at a moss-decked burn

Last weekend we’d gone to an art fair in Chelsea followed by a film – the hard-hitting Ken Loach offering which had wrung its inevitable emotional response from us both so that when we emerged we felt as though we’d been pummelled.  The irony of where we’d come out onto was not lost on us either – we were in one of the richest boroughs of the country.  Alexander had been telling me that at some provincial cinemas the film wasn’t showing this week despite it being its opening week because of the school half-term break.  Not even in Ken Loach’s own town – what a cock up!

As we headed towards South Kensington station we walked past housing originally meant for those with modest means now very obviously housing a different stratum of society – the air of gentrification evident in the neat shrubbery, well-kept facades and expensive modes of transport ready to whisk the occupants to places of leisure and pleasure.  Two American tourists stop to ask for directions and after we’d sent them along the right direction walked hand in comfortable hand homewards.

So it was only yesterday at nearly midday we kissed each other goodbye.  And last night we texted goodnight.  And this morning hello as well as looking forward to seeing you later.  We can’t have enough of each other it seems.  There’s so much to discover and we boldly-ishly reveal some of our secrets – the ones that make us seem cool but not too off-puttingly shocking.  We have judged it about right so far.  During my most recent crisis when my youngest showed animosity at my inviting Alexander back home, he, ie Alexander took the opportunity to tell me the worst of his own domestic circs.  It doesn’t put me off in the slightest that he is still married or that he has children under the age of ten or that his wife still harbours an unhealthy amount of fury and vitriol against him which may be apt to erupt in the foreseeable future.  For my own self-preservation I begged him never to reveal my existence to said termagant.  Of course it is only his side I’m hearing of their breakup but I do recognise that degree of maleficence, lodged in my very own bosom nearly a decade and a half ago now.

All this, far from causing me pause or to flee, in fact offers the assurance that Alexander and I have nearly all the time in the world to conduct our love affair – all that time being the same lenthy time it takes for such complex relations as his to untangle.   My current accord and goodwill shared with the ex seems to offer some hope to Alexander that at some point in the future, he too will enjoy a similar degree of cooperation with his ex.

For a change from our outings I invited him round for dinner this evening.  A few others will also be at home but not the young rebel and I have high hopes for a peaceable meal.

How I feel, at what stage we’re at, it all feels like this:

 not rushing – stopping,
sink down on a verdant bank
sip the moss-decked burn.

kissah

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Epiphany

6th September 2016

Bade Julius goodbye today outside the tube station – this was after a date that ended with a sleepover.  He’d invited me to meet his friends on a canal walk last Sunday.  Complications with other things in our life meant that it didn’t end with either of us spending the night together – in my case I had work the next morning and in his he had to untangle himself from a relationship which did not have a promising future.  When we met up the following afternoon he still had not quite completely ended it, treading the fine line between saying no and not wanting to hurt.  I was uncomfortable when he tried to unburden himself as I tend to subscribe to a firmer method of rejection. We went for a ramble around Golders Hill park and supped at Eat Tokyo.  The evening walk with the dog on the golf course saw some al fresco nookie.  It was pitch black in the woods but the golf course itself was lit where a few houses backed onto the links.  We started off kissing there and moved on to a more sheltered area.  In any event the dog stood guard and would have warned us if anyone had happened upon us.  According to Julius it was his second experience of outdoor sex.

9th September 2016

Since the last time we met up in the Scottish Highlands at the beginning of summer, June to be precise, I hadn’t seen Ewan who came down the previous evening.  He was fairly ardent in his approach, claiming a dearth of suitable bedmates and so we had almost a quickie post-prandial, after which we enjoyed a siesta.   Later that evening we tried out the Ab Fab party venue in west London: under a starlit sky we swam in our birthday suits in the pool and made friends.  In a public room, i.e. one where spectators could look through we indulged in a fairly organised orgy with two other couples.  It was my first experience of a woman who squirts during orgasm.  One of Julius’ lovers does that and he claims it is a nuisance.  The woman at the sex party was a lovely friendly warm person as was her partner and post coital, as it were, were both happy to impart some advice for us swinging newbies.  I think Ewan had a lovely time of it and not feeling particularly emotionally attached to him I was able to indulge in the whole experience without any attendant angst.

