TWO MEN WALK INTO A BAR

I made the decision to live my true polyamorous life in January 2019; in February, I met M. He was my first poly partner, the first to eat my ass, and the first man I used a butt-plug with. Almost weekly, we had phenomenal sex, he ate my pussy just right, and he was a freak like me. In May, I met A, my primary partner. Over time, it occurred to me that they had a lot in common. So, in December, I set up a group chat (Two Men Walk into A Bar), and a week later, we all met up.   

I arranged for us to meet at a Mexican restaurant, by my job, and on the walk there, I was extremely nervous. I was confident that they would get along, but I was worried that the male ego might get in the way. However, once we were seated, everything went off without a hitch. Over dinner and a few margaritas, they got to know each other and talked on how much they both enjoyed fucking me. It was, to say the least, a great introduction date.  

After our date, the conversations in our group chat became highly sexual as we tried to plan out the details for our threesome. A few times, they attempted to rush the plan, like the horny men that they are; but I wanted to make sure the event was not rushed. As weeks and months passed, I wondered if our long-awaited threesome would ever happen. Then, a week before New York City went on lockdown, the stars finally aligned.  

We arranged to meet at M’s on a Sunday afternoon. I met A when I got off the train, and we walked together to his apartment. Once there, we sat down and talked over some wine. I could tell that M was nervous, as it was to be his first threesome, but I assured him that he would enjoy himself. After a while, we all went into the bedroom to get things started. We got undressed, and with me sandwiched between them, I started kissing my dates for the evening. M began to lick my nipples, A started to eat my pussy, and I sucked M’s dick. I released a loud scream as I was delivered my first orgasm of the day; afterward, he slipped on a condom to fuck me until he reached his orgasm. As he went to clean up, M changed positions and went down on me, and in no time, he delivered me my second orgasm. Still riding my orgasm, M bent me over and fucked me from behind as I sucked A’s dick. Since attending my first sex club, I had been in quite a few MFM threesomes before. But fucking strangers versus men that I actually had cared for, was a totally different experience; it was totally euphoric.   

An essential role in being the woman in an MFM threesome is to make sure all people involved are paced and having a good time. After round one, A was ready to keep going, while M suggested a moment of rest. Men, enjoying an MFM threesome, often forget that a woman’s body, not only, needs to reset, but is also her possession. My body has to be enjoying every second of the encounter. So, because my arms, clit, and vagina had just put in serious work, despite A’s resistance, I made the decision to rest. We weren’t on a clock; therefore, there was no need to rush. We took a nap, and when we were all ready, we started up again.   

At the start of round two, I wanted it doggy-style, with M lying on the bed and A behind me. He lubed up and proceeded to fuck me in the ass, and with my Womanizer on my clit, like clockwork, I collapsed onto M’s lap as I rode my trembling orgasm. My ass needed a break, so I let my mouth do the work for me. With deep passion, I sucked, licked, and swirled my mouth and tongue back and forth around their dicks, and when I was ready, M positioned himself behind me.  

With my ass in the air and my face buried in A’s lap, M licked and bit at my ass. He slipped one finger in and then another, and knowing what was coming next, I grabbed my Womanizer. As he slid into my booty-hole, my body instantly began to tremble. Each thrust felt like heaven, and, once again, with my Womanizer on my clit, my orgasm began to build. As he picked up his pace, my body started to lose control. When my orgasm finally peaked, each outcry of orgasm was accompanied by a burst of squirt. I had no control over what was coming out of my body, but I kept the Womanizer placed over my clit. And with every breath, I exploded again and again. I could tell he was taken aback and aroused at the same time as he was showered in my juices. Fearing that my screams could be heard up and down the Grand Concourse, I buried my face into the bed and rode out the rest of my orgasm through muffled screams. When my tank was finally empty, I fell onto the bed; and after four orgasms, I was officially done.   

After we showered, we got dressed and took a walk. Walking down the street with my guys, I felt empowered, sexy, and magical. As stated before, MFM threesomes are always amazing; but partaking in one with partners you care for, that care for you in return, was the cherry on my Sunday. 

Tale of a Polyamorous Heartbreak

No one ever said it would hurt any less. 

I’ve read a few books, some articles, and asked strangers all over the internet. They made the poly lifestyle seem like a walk in the park; open and honest communication and affection between partners; nothing could go wrong. They all said it would require constant work, but, none of them ever said; when the journey had run its course, it would still hurt like hell. Had they told me I could’ve prepared; but, since they didn’t, I had to learn it the old-fashioned way. 

I connected with him on Hinge, he was Latino and, a few years younger. He lived in New Jersey, so I was hesitant at first, but I figured I should take a chance and see what would happen; in the very least, I would end up with a good friend. Surprisingly, we hit it off, almost immediately; we bonded while discussing current events, music, food, tv, and movies we both liked; we were off to a great start.  

