddenly everything’s up for negotiation. So, tweak until you get it right: how often will you see each other? Will you fuck, or just do kinky shit? Are you emotionally exclusive or sexually exclusive, or both? What does ‘sexually exclusive’ even mean to the two of you?

If you’re monogamous and your partner hates eating greasy pizza naked while playing first person shooters; is totally disinterested in S/M or anal; or never wants to move in together, you can either suck it up or try to find a new partner that meets all your needs.

You don’t have to make that choice when you’re poly. Because you don’t have to rely on one relationship to meet all your needs, you have a better chance of getting all these needs met – and you don’t have to give up on a perfectly good relationship because it’s not ‘perfect’.

We need to talk about our relationship

This might be where poly really gets its reputation for complexity. Talking about relationships stops being just a good idea and starts being a bloody necessity when you’re involved with more than one person.

Guesswork in relationships is about as successful as it is when you’re trying to get someone off. Talking honestly about what you want, what your partner(s) want(s), and where that crosses over makes it far less likely that anyone will end up hurt or not getting what they need.

I’ll happily sacrifice a little time, some self-examination and some talking to get a range of romantic/sexual/kinky, serious/casual/one-off relationships that meet all my needs. Surely that’s better than a simple life spent missing out on half the things you want?

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Someone else’s story: gay teenagers

I’ve removed this post at the request of the author, as he became nervous about being identified.

Was awesome while it lasted. You can still see other guest contributions, though.

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On getting head

Heresy though it is – I don’t really like it.

I don’t actively dislike it, and if you want me to sit on your face I will no doubt have quite a pleasant time. Ultimately what you’re doing is tonguing my clit, which is better than a kick in the teeth. But there’s something missing – your cock.

It sounds a bit dull, but my actual fetish (in the strictest sense of ‘can’t properly get off without it’) is your cock. I want it to be hard, and in me – I don’t care where. My mouth, my ass, my cunt – plunge it into one of my armpits and hump till you’re spent for all I care. But for me to have a good time it has to be hard and more or less in me.

And so getting head is usually a bit frustrating. It’s pleasant, it ticks most of the boxes and stimulates the nerve endings that matter, but there’s just something missing. In a contest between two otherwise equal guys, one of whom was offering to tongue me until I saw stars, and the other who was offering to fuck my mouth and then push me out of a window, I’d go for the latter, no question.

Getting head just doesn’t, as a rule, do it for me.

The bit that contradicts that bit I’ve just written

I feel like this would fall a bit flat if I didn’t give you some sort of detail – it’s quite a dull opinion, after all – so I’ll admit that there was one guy who gave head that made me drool. OK, not just drool – writhe and moan and whimper and squirm and sigh and come.

I had no idea why – at the time I couldn’t work out what the hell it was that made his mouth so much more worth having there than anyone else’s. Having had time to reflect on it I’d hazard that part of the reason was that he made a point of it. It wasn’t a cursory thing. He wasn’t bending down and licking as a short prelude to sex, a ‘do I have to do this?’ reciprocation of the head I’d given him – he lay between my legs, he got comfy, and most importantly (I think) he settled the fuck down.

That definitely made me relax and enjoy it more, but it still didn’t really explain why what he was doing felt so different. I enjoyed it partly because I knew he was in it for the long haul, but partly because I was genuinely enjoying the sensation.

I’m so ineloquent on this subject. I’m stumped. I have no idea what a boy can do with his mouth that makes a girl go crazy – I have no idea what, specifically, he was doing that made me so happy. But that’s OK – I don’t know everything. Luckily, there’s always the option to draft in the experts.

If you’ve never emailed an ex to say “hey, you did this thing that was fucking spectacular and I have no idea why or how, would you mind writing about it so I can publish it on (oh by the way I write) a sex blog?” then you definitely should. It wields spectacular results.

Ladies and gents, I give you Number 10:

I give my best head when I’m really turned on, and it’s largely intuitive/instinctual at that point. In order to stay at that maximum-hardness level of turned on for a decent length of time I need some sort of stimulation to my cock. Sixty-nine-ing or her having a hand free are obviously good (although if I’m doing it properly she won’t be coherent enough to stay focused on what she’s doing) but if I want her to be able to just relax and enjoy it I find lying face down with my weight on my cock suffices.

Here’s my theory on why it works, though I could be wrong. I thought before that it had something to do with equivalence of nerve endings – that you can see the connection between a guy’s cock and a girl’s clit, and imagine that one is the other – I don’t think that was quite right. I now think it’s more to do with being able to tap into the rhythm and intensity drives associated with being fully erect and stimulated. I’d guess what I’m doing with my tongue is following the same tempo as my cock would be, if it were there.

So there you go. But don’t take my word for it – or indeed his. Everyone’s different, which is what makes the world such a fascinating and disgusting and horrifying and excellent place. You might do it differently and have your ladyfriend squirming with the unrestrained delight of a kid in a Christmas-themed sweetshop. You might be a girl who can’t come without at least 45 minutes of good, solid, selfless head.

I just happen to be one of those who, barring extremely specific circumstances, can probably take it or leave it. But you know what? That’s OK.

It means that if you like it we can do it and have fun, and if you don’t like it you can sit back and recline while I take your dick right to the back of my throat, safe in the knowledge that you won’t have to reciprocate with anything more than a pat on the ass and a ‘good girl’ when I’m done.