When it comes to non-monogamy, 2012 kicked 2013’s ass up and down the proverbial block.  For us, at least.  While last year included more than a few threesomes, including one on this very date, in 2013 such activity has occurred at a much more sporadic pace than either of us would like.
 
Or maybe it hasn’t occurred with any less frequency than it did last year – not that it really occurred frequently – but 2013 certainly feels lacking in the non-monogamy department.  That may be because, due to a number of developments, neither Jill nor I were quite as able (or indeed as determined) to make sexy connections with others as we were in 2012.

One thing is certain, though:  2013 included a hell of a lot of planned meetings that, for one reason or another, simply didn’t materialize.  And while such missed connections are unavoidable when you seek to play with others, it can obviously be frustrating when all you experience are cancellations and changes of plans.

There was the time we took a trip that happened to land us not five miles from the home of a sexy friend we both fancied.  The three of us looked forward to finally meeting after a couple years of online-only interaction.  Sex wasn’t necessarily on the agenda, though neither of us would have complained if it was, and indeed the steamy conversations this friend often had with Jill made it seem possible if not likely.  As my wife does treasure the experience of intimacy with another woman, she was excited, though I must again state that there was no expectation of sex.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason – it wasn’t made clear at the time, nor since – our friend found herself unable to meet.  There may have been some sort of transportation issue that prevented her from being able to come hang out, or it may have been something else.  It was frustrating for both of us; having the excitement of an long-awaited meeting suddenly snuffed out can cause doubt and anxiety.  This is particularly true of Jill, who felt rejected.  At times like this it is vital to remind oneself that such rejection is not necessarily personal, but that is often easier said than done.

We planned a big family trip last summer.  We informed some of our Twitter and blogging friends who live in the areas we planned to visit in the hopes of adding to our “online friends we’ve actually met in the flesh” list, and hopefully our “online friends with whom we’ve had sex” list as well.  This time we were the ones forced to back out when our trip was completely changed at essentially the last minute.

The change was completely out of our hands, and indeed the trip we ended up taking was far less spectacular than the one we’d planned.  Still, we felt terrible about cancelling.  The people we hoped to meet were very understanding, but it took awhile before either Jill or I were able to interact with them without the sort of awkward remorse you feel months after you’ve stepped on someone’s foot at a crowded party and made them spill their drink all over themselves.

Finally, a couple with whom we’d interacted frequently had asked if we were interested in getting together last month.  They were hoping for general group stuff, though the husband wanted to have a threesome with his wife and Jill.  Needless to say, we were interested, and we blocked off the proposed weekend in our calendars and arranged childcare.  Fortunately the other couple cancelled well before we’d booked a flight or a hotel.

We knew that it wasn’t us; the other couple had a personal situation which caused them to re-prioritize and essentially take a step back from the scene.  Still, it was disappointing to come so close yet again, especially considering that, for a few months, this weekend getaway was an oasis in the middle of the dessert if you will, or a light at the end of the tunnel.  For me, the occasional break in the seemingly endless sea of monogamy is important.  Not having such a break, or perhaps worse missing out on an expected break, takes its toll.

Things are not as bleak as you might think, however.  I’ve been perusing OKCupid more intensively than I have at any point since joining the popular dating site.  I’m not sure whether I’ll do more than just browse at this point; I’ve made a short list of prospects who are relatively close geographically, aren’t looking for a serious commitment or for single men, and who appeal to me physically and mentally, but obviously I’m not going to initiate contact unless I’m certain it’s what Jill wants me to do.

I’ve also struck up a friendship with a pretty young cashier at our local Barnes & Noble.  We’ll call this person “B”, as in “Bookstore”.  She’s poly, in a relationship, and has expressed her attraction to me.  Providing Jill gives her consent, sex with B is pretty much a given.  B is also interested in hooking up with Jill and I together, though I get the impression that threesomes aren’t her primary focus.  Oddly, when we first started talking in August, nervousness got the better of me and I declined to call her when I said I would.  After more than a month I’d written her off, but she recently texted me out of the blue.  Seems like we’re still friends at the very least.  We’ll see.  