Our first date we walked to get dinner at Mexicue; three tacos and two margaritas in, the conversation flowed like a river. He was just as cool in person, as he was over the phone. We talked, laughed, and joked the time away. When we were finished, he got the check; then we left. We walked side by side as we made our way to Barcade (a bar with arcade games). He got us beers (me a cider), then exchanged dollars for game coins. I offered to give him some cash, but he turned it down. We played a plethora of games; from Tetris, to Pacman, to shooting games, and driving games. It was obvious he was in his element, and I actually enjoyed seeing him in his element. When we ran out of coins, I suggested we walk to get dessert; so, from 23^rd street, we walked down to Spot on St Marks Place. It was the usual hour wait; but, with him, the time passed by. Once we were called, we each ordered dessert, I ordered a latte and he ordered a matcha beer. This time when the check came, I paid it; a few times he fought me on it, but eventually he let me pay. Our date ended at a karaoke bar, a few doors down. He paid for our drinks, I paid for the songs; and it was there, while we were sitting close that he leaned in to kiss me; ever so gently. He held me close as our mouths and tongues danced together; and although his kisses were passionate, he maintained being a total gentleman. We continued making out the rest of the time at the bar; we would caress my arm as we sat at the bar, we’d take a drink, then we would begin kissing again. When the bar closed, we walked up to 14^th street. He got on the Path train back to New Jersey, and I took an Uber home. The next day when my friends and I went wine tasting, I told them it was, quite possibly, the most amazing first date I ever had.  

We spoke every day after that. Our next date was a week later and we went to the movies to see Toy Story 4 (in 4D); and it was awesome! After the movies, we walked around for a bit; we talked abouyt favorite holiday songs, movies, and traditions; then we stopped to eat at Grimaldi’s Pizzeria. When we finished eating, we walked back downtown. From 22^nd street, we walked all the way through the village. It was the weekend of the pride parade and the everyone was out and proud. We stopped to get ice cream, and we walked past the Stonewall memorial. We continued walking down to the path train; hand in hand, and stealing occasional kisses. When we got to the train, it was a 20-minute wait; we started kissing, 40 minutes later, no train had arrived and we were still kissing, after an hour of standing in the station, waiting for the train that never came, kissing the entire time; when we resurfaced, both of our lips were slightly swollen. Even though our kisses were extremely passionate, he was still a gentleman; other than our bodies pressing up against one another and the occasional cheek grab; none of his actions were super aggressive. I wondered, if we were in his apartment, would he have the same restraint. Earlier in the date, he had suggested our next date be on his side of the water and I told him; I would look forward to that. He called his uber and it came right away. I contemplated walking around a bit, but decided against it and called my uber home. That, unfortunately, was the last time I saw him.  

On our first date, it was my mission to make clear my polyamorous position; so, we briefly spoke about the people we were dating. I briefly mentioned the guys I was dating and he had mentioned a girl, and that was that. A few weeks after our last date, when I returned from camping; I messaged him. I had noticed his messages becoming less and less, so I wanted to know what was going on. He explained to me that, things were progressing with the girl he was dating. He explained that he felt dishonest seeing both of us. Neither of them was in the lifestyle, and although he walked around to the deep end of the pool, he was not ready to take the dive in. He told me he had to stop seeing me; I thanked him for his honesty, and I wished him luck.  

When I put the phone down, my body began to warm up; from my toes all the way to my face, I was hot with emotions. Then, they all pooled out, in the form of tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to break up with me. This was not why I decided to be polyamorous. I dived into this pool to build bonds with people; that would last a lifetime; so, how was I just supposed to walk away? Was I supposed to take those great memories and burn them? This was a feeling I did not want; but I had to live with it.  

On day 2, I was feeling better; and he messaged me. He still wanted to be friends, which is what I wanted too. I genuinely enjoyed his company and our conversations; so, we agreed to try and go back to being friends; I would respect his boundaries and he would respect mine.  

On day 3, he sent me a message that wasn’t like the others; this message had a sexual tone that had never existed between us before. He was showing signs of a fuck-boy. It crossed my mind to play with the matches he was laying out. One or two things were obvious; either he was second guessing his decision to just be friends, and still wanted to test the waters; or, all the good boy actions were just a façade. I wasn’t quite sure yet, so I continued to proceed with no caution for the outcome.  

A few days later, another sexual message passed across my phone; so this time I decided to play into the fantasy. I knew what I was dealing with and I felt confident that my emotions were intact. We did this dance for a few more weeks; and then I realized just how morally different we were.  