I fully empathised with Julius’ feelings of insecurity and the following afternoon arranged to meet him at his after work.  I had work the following day and didn’t stay the night.  We discussed further how we felt about each other and confirmed that we were both fairly comfortable with the idea of our dating/sleeping with other people.  He asked me whether I had any opinion about his considering closing his dating profile on the app and I told him that it was his decision to make and I would not presume to ask him to do so.   I added that apart from Tomas, I was not chatting to anyone else.  As someone once said, they were poly-saturated and I felt fairly sated by the choice lovers I am in contact with.

He continued to tell me that I was desirable and earlier this afternoon, after several risqué message exchanges with Tomas, I began to realise that perhaps men really did want to take me to bed.  And perhaps that is all, … and that is really quite enough and almost an epiphany for me.  Perhaps it didn’t matter after all – the aging, the wobbly bits, the less than symmetrical features, the loose skin, the silver strands amongst the ebony.  Some men – Julius, Tomas, Goran (whose own domestic issues continue), Ramon, etc… desired me.  But not Michael anymore it would seem – we had met at a family event with some of our children in tow and our relationship is friendly and warm.

I went to the poly-cafe in Warren Street with Max yesterday evening for a book club meeting, the book being The Ethical Slut.  There was a nice balance of people at different stages of polyamory and we talked about our experiences and relationships.  I recognised one other person I’d met previously when I arranged with Goran to meet there one Saturday afternoon some time in early summer this year.  It felt reassuring to be a part of a group whose chosen relationship lifestyle mirrored mine.  Max was in fragile mood and I gave him a few warm, close embraces when he asked me for a hug.  I am wary of becoming attached to him but am not so unfeeling as to deny him warmth.  He is more than an ex-lover and I feel a strong fondness towards him.  It’s strange how I am no longer giddy over any of my past or even present lovers but continue to feel a bond with some of them.  I still adore Julius but can sense my infatuation passing as he tells me that he is still meeting new women – including one last night and another this evening.  Reluctant to be hurt by someone who has the potential to unsettle me my survival instincts kick in and I take the initiative with Tomas this afternoon, asking him for a preview of his back torso, gambling on the possibility that he would ask for one of mine in return and he did not fail me.

This is the picture Tomas sent me earlier today in a bid to convince me that he was not as curvy as the Felix Vallotton nude who has a coquettish profile.

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Felix Vallotton’s nude

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The Rhinoceros

There was the invitation to view his favourite exhibit at the Hunterian Museum.  It was another scorching afternoon and I had walked around the chilling displays in formaldehyde and peered at the instruments employed in the myriad surgical procedures which gave us  among other things, this Royal College of Surgeons.

The text message from Tomas alerted me to his presence before a Stubbs.  It was the one that had got away.  Many years ago he had requested for it to be a part of an exhibition he was putting together at the Institute of Contemporary Art.  But the then curator was no fan of modern day art and was suspicious of Tomas’ motive and turned his request down.  It had been awhile since he last viewed it and it had magnified in his head.  It was a magnificent creature I agreed with him – with greater complexity than its African counterpart.  We wandered about for a bit and eventually went down to the cafe in the square opposite.

We sat at a sunny table across from each other with two glasses of chilled Vioignier.  I liked the gradual pace of our flirtation, exchanging views on art and film, and debauchery.  He told me how he was currently seeing a woman who wanted him to whip her soundly with a paddle and riding crop.  In return she sat for him for the before and after pictures.     He claimed not to find her rotundity sexually appealing and I myself am determined that he would not see me in my flawed nudity until I was sure of a positive response.  The second date was not the time for this intimacy.

Eventually the sky got darker and we promised to meet again, when he might take me to his studio.  We said our goodbyes outside Lincoln’s Inn Fields and I went home just before the rush hour.  Later in the evening he told me that he had been quite aroused during our tete a tete, but the wine had gone to my head and I couldn’t remember everything that we might have talked about.  He was planning a trip abroad at the end of the month which would last two months and so I’m not sure if we would ever get round to consummating this dalliance before the end of the year.  All the sameI am enjoying being chatted up and it gives me more time to improve my physique!

