I asked Noah questions last night about what he gets from sex, play, and dating. What he wants and what he needs. He told me a lot of things. Some of it I kinda knew. A lot of it I didn’t. In the end he said, “But the thing is, I want ____ with you more than any of that. If I do those things I won’t get to have ______ with you. It isn’t worth it.”

It’s true. If you date, Noah, you won’t get to have what you want from me. I won’t be able to give it to you. In order to share you I will have to keep you out at arm’s length.

I can share really really really well when someone doesn’t feel like mine. I’m the most generous slut ever when it comes to people who don’t belong to me.

I’m sorry Noah.

It isn’t fair. I know.

Why? Why can’t I share and have real closeness? Because I can’t. Because if you want to go see other people that’s fine but you are sleeping alone afterwards. Because I don’t want to touch you.

I don’t do that after play parties where he plays with people.

I’m an asshole.

Because I’m scared. Because I’m not very secure. Because I’m a baby. Because I can share the casual people because I don’t have any belief they will actually be in my life long-term. If they are that will be a pleasant surprise.

In order to share I have to be ok with not knowing you soon. Because if I don’t like how something is going with sharing I need to be able to walk away or I’m a mean nasty bitch. When I feel threatened I am horrible. Which is why I don’t feel possessive at all of my casual partners. It would be toxic and problematic.

But you want me to feel possessive of you. Which I do. Which means I want to scratch your face off for wanting serious alone time with someone else.

Because I’m a fucking asshole.

I’m not mad at them. I’m mad at you. I hate you for wanting that. Even though I want it. Because I’m a hypocrite and a fucking asshole.

This isn’t fair and I feel really guilty.

You can give this and I can’t.

That doesn’t seem fair at all.

In order to tolerate Noah dating I’ll need to make the garage into my bedroom and not come near him on the day of his dates because I’m mean. He doesn’t really want dating if it means I will be isolating away from him.

I’m not trying to punish you with the isolating. I’m trying to avoid punishing you. I know it doesn’t feel that way. My control is… variable.

Noah says that even though I document the kid fuck ups I don’t need to punish myself with publicly talking about every speck of what I do to him. Because he’s a grown up who has consented to this relationship and we talk seriously about when I step over the line and we keep track of it privately and he says I don’t need a public firing squad for being mean to him.

I think he is being too nice to me. I am scared of him not getting the support he deserves from friends.

I have had very blunt thoughts in my head about why I picked Noah. Of my available options in life, he really was my only chance at getting to write the specifics of the story I wanted. He was my only option who was interested in what we have now when he suddenly proposed out of the blue. He and I talked last night about what it took for him to get from what he offered when we dated initially to where we are now. It was quite a departure from established norms for both of us.

When he rattles things off I can see why he picked me. But I still don’t get, really, why I am worth so much ongoing trouble. I’m a lot of fucking trouble.

It is really hard to help me feel even a little bit secure. I’m not a secure person. Noah doesn’t just do cartwheels. He does them through flaming hoops. Suspended over water. I’m not sure how he manages.

Noah did concede that when I am not monogamous my orgasm response goes through the roof. Yes, I was doing better after the road trip. It’s true. Be fair. But not like when I’m dating. For the record: last night was awesome.

BIG NEWS! I finally started bleeding. HALLELUJAH!

I love that I went into the bathroom and after wiping I said, “Glory be!” Noah said, “Ahh, started bleeding?”

That kind of intimacy is awesome. He knows why I’d be happy in the bathroom. (Ok, I knew I wasn’t pregnant… but I was feeling paranoid. Yes I’m fucking thrilled to bleed. I knew I wasn’t pregnant because I’ve been pregnant four times. I will never ever mistake that feeling.)

It bothers me to know that if Noah died I don’t think I could ever let myself be in that serious of a relationship again. I don’t like how much I control Noah through my insecurities. The only way I know to manage that is to not get that serious about someone.

Why do I think nonmonagomy is good for my sexual drive? Because we had sex most days we saw each other in November (I got home at Thanksgiving). In December we had sex 14 times. In January 7 times. In February 14, right before going off leash.

