jump to navigation

Open July 7, 2010

Posted by Leah in Autobiography.
2 comments

A reader asks me to elaborate on my open sex life. This is my response.

I can only tell you about my personal history. My relationship with the boyfriend developed in an organic way. I moved to Boston almost three years ago, and just like London, it was a new city, and I slept around. There was one guy I slept with quite a lot. Our bodies fit. I respected his intelligence. We have personalities that mesh well. He is dominant in the bedroom while I enjoy being submissive sexually. Like me, he also slept around. As we were casual to start, this was not problem. We turned each other on with stories about our experiences. (The blog is a way of continuing this conversation.) Eventually, the two of us started dating and shacked up. But we continued to fuck other people as well.

Since we only had the one bedroom, unless one of us was traveling or explicit about spending the night elsewhere, we didn’t bring partners home after six. The trysts in the apartment were typically daytime encounters scheduled while the other person was at work. So that we wouldn’t accidentally intrude, we called each other before coming home during the day. The sheets were constantly in the wash. We decided that condoms were mandatory for messing around and got tested regularly. The majority of the sex I had was with the boyfriend. After all, we shared a bed most nights. The others were fun extras on the side.

I came to care about my regular partners. It may have started differently, but the sex became an extension of friendship and affection. The feelings I had for my other lovers were never as deep or personal or intimate as with the boyfriend. I don’t label myself polyamorous. I am a slut who fucks her friends and gets off with strangers and is mad about one guy in particular.

We are human. At times, there is jealousy and envy and insecurity and confusion. We deal with these emotions as forthrightly as we can. We agree that different people can scratch different itches and occupy different spaces in a life. Some aspects of sex that work fabulously with one partner won’t work as well, or at all, with another. Sometimes I want an anonymous fuck or a bit of casual kink with a stranger. Diversity of experience serves two functions: it keeps us interested in each other and fulfills — or just plain fills — us sexually.

The boyfriend and I Skype every day. I will go back to the US — it is home — and the boyfriend will visit me in London. A year plus is a long time to be separated by five time zones, especially when we are, in many ways, still beginning. Though we are both young, we pretend at maturity. Our relationship may not last. He might meet someone special, or I might. We could grow apart with distance. The world is large and full of possibilities. We know this. But we are content with where we are at this moment, with the patterns of our nights and days. The future will take care of itself.