Stubbs’ Rhinoceros

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Your feminine ways

Yesterday afternoon I took Julius to see the Kjartansson exhibition at the Barbican.  He too found it magical in its full immersive experience.  We went into the room with the 9 video harmonising installation where the feminine is celebrated in music – the idea of individuality and celebration of togetherness makes the theme of divorce even more poignant. There were other displays but we chose to watch this twice, in all its 64 minutes.  On both occasions it felt right to embrace occasionally.  Although I first saw this with Tomas last week and we enjoyed our first kiss here, I felt a profound sense of closeness experiencing this artwork with Julius.  I was glad that he found it all as enchanting as I did.

There wasn’t a plan for him to stay the night with me but after the exhibition ended at 6pm he showed me where he worked nearby and we spent a contemplative moment in Cardinal Hume’s garden of peace before going around Bunhill Cemetery to pay a visit to William Blake’s memorial.  A quick pint each of Seafarer’s at the pub opposite and I remembered that the cupboard at home was nearly bare, so we nipped into a small supermarket for some supplies.  By the time we got back and I’d made dinner and then we had our cuddle, we were both too exhausted to move and in the end he spent the night.  It was lovely to wake up together, although being the more morning person I was restless at the crack of dawn and had to take the dog out for a walk on my own.  Climbing back into bed later, we had another close and intimate embrace before breakfast.

Julius tells me that he feels very tender towards me – I asked him if this had anything to do with the fact that he is so much taller or older than me but he denied it saying it was more to do with how I am.  I suspect he is from an era where men behaved in a chivalrous manner towards women and I feel very fortunate that we have grown so fond of each other so quickly.  Doubts about how long this is likely to last no longer trouble me.  I told him that Ewan was coming down from Scotland in a few weeks to visit me.  He asked if I’d like to take some time out from him to entertain Ewan but I reassured him that I was only meeting up with Ewan for a day and night.

When we said our goodbyes on the tube platform later we knew that it wasn’t long before our next date.  Somehow we have managed to increase the frequency by one date every couple of days!

non-monogamous messaging

A rather frisky evening spent in text chats with two of my current beaus, Ewan and Julius, as well as a potential lover – the art historian, Tomas, who told me last night that he was in a playful mood having just finished working on an academic nude that evening.  I invited him to play with me, letting him know that I was reclining on my bed sans culotte, as it were.  He found it a welcome bit of information and offered to stroke my inner thigh.  I found the exchange incredibly tantalising, as it escalated, with both of us employing bolder and more salacious language.  It culminated with an arrangement to consummate our flirtation some time next week.

Ewan meanwhile, reiterated his desire to indulge in an orgy with me, detailing the extent of his proclivities with increasing fervour.  When he sent me a graphic image of his own state of arousal, asking for one from me in return, I declined, pleading the inferiority of my phone camera and the poor lighting at that late hour as my excuse.  The following morning, quite coincidentally Douglas made contact on his way abroad via the airport and I sounded him out on his keenness to join Ewan and me at some stage in the near future, whether with or without his current lover Carrie.  He was delighted and offered to arrange something with us on his return.

It comes as no surprise now that Julius and I are engaged in text chats or emails on a daily basis.  That evening we filled our diaries with future dates; we might meet as often as twice over an 8 or 9 day period, leading up to our holiday together at the end of next month.  Our exchanges were more decorous – we regard each other with greater warmth and affection and a large degree of respect.  There was nothing prurient and the terms we used rang with sincerity.

We still have yet to find a name for me to address him by as his real name happens to be identical to the one used by someone who had been very close to me from my past.  I had asked him to think up something he might be comfortable for me to use with him but we were nowhere near figuring this out.

He has dates with some of his current lovers but I don’t ask him for details, feeling more or less confident now that he still regards me as his favourite, just as he is mine.

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The above image taken from http://littlepennydreadful.tumblr.com/post/102159517051/rivesveronique-margaret-watkins-academic-nude