In March we had sex 22 times. In April 29 times.

That’s nonmonogamy. That’s how it works in my body. I had sex with other people on six days in April. Usually I had sex more than once per date but not every single date due to timing.

That’s nonmonogamy.

I had sex with other people on two days in March.

We are up to 9 times for May. It’s the 4th of May. Oh god. May the 4th be with you. cringe

Why so high in May already? Anyone who will do 9 straight hours of processing with me for a date deserves lots of oral sex. That tends to lead to more things. Like last night.

Normally I don’t have sex on my period. At least not for the first few days. But for some reason oral then anal was beyond ok.

I think I am remembering the book right but we are having fun with Doc and Fluff overtones because we decided that ass fucking needs to be only in the marriage going forward. I had been considering it with other folks. I already did it once with my submissive. Noah wants me to not do that again. He won’t be fucking anyone else in the ass at parties either.

We are so possessive.

Noah was the first person to successfully fuck my ass. Other people tried first but he managed to do it in a way that was good and not traumatizing and was fun. He took me to Monterey for a weekend. Got me good and drunk on port then he seduced me and just… made it work.

I’ve done it with uhm a lot of other people since that before our marriage. Only a little bit since we got married. Sounds like I’m done.

Because Noah wants that. Ok. Yes. I like the idea that you want to be possessive. Be my guest.

(Yes I know I will have to update the users guide again at some point. How about if we kinda finish negotiating first.)

We probably only have 150 or 200 or so hours to go. Cheers.

When my therapist was a Berkeley dyke she commented that Noah processes more than a Berkeley dyke and that’s just weird.

I know you pay attention to me. I feel it. Thank you.

I’ve actually come a long way. I used to hide in the corner and cry when my Owner tied people up at parties. He didn’t ever have sex with them. He didn’t go on dates. I couldn’t handle having him touch other people.

I really have mellowed out. As improbable as that seems.

I am more secure.

Hilarious.

Apparently one of my friends thinks that cis-women are just too much trouble. I so am.

I’m not at a point where I feel particularly deserving of how difficult I am to deal with. I’m a lot of trouble. I take time, energy, so much attention….

I feel like a fucking vampire. I feel like I am evil. I drain people.

I want more than my share and that’s wrong.

I have this black hole inside of me and I don’t know what to do about it. I need a lot of love. I need a lot of attention. In order to be perky and cheerful I need a ridiculous amount of sex.

Like, so much that my therapist bugs her eyes out and says, “I don’t understand how you physically do that and get other stuff done.” Oh I get a lot more done when I’m taking breaks for sex frequently. It seriously fuels my productivity.

I definitely overdid it in April. I hit burnout feeling. I am feeling kinda done with people but my life is still very scheduled. It’s going to be one of those time periods when I celebrate people canceling on me and I still don’t turn anything down because I’m dumb. (Ok, I’ll turn dates down. I mean friends.)

Because I ran away from home to stretch taut the strings in my life. Folks are trying to pull at the strings and I just can’t say no to tightening those bonds.

I need you and you and you and you and you and you and you.

Why do I need all of you so bad? Because none of you have that much to offer me. And I’m a black fucking hole.

The only trouble is y’all have your own needs and this has to be a trade and that’s why I’m feeling so burned out.

I get a lot of energy from folks. I give a lot too. It’s going to be fascinating to try and regulate this so that I’m nice to Noah and the kids.

I’m not capable of figuring out how the rest of my web will look in 30 years. I know that my life will largely revolve around Noah and my kids if I don’t fuck things up. Noah wants it and Noah is demonstrably all in on making that true. My kids show every sign of being folks I will be able to have a relationship with later.

I don’t know for sure that we will live near each other. But the way Deity talks about his parents gives me hope.

There’s a juxtaposition. One of the things that probably contributes strongly to why Noah is so safe for me is because he is not melodramatically divorced from his family…but he doesn’t actually have a relationship with them. That’s broken. What exists now is mostly there because of me and my damn letters.

Deity has a very positive relationship with his family. Listening to him talk about his interactions with them is fascinating because I want that.

