In my adult life I have picked up a lot of men who love me and call me Princess.  It’s a special breed of man.  I have had sexual contact with all of them though I haven’t ever actually had PiV with one of them.  I got the impression recently that it might change soon.  We’ll see.  Gosh.  How do I differentiate them for this article.  Hm.  Well, there’s Dad–he’s up in Portland.  And the other two are both Daddy J____.  So that’s inconvenient.  Uhhh, one is in San Jose and the other is in Oakland.  That will have to be the detail.

Dad came into my life first.  I met him when I was 18 at the Power Exchange in San Francisco.  He was some skeavy old man and called out to me, “Hey you!  Come here!  We need bottoms.”  Always classy, that’s my Dad.  For the record that night I gave him a dirty look and avoided him.  I warmed up to him as I saw him at events around the bay in the subsequent months.  He spent a lot of time wasting his breath with lectures on how I should respect my elders.  He had no idea that I was innately hostile to any and all authority.  When he told me to respect my elders I would nastily snap back, “Yes, Dad.”  It gradually grew less heated.

At some point I acquired a bacterial infection.  Given my horror of all things medical I did not get it treated right away.  But I did hang out on IRC whining.  Dad spent a lot of time in the channel.  He offerred to meet me at the hospital so I didn’t have to be there alone.  He gave up watching a Sharks game with me.  We had a fun conversation with the orderly.  He made sure I was safe.  Not very many people have ever done that for me in my life.  I always have to go alone.  I would walk through fire for that man.

We’ve been friends for almost 12 years.  I will be going to his 60th birthday party in February.  I was at his 50th.  I will be at his 70th.  He’s my Dad.  I’m really glad I have him.

We have a weird play relationship.  There are specific techniques he has that I appreciate a lot.  Otherwise we aren’t much of a match.  And sex just didn’t work.  I couldn’t handle that.  AHHHH.  It was squicky for me because of the Dad thing.

I have a friend in San Jose who is my Daddy.  He is slightly twisted with it.  We’ve done some bdsm play and a little bit of light sex play, but we haven’t gone all the way.  This is weird because he’s one of the local poly gods.  I’m close enough in that I have a good relationship with him.  I don’t know how I would fuck that up if we had sex.  I do tend to make things more complicated than they need to be.  I actually think it wouldn’t fuck anything up.  I have no expectation that our relationship would change in the slightest if we shagged.  I would giggle more when he makes certain jokes and turn red.  That would be pretty much it.  It’s kind of nice to know that.

And uhm, my other Daddy.  I dated this man back when I dated Noah the first time.  I met him right after breaking up with Tom and I was looking hard for a Daddy.  We didn’t work out because we had different hunting priorities and I couldn’t handle that in a primary.  But we’ve remained close friends.  Recently we started kind of sniffing each other out.  I asked him why he was interested in putting up with something as difficult and complicated as this is going to be.  He said, “I love you.”  Yes.  That was the right answer.  He has proven over many years of me being really irritating that he does love me.  He never stopped.

This is why polyamory is so complicated.  How do these friends who are more than friends fit into life?  How do people build a tribe?  I’m still not dating so it is pretty irrelevant right now.  But it’s nice to fill my idle moments with thoughts about what it will be like when we don’t have babies any more.  What kinds of things will we be doing?

I want to travel and camp and go out into the world in a way Noah doesn’t.  I will take my kids with me most of the time, but I’m going to want to do grown up things too.  That’s going to be complicated to navigate.

When I think about my Daddies I think about how I ask for love and support from people.  These three men (along with the California Mind-fucker) have been my support for a very long time.  It’s interesting how our interactions change over time.  It’s interesting who we become to one another.

I stopped thinking about incest stuff during masturbation and sex a couple of years ago.  It became unacceptable to me in sex.  Not as a mother of daughters.  Ugh.  Ew.  No.  It helps that I’ve only been sleeping with Noah and I don’t want him thinking sexy incest thoughts.  Ew.  No.  I can’t handle that.  I know it would be a roleplay.  Don’t care.

But uhm, I’m going to be crawling into bed with my Daddy in about 12 hours.  We’re just going to snuggle.  So he says.  We’ll see.  I’m chanting downwards, “Stop bleeding. Stop bleeding.”  He wouldn’t even care.  He has a cold.  I don’t care.  I have a cold sore.  He doesn’t care.  This is the difference between an old lover and a new person.  I don’t have to feel like I am “up” to this.  I can just go as I am.  Because I’m good enough.  Because he loves me.