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The green-eyed monster December 11, 2010

Posted by Leah in Gallimaufry.

I have a story to tell. I had sex last night. But before I share, as I am asked about these topics frequently, I thought I would write a post about jealousy and envy.

I want to distinguish the two emotions. I experience jealousy when I covet what another person has and feel resentful of this success or achievement. I experience envy when I wish that I had the same good fortune as someone else and resent its absence. They both arise out of longing and yearning, but I think the two feelings are subtly different. Personally, I struggle more with the latter than with the former. I am not so much jealous of my boyfriend or his lovers as I am envious, especially now when the Atlantic separates us.

I have discussed aspects of my open relationship before. The boyfriend has a pair of regular lovers, who he sees (separately) a couple of times a week, and the very occasional random hookup as a bonus with any other women he may find. In London, I see Frank when I can, Amadeo about once a week, and have frequent casual liaisons.

Whereas we may be envious of what happens in a one night stand and jealous of the frequency, this is fundamentally non-threatening by virtue of being a transient encounter. The lover is disposable. The sex is unimportant. The cock I find serves its function as an autonomous dildo. He uses a woman as three convenient holes for his penis. This applies even when the date incorporates elements of kink.

When a relationship exists — what I have written about with Frank or Amadeo, for example — or what the boyfriend has with his lovers at home — jealousy, envy, and even rage arise sub rosa. They stab at the left side of my chest. The pangs are momentary. They go away. The feelings dissolve when I intellectualize the set up. I want a diversity of experiences and a stable foundation. My boyfriend wants the same. We are each other’s bedrock. Our others enable sexual variety. One person can’t provide everything. This is a way to scratch the different itches.

In principle, we have discussed a veto over each other’s regulars. In the end, we decided that trust alone suffices.

There are emotional bonds with our steady extras. I want to please my regular lovers in bed more so than I do a one night stand. I am fond of them as people. We are friendly. Our personalities mesh well. I enjoy their company. We do more than have sex. And the sex is more than just fucking. The foreplay and the afterglow and the conversation are integral parts of the whole. This is as it should be. A reason to have a regular is that friendship and familiarity improve the sexual experience.

The boyfriend and I are open at communicating what happens — not all the details all the time, but enough. Personally, I like to know as much as possible. When the boyfriend speaks explicitly about his adventures, I often masturbate. I started the blog so that he would acquire a sense of my London. Our experiences pop up in conversation all the time. Sexuality is so much a part of our personas that it seems normal when they do. The arrangement is weird only in that one of his lovers is also one of my friends. I introduced her to the boyfriend as a fellow kinkster. Though we have messed around as a threesome, most of my interactions with the girl are social and professional. It can be a little freaky knowing, while we are chatting about a perfectly ordinary topic, that on the previous afternoon, she had begged my boyfriend to have her clit spanked while cuffed naked to my bed and had been rewarded for her tears with permission to suck his cock and swallow his semen. I like her, so it’s ok.

Sex isn’t a competition. (People can suck at it though.) I don’t mind that the boyfriend also gets his orgasms from other women, sometimes in the D/s context. There are things that we do only with each other, for example, going bareback. There is a part of him that is reserved only for me, and also the reverse. We are closer with each other than with anyone else. I can live with that.

The line in the sand is love. Both of us fall well short with our others. I am far from monogamous sexually, but I focus like a laser where it concerns the intensity of my affections. If one of us were to fall in love with someone else, then, at that point, he or I would need to make an irrevocable choice between the options. I am not at all comfortable with divided loyalties. I’d rather lose the boyfriend than share him this way. For my part, I am constitutionally incapable of having two boyfriends at once. Polyamory isn’t an option from any direction. Indeed, I worry that Amadeo may be growing too attached to me. We will sort this out in time.

The arrangement I have is unorthodox and irregular and complex. But it works. The human mind is plastic and adaptable. It gets used to the unusual. We have fun.