Goran says goodbye

Having been distracted royally by crushes, I had left Goran far far behind.  When he got in touch once in a blue moon this year I was happy enough to see him.  We got on well, but his domestic and dating life were just as fraught as when I first knew him.  More recently he had been dating a buxom young thing, so young in fact that she was in the high risk category for a particular STD – chlamydia – rife amongst the under 25s apparently.  So of course he too succumbed but was sufficiently gentlemanly to alert me to his woeful state of health.  Fortunately we had been cautious in our few intimate encounters this year that my foray back to a sexual health clinic brought forth happy negative news.

We continued our occasional chats over the virtual ether, met once for dinner and then he said that the recent STD scare was enough for him to decide on giving up the polyamorous lifestyle.  I wished him and his missus bonne chance and realised that that may have been the last time I heard from him.


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.


Felix Vallotton’s nude


Breath-holding over

I’m dating someone older than Cosmo!  This morning he told me in bed that he could see himself falling in love with me.  My toes curl with pleasure.  I’m sure I wore a silly smile all day after that.  This is the self-same Julius who had said just last week that I shouldn’t hold my breath if I was waiting for him to whisper those three little words.  He didn’t say them exactly but he had held me tightly and said that he was very, very fond of me.

There’s no denying it – we have fallen all over ourselves in love.  It’s quite a bizarre thing – to be non-monogamous and in love.  He has a date with another lover this weekend and I won’t see him again until next Tuesday when we are to meet at a venue where some of his old friends will also be present.  I’m aware that this is taking our very new relationship to the next step in as few as 5 dates!  And I still feel pretty much over the moon that he has given away how he feels about me.   In a fit of infatuation I called him my darling, and invited him to go on holiday with me … and meet my sister!  He said yes but would have to check his diary.  I suspect that he probably has pre-arranged appointments over that period.

My friend Jan told me that it was best not to over-analyse.

In any event, my dating app is still full of overtures and invites from rather nice looking men.   I chat to a couple of them and arrange to meet with one this coming Monday afternoon.  Meanwhile Goran tells me that his wife is still playing open and close over their marriage and it makes it difficult for him to commit to seeing me with any regularity.  Julius had asked and I confessed to him that Goran had spent the night previously.   It hasn’t made a difference and he is as attentive and thoughtful as ever.   My cup runneth over!

Let’s not talk of love or chains and things we can’t untie

I’m sometimes unable to curb the wild imaginings of my insecure side.  A few nights ago, when I knew that Julius was with K, because we’d agreed to be honest with each other, I felt a little fluttering unease.  So I went back to the dating app and picked up a couple more potential dates.  The flirting there was like a salve to my self-inflicted wounds.

Ewan noticed my late night dalliances, as these things give you away, and commented on it – until I met Julius he had been my latest lover and we had begun establishing a sort of relationship involving long emails and day to day whatsapp chats about this and that and nothing at all; who knew that the silliness of routines and minor exasperations shared could create the sort of bond that it did, but, … but all the same, physically, he is there, hundreds of miles away from here, without a firm date to give me as to when he might next see me, and he is also still married after all, even if his wife now does not want to sleep with him anymore.  He had asked me before if I might consider indulging in an orgy – having sex with another couple present.  He had spoken without having anyone in mind but I remembered Douglas and our threesome with his partner and had promised Ewan I would find out.

And then Julius sent me an email and another and it all starts again – we make a couple more dates for the next week and I feel myself drawn back into his thrall.  In an effort to prevent myself from becoming overly attached to a man who has two other lovers and potentially more, I make dates with three others myself.  One of these is with Goran whom I hadn’t seen since his wife returned to London.  I’d missed him and we arrange to have dinner together and who knows what might happen after that.  Max and I arranged to go for another platonic walk and Douglas asked me to meet his current lover who had been considering a threesome.

Faithfully following the tenets of relationship anarchy, I pursue these friendships and love affairs, trying not to let one become more important than the other, enjoying each one separately.

a quiet evening in

Friday night, like most of my other Friday nights of late, is spent at home keeping a troubled teen company.  Occasionally I find myself whatsapping Goran, like tonight – it’s become a friendly routine with none of the emotional turmoil of last year.   As he’s currently trying to forget his recent disastrous love affair, he has arranged to have afternoon tea with another potential love interest tomorrow.  I surprised myself when I wished him luck how sincerely I meant it and bade him goodnight.  I can still remember a moment the last time he stayed the night when I’d felt a slight tinge of irritation with him.  I don’t think I showed it and was deliberately kinder and more hospitable towards him.  He had asked for some water post-coital when I just wanted to fall asleep.  All the same I got him some and we fell asleep together – later in the night, I crept myself out of his arms and curled up away from him.  We had our usual three romps and breakfasted at our usual place.  It was still fun being in his company but since he is reluctant to make any arrangements with me when his wife is coming over for the summer I don’t expect I shall see much of him in the next few weeks.

Ewan continues to send me text messages on an almost daily basis now that he has managed to get hold of a replacement phone, with snippets of holiday news – culture, ice creams, diving, the unfavourable exchange rate.  I hear from him in the mornings before he sets off for his day.  It’s very nice all this attention and I can’t help occasionally wondering whether he sends anyone else messages also.  As a relationship anarchist this shouldn’t bother me … and it doesn’t, but I would just like to know – am I sort of the only one?  Or if I wasn’t, then was I the one he’s a little more serious about?  I remember that he had kept asking me to visit him in the highlands just after I’d got back from Oz until I’d actually gone up.  We had talked, amongst other things, about his diving sprees.  I’m still quite keen to learn to dive and hope that I might enrol on a course some time in the not too distant future; all this independent of whether or not Ewan and I continue to see each other.