He sent me some clip of some conservative (probably religious) man, essentially blaming women for men that can’t control themselves. In the clip; the man claimed that women only use their bodies to get ahead; which I, of course, wholeheartedly disagreed with. That was our last real conversation. I messaged him when the podcast episode dropped; to let him know and see how he was doing. All was good on his end and all was great on mine; and I was fine with closing the chapter forever.  

I didn’t want to close the door when it was forced upon me; but I was quite elated when the choice was mine. In the end, I know it wouldn’t have ever worked out; but it was fun while it lasted. Once I weathered the storm of my first poly-heartbreak; I knew that when the time came again, I would be much better prepared.  

I Only Wanted Sex; Then You Happened

From sex party to romance. Who would’ve thought that would happen.

You first laid eyes on me when I was in the corner being fucked by two men at the party. When I came up for air, you asked me a simple question; “Would I sit on your face?” I told you to give me a moment and I would get back to you. You didn’t know my STD status and I wanted to make sure you knew, before we decided to engage. As the party continued, I remained pre-occupied so I never got the chance to talk to you before the party ended. You walked with me and the other gentleman I had played with to the elevator and out of the hotel. While waiting for our respective cabs, you bravely asked me for my number; and I, gave it to you. You messaged me to make sure I got home safe; then I didn’t hear from you. 

A few weeks passed, and you messaged me a few days before what would be the second party we would attend. We texted back and forth for hours. It was weird that we had so much in common; that for a moment I thought you stalked my Instagram to know what to say to make me like you. I eventually realized it wasn’t an act and that we actually did like a lot of the same things. You told me that the next party fell on your birthday and as a present from me, you wanted me to sit on your face. I asked if you had read my Instagram bio; I wanted to make sure you knew that I was herpes positive and what that could mean for you. You thanked me for telling you and we continued our conversation without a beat.  

The night of reckoning, I arrived at the party early. I wore pink heels, knowing that you liked them and when you walked in, I shyly said “hi”. I was quasi-dating another partygoer and talking to the man sitting next to me – so I played it cute. When the party started, I went with you to the corner, we took off our glasses, and I gave you your birthday present. I sat on you face and sucked at your dick. I moisturized your beard with my juices and felt your tongue and fingers explore my openings. You brought me to a ferocious orgasm. I immediately wanted you inside of me, so I bent over ready to receive you. I was dripping wet with anticipation, but your birthday drinking festivities, from before the party, inhibited you; so, you went back to eating my pussy. You flipped me over and made a show of me as your meal. I was terrified that I would break my neck, but you kept your grip on my body secure. You laid me back down and buried your face and tongue deeper into me. With your finger pleasing my ass and you mouth on my clit, you brought me to yet, another magically loud orgasm.  

My second orgasmic outcry got the attention of the other party-goers. As your intoxication began to flood in, I retreated to shower, and, with that, I was stolen away. I didn’t see you the rest of the party, but you messaged me that, although you were totally shit-faced, you got home safe. I played with a few other men at the party that night; but something about you set you apart from the others.  

Our first date, was the day of the pride parade; we went to see Aladdin. Hot as it was, you arrived a cute and sweaty mess; we kissed then preceded to watch the movie. After the movie we walked to go and get dinner; then we walked some more. We took a seat by Madison Square Park and, of course, talked some more. So much laughter and joy filled that very first date. I felt so at ease with you; and although I didn’t want the night to end, we took the train to my neighborhood and you walked me to my building. A passionately long kiss was the end to our amazing night and we parted ways; that was only two months ago.  

 Since then: you’ve come with me to my herpes support group, you’ve supported me during my triathlon training, you’ve helped me fix my room, you’ve supported my writing, you’ve come with me to my writing group; all the while encouraging me to be nothing but myself. I wake up to your ‘good morning beautiful’ texts, I talk to you throughout the day, and you don’t let a night pass without wishing me a good night and sweet wet dreams.  

The first time you stayed over, while my family was away, you pleased my body every chance you could. From oral sex in the shower, to delivering my body deep thrusts in my bed, to burying your face in between my legs and bringing me to orgasm after orgasm; you more than made up for the party. And before, during, and after it all; you held me close, our bodies were intertwined as you laid with me, and I felt safe in your arms. Our naked flesh pressed up against each other as we drifted into sleep at night; only to start the morning with me taking your dick into my mouth and bringing you to pleasure. I was determined to make you cum and when you did, I didn’t stop. I kept going until you couldn’t take any more (payback for the many times you continued licking my clit past my orgasm). In short, that weekend was exactly what I needed; and had no idea I was missing. 

I was always told, if I wanted to find a good man, I would have to hide my desires. But, so far, you’ve proven to be a great man in my life, that fully supports my freak-filled ways. Not only do we have amazing sex, but we have amazing sex with other couples. You support me with all my choices, as I encourage you to pursue your goals. You make me smile till my cheeks hurt, and you give me butterflies.  

