I struggle a lot with trust. I’m also territorial. I don’t like sharing what’s mine.
Like all of us, I can feel insecure, not good enough: afraid that I will lose something valuable.
I can create stories in my head where I will be betrayed and abandoned.
The thing about these fears is that they are contrary to what is real. I am not alone. I’m surrounded by people who love me. I have friends. I have an amazing boyfriend. And to be honest, I have bunch of ex-boyfriends who are still some of my best friends.
Clay and I have had a bunch of really successful three-ways, and some group sex experiences, but it wasn’t until recently that I learned something valuable:
I go into a lot of these scenarios treating the other guy(s) as a potential threat, and my boyfriend as something that belongs to me. And really, neither of those things are true.
Clay and I both agree: we want to be able to fuck other guys. We want to be able to explore and have adventures. But for now, we choose to do that together. It’s our form of monogamy. I’ve talked about this a lot so I won’t go deep, but one of the things I like about our arrangement is we get to experience something new, while also experiencing each other as something new.
Recently we decided to meet up with Trent. Both Clay and I have fucked Trent in the past. He’s someone we are both comfortable with.
And yet I found myself getting insecure, worried that maybe I wouldn’t be good enough, all the things my head can do to tell me that I won’t be enough. I began to view Trent as the threat and Clay as the possession that would be stolen from me.
While Clay and I were waiting for Trent to show up he looked at me and asked,
“Will it bother you if I kiss him? He and I…we have a history. It can get kind of passionate.”
For a second something like fury burst through me, but I saw it for what it was: fear. And then I thought: What’s the point of having some other dude over if we can’t kiss them, or be passionate: what’s the point of any of this if we have to censor who we are?
The truth is, if I thought about it: the idea of Clay making out with some other guy was hot as fuck. The thought of Clay holding me, touching me, while I made out with another guy makes my dick hard right now writing this.
The only thing holding me back from really enjoying these experiences, from fully realizing my sexuality and my partners sexuality, is myself.
Trent was coming over to be with us. Not Jeff. Not Clay. But Us. There is something beautiful about that. And then I thought: it’s our job to make Trent feel special, to make him feel desired: we were inviting him into our world, and he deserved the best welcome we could give.
Watching Clay make out with Trent was breathtaking in how hot it was. The two of us kissing Trent, exploring him, taking turns fucking him, making him the center of our world, was one of the hottest experiences I’ve had in a long time.
And if I ever doubted how safe I was with Clay, how secure I am, he taught me, in those moments, how loved I am. He would check in with me, touch me, kiss me, make sure I knew that we were together in this. That this was our adventure.
We can be filthy pigs. I loved licking Clay’s cum out of Trent, filling Trent with two of my own loads, making out with Trent while Clay fucked him, and watching the two of them make out while I fucked Trent, but more than that there was a shared intimacy between the three of us, something that connected us, for those brief moments we were all together.
And I found myself falling deeper in love with my man. Trusting him. Desiring him. There is nothing hotter than watching my dude with another guy, being able to connect with him in a whole knew way.
After Trent left Clay and I went on a date, the two of us, to dinner. Then we came home and curled up on the couch and watched scary movies. Then we fucked and fell asleep holding each other.
I’ll still get jealous. It’s part of who I am. But I think I learned that even in those moments all I have to do is remember the truth: I am loved. And I am safe.
I encourage you to go out and explore. To challenge yourself: to find a way past your fear. And to take care of each other. And to be kind. It was the kindness that helped me the most: to remember that Trent was a good man, not my enemy, and that Clay was my partner, not my possession. To be kind and loving to them both in those moments, no matter how filthy or piggy we got: because we can be all of it: filthy, dirty, nasty, loving, kind pigs.
I’d love to hear your stories. And adventures. And the ways you challenge yourself!
Thanks so much for reading. Without you none of this matters.