We are getting somewhere. But then again I keep thinking that only to have the house of cards come crashing down. Where are we getting?

More limits. Maybe just more understanding of how to dance around the limits that already exist? That’s probably closer.

Noah can handle a certain amount of me being slutty. I can have a date or two a month. I can fuck my friends. I can kiss my friends. But I’m pushing my luck getting so close to having a boyfriend. Noah is not open to me having a second live in partner. Ok. That’s fair enough.

If we want/need to figure out coparenting with more people it has to be more in the form and function of our Bonus Family. We don’t fuck them or play with them. We coparent. It keeps the lines less muddy.

Would I say I love K or B (the Bonus Parents) less than I love Daddy? Whoo boy. I don’t think so. I love them differently. I don’t love Daddy more because he hits me and fucks me deliciously.

(I’m afraid I am going to spend years trying to live down the phrase “deprivation vacation”. I wasn’t serious. You are all fabulous lovers or I wouldn’t come back. You notice how I come back? That means you aren’t deprivation. It’s just… variation. Sometimes I lack tact, ok? If I’m still fucking you… it’s not bad. Truly.)

But I stand unashamedly behind the notion that y’all ain’t better at fucking me than Noah. Practice helps.

It isn’t a competition. Tell that to all the folks who die alone with no sex or love.

But people aren’t disposable. People aren’t available just for the bits of themselves that are convenient.

This is why it is easy to be encouraging of my extra people finding other partners, sex, love, and intimacy. You deserve so much more than I can give you. You are wonderful. I’m glad you are here. I feel, pretty much all the time, like people deserve better than I can give them. Deity, Cupid, my submissive, Noah, my kids, Daddy, my friends…

I am inadequate.

All I can promise is that I am giving every speck I have to give. Divvying out my energy and time is hard.

Noah says: one or two dates a month. If I have sex or play with a friend it is a date. Every time I hang out with my sex-having friends it isn’t a date because sometimes it isn’t. Kissing doesn’t make it a date. I’m allowed to kiss my friends.

(That was one of the hardest boundaries for me to keep during monogamy. I like kissing.)

I remember parties in college, before I found the bdsm community and learned more rigid boundaries… I would go from lap to lap kissing on folks. Boys, girls, folks who I couldn’t guess and I didn’t ask. That was how I wanted to interact. I wasn’t good about asking permission and I’m sure I crossed boundaries.

I didn’t feel comfortable existing there without that.

A nice man came over to my house and kissed me recently. He’s not open even a little bit to group sex so we won’t see much of one another after that, but it was nice anyway.

I don’t want someone’s extra time. I just want the kiss.

I want to kiss you and give us both that little chemical jolt and say, “Have a lovely day.”

My shrink spent so much time telling me she is proud of how Noah and I are talking that she didn’t get around to finger wagging about how into Deity I am. Danger Will Robinson. But the boundaries are becoming clearer.

He’s my friend. Good golly do I like having sex with him. And kissing him. And hearing about his life. I wish many lovely things for him. I’m going to push like mad towards him having a primary. Because I can’t have him. Even if part of me wants him. I can have just a little part of him. Just a little bit left over.

Because that’s all I have left over too. Noah wants the rest and I want to give it to him. Because that is how I will keep him and I really need to keep Noah. Letting go of this would be letting go of thinking I deserve to be this important to someone. Because I will never again in this life find someone who thinks I am as important as Noah does. Deity won’t view me that way. No one else I’m dating will.

No one else I’ve ever met, not my parents, ever thought I was important the way Noah does.

Yes, I pick that. I pick Noah.

But I still want to suck Cupid’s cock. And I’m really looking forward to pegging my submissive while Noah fucks his mouth.

I want these things. I just have to get my schedule of childcare to match up with the mood swings.

I want to get better about not doing these things on days when I’m not up for it. I want to feel more ok about canceling and not feeling upset.

I want to feel like it is ok to be where I am right now.

Because so many of the things I do are ok if and only if I’m ok doing them right now and they are completely not ok at other times. Complicated.

Staying with Noah and treating him how I believe he deserves to be treated is important to me. It is hard that there are parts of me that want to disrespect him because of demographic data he can’t help. But I’m working on that. I can’t treat him like a symbol of the problem.

I need to treat him like my husband. That doesn’t mean I cover for him if he fucks up. Oh hell no. When the girl he raped came to me asking for support I was on her fucking side and I would have been as far as necessary. I know who I am and what I stand for. But outside of that, outside of him fucking up like whoa…

Noah has earned my loyalty. He’s earned forgiveness and tolerance. Because he has given it when I didn’t deserve it.

Breakfast is on the table.