But I don’t think there would have ever been any possibility of my becoming part of that kind of thing as the child side at this point. I think I… I would be the problem.

I need a partner who, like me, is alone. Who needs that obsessive enmeshment because that is what we have in this life.

But I want to be the parents for that.

And I want side pieces. Cause I’m a selfish asshole. No, because when I have side action I want to fuck for five hours straight when my kids aren’t home. Ok, not straight. We can take breaks. Cumulatively. In between talking about intense and overwhelming topics that most people never want to talk about at all.

Yes. That.

I want that. Someone who has the time and energy to spend most of the rest of their life obsessively fucking me. Because they don’t have that much else really… pulling their attention away. Yup. I want that.

I have that.

I am so lucky.

I don’t feel like I’m isolating him because he only sees his friends because I make him go. I push him to schedule trips with friends. I suggest people for him to email and go visit. I am forcing him to create his own web.

Because if I break he will need to be caught.

And my web, while wonderful… wouldn’t be perfect at that. It is shaped for me.

I don’t really want him to be alone. But it makes it a lot easier for us to enmesh the way we do that we don’t have families who try to hold us into an image of who we are. We are free to create our relationship without giving a shit about approval.

That’s…

That’s a big thing.

I might have different feelings about a lot of what we do if we did. I don’t know. I can’t know.

The problem with all this desire to go out to parties together is babysitting. But! I’m arranging split custody stuff with a friend. Because that’s how this is going to work. The kids need folks to be with all night long on a regular basis and this is how I can arrange this. And my friend needs some damn support.

Four kids is often easier than two. It’s weird. They are very self contained. There are times when it feels like being a circus ringmaster and I’m so grateful they get to go home.

I’m keeping them two nights this week. My friend kept my kids for three nights in a row. While her kids were puking. Yes honey, you can rest.

Thank you so much for giving me space to ride that whole emotional roller coaster. I’m really glad Noah and I got to talk for probably 24 hours in that time period. We are… talkers. We have a lot to process right now.

God I love this man.

Taking breaks from the emotional processing and bonding for vicious sex just seems like, yeah… that’s what I signed on for.

Today I am setting up a guest bedroom for a bit. Pam could use a place to sleep. We have a weekend long guest coming soon. Another friend spends the night sometimes and can’t crawl over the tile work. It’s going to suck because it is in the play room with the window removed but the garage doesn’t work right now. At least it is warm! And Noah has one more date on the books. I’m not going to be an asshole.

Damnit.

I don’t know why I have this thing about not canceling but I do. Once something is scheduled… canceling is… whoa. I don’t do that.

It hurts people when you make plans with them and don’t keep them. That… that hurts. It gets their hopes up and then makes them feel like they aren’t that important. I don’t like to do that. I try very hard to meet the expectations I set. Which is really complicated for someone who is as moody as I am. Heh. When I negotiate for weeks then wake up in a mood…

Heh.

With casual people I can get it up. I can take on a role for a limited date and do what I said I’d do. I know that in the long run I’ll be happy with myself.

With Noah that’s… shit I can’t do that all the time.

Ok, here’s a weird sticky wicket about why I’m less inclined to ask Noah to cancel the date he has scheduled. That person… I’ve played with. I’d uhm really like to play with her again some day. Which uhm yeah. Not to mention that she is a very close friend who has been present at some of the absolute most intimate moments of my life.

Complicated.

And after his date with her we had ridiculously hot sex because I felt very comfortable fantasizing about her and we were kinda… yeah. That wasn’t awful and bad. I freaked out because they did it in her house in a way that I started juxtaposing with pictures of my kids and that made me sick to my stomach.

Because my kids go there. Ugh. Gross. No. Yuck. Bad. No.NOnonononononono

See, this is so random and fucking weird.

It isn’t that I object to Noah having a sexual relationship with her. I really don’t.

I wish I understood what my boundaries were. That would make this so much easier.

Near as I can tell the only way to figure out my boundaries is to keep fucking up and crossing them so that I can course correct and stop doing that bit. That’s the only thing that has ever worked.

Speaking of which, it’s 6:30. Time to go on duty. Bye internet. I love you. Talk to you later.