I only went to the party for some good sex; but I left with so much more. I can’t to see what the future holds. 

BUM MAGNET

I started talking to Moe (OKC) in the fall of 2015; actually our virtual paths crossed earlier in the season, more like end of summer, but I started talking to someone else so I paused our communication. Naturally, as my luck would have it, that relationship didn’t pan out so I reached back out to Moe. He was black, was a vegan, lived in Brooklyn at the time and worked in something in the manual labor field but wasn’t totally happy working under someone else. In the end he wanted to be his own boss because he wanted to call the shots.

We communicated often and the conversation was easy and smooth. He asked to take me out on a date to lunch one Saturday and I agreed. I found a restaurant on the Upper East Side that was vegan, Candle 79. I was running a little late to the date. When I arrived I saw his appearance and immediately regretted my decision to meet him. You’ve ever seen a couple walking down the street and wonder; how did they end up together? – That was he and I. I should have turned away right then but that has never been my style. I like to give people a fair chance to show who they are; I wish more people did the same, but that’s neither here nor there.

We went into the restaurant and were seated immediately. We each ordered a cocktail, we split an appetizer and we each ordered an entrée and split a dessert. The food was delicious and the conversation was fun. He expressed that he and his friend were trying to get into fashion by reselling merchandise. I thought the idea sounded optimistic but lacked details to actually make it work- but I kept that to myself. The date was actually going well until we got on the topic of politics (how we got here I do not remember- but here we were); and he mentioned that he didn’t vote. Anyone that knows me knows that I am an extremely liberal Democrat. With that being said; I have no problem considering dating a person that is Republican, if love really does conquer all. I do however have a problem with a person that chooses to not participate in the act of voting; especially considering all the fighting that black people, men, women had to go through to have the ability to vote. That should have been a clear indicator that rocky roads were ahead but I dismissed it.

The bill came and he put down $80. I had glanced at the check before he paid and I noticed the bill said $75.50; so I asked him if he intended to leave a tip, at which point he replies that was all the money he had.

Who goes on a date, to a restaurant, with only $80? I’ll wait! I asked him if he had a card; at which he replied he didn’t use and/or have credit cards. I took his cash, put the bill on my card, tipped her accordingly, and then we walked to the MET Museum. He scoffed at me paying $10 to enter the museum; at which point I should have ended the date but, again, I wanted to be a nice person. We checked our coats then headed in. In the Roman wing we threw coins into the water. He made a wish and we shared a single kiss. We continued to look at the exhibits and eventually we left the museum and parted ways.

A few weeks had passed and it was now around Christmas. For the past 10 years, around Christmas I always walked to visit the store windows; I started to call it Holiday Store Tour. It’s such a magical experience seeing how all the Christmas cheer can transform any Grinch and, since we were trying to establish a connection, I invited him to come along with me.

Initially his response was yes, and then it shifted to ‘I’ll have to see what my money looks like’. Now, I didn’t say we were doing anything other than visiting the stores; so his inability to answer with a simple yes or no seemed illogical to me. About a week later, a few days before Christmas I asked him again. He complained about his check not coming on time and that he had no money. As a solution I said we could keep it simple and go Dutch; normally on my Holiday Store Tours the most I would buy was a hot chocolate and keep it moving. I thought that by offering to go Dutch it would be seen as a good option; he wouldn’t have to spend any money and I’d have a person to walk the stores with me. Boy- Was I Wrong!!

He ripped into me. Complaining that I was being spoiled and selfish. He complained that I’d be single forever if I continued to be such a pest. He complained that he didn’t like going out when he was broke and that he didn’t have money to even get on the train. At which point I responded that I was not a pest but an idiot. I was an idiot for giving you a chance.

I proceeded to say; “Maybe you should reconsider your life decisions. If you didn’t spend all your money on weed and got a real job instead of trying to play like a boss that you’d be able properly date a lady. Foolish of me for even considering a cornball like you.”

Needless to say; that conversation was the last.

This wasn’t the first time I dated below my level and it sure wouldn’t be the last. I’ve noticed that over the years I’ve given many chances to men that I had no business considering. Recently my friend sent me post showing the average cost of a first date over the US and New York had a cost of over $297. I was surprised. I thought to myself how? Call me crazy- but I tend to be a fan of meeting for coffee or maybe a bar for the first date. I’ve never been a fan of movie dates or dinner dates, since I like to talk and get to know the person. When I told her this, her response was; “Oh no girl… Whenever they hit me with coffee dates or bs dates I hit them with “I’m busy”.

I realized then, that I had to step my game up. Aim higher to meet a man worth my time and/or a worth his weight in salt type of man. I come across assholes both broke and better off- I might as well get better dates and experiences if I may end up with the same drama.

Bum Magnet_Part 1