Perhaps most promisingly, a friend with whom I went to high school has expressed her interest in both Jill and I.  We’ll call this person “S”, because unless I’m mistaken we haven’t used that initial to represent anyone thusfar.  S is someone I’ve long felt attraction to, and after a few tentative stabs at flirtation on Facebook, she and I had a very frank discussion about non-monogamy and discovered in each other a free-spirited, unrestrained sexuality that neither suspected.  For the last month or so, the three of us have been discussing the possibilities that might arise from a meeting.

Of course, much like everyone we’d like to play with, S isn’t local.  But the thought of having a threesome with her and Jill (her favorite scenario to discuss in IM conversations and the like) is very appealing, and I can see us taking a few days and paying her a visit.  Stay tuned.

Of late, I find that Twitter no longer gives me what I need to get me through my day.  The spontaneous flirtation and sexy chat quotient is way down compared to six months ago.  It’s my own fault, of course.  I shouldn’t have disappeared for a month and a half.  During that time my followers decreased, though not significantly.  More importantly, more tragically, the amount of interactions I enjoyed with sexy people also dropped.

Continuing to tweet rather than taking a break wasn’t an option.  Had I not logged out on my computer, not removed the app from my phone, I know that the many obligations, professional and otherwise, that dogged my every step throughout September, would have gone unfulfilled, and the stress would have taken a very unfortunate toll on me.  Understand what I’m telling you:  I’m such a hopeless Twitter junkie that I had to actually uninstall the Twitter app from my phone.

On some level, I knew that a decrease in the amount of pervy interactions I enjoyed with sexy people was inevitable in the wake of my hiatus.  I wish I didn’t require these interactions to equalize the toll that being a stay-at-home parent takes on me.  But I do.  And it does.  Make no mistake, I love my daughter.  She never fails to make me smile, even when she’s acting out, refusing to sleep, or throwing a tantrum in public.  Because even at the worst of times, even when she is challenging me in ways I can’t abide, I realize that Jill and I made her.  She is a part of us.

But being a stay-at-home dad has taken its toll.  I am physically and mentally exhausted, much more in need of sleep now than I was a year ago when I would regularly stay up until two or three o’clock in the morning writing and editing blog posts or commenting on the blog posts of others.  This could be due to the fact that my daughter is much more active now, and as a result I must also be.  She talks more.  She thinks more.  She asks more questions.  I’m proud of her for all of these things.  But I need a break.

On the other hand, perhaps my fatigue is tied directly into the fact that I’m interacting with others less than I was.  The thought of waking to a flattering blog comment or a sexy tweet was all the motivation I needed.  I could happily get four hours of sleep on any given night with the understanding that I’d be talking dirty to some fellow sexy blogger or trading naughty tweets once I woke.  These days I sleep a lot more – I average six or seven hours per night – but the odds of having a sexy conversation to take the edge off my day are slimmer than before.

So maybe it’s a lack of time and energy on my part.  I’m usually exhausted.  That comes with the territory when you’re raising a rambunctious kid and you’re determined to give her a fun and exciting childhood.  Maybe it’s a lack of interest on the part of my followers.  I can’t say I blame them if it is.  We tweet much less than we once did.  We are barely blogging.  Maybe I’m just less into the whole kink scene than I was a year ago.  Maybe we both are.  While Jill and I will never be vanilla, our prospects for non-monogamy have all but dried up.  Financial issues have made travel difficult, and these days playing locally is pretty much out of the question.

At the start of the school year we found out that one of Jill’s co-workers may have been fired for some sort of “sexual impropriety”.  It’s all rumor at this point, of course; as far as I know no one’s spoken to the fired co-worker and gotten her side of the story.  Also, I have no idea as to the nature of the supposed impropriety.  Caught at a sex club?  Extramarital affair?  Poly relationship or triad?  Something to do with a minor?  Horse-fucking?  Obviously as long as it doesn’t involve a party that is unable or unwilling to give consent, I don’t consider it an offense worthy of termination.

That said, my wife is a teacher.  She works with young children.  Because of this, different standards apply to her than to medical professionals, carpenters, supermarket clerks, and bus drivers.  I don’t know if the rumors about this person’s termination are true, nor do I know where they originated.  For all I know, the person just moved away and all the whispered rumormongering is born of paranoia or sex-negativity.

Anyway, that’s probably a big part of the reason why Jill hasn’t tweeted of late.  That’s also part of the reason why our prospects have dried up.  That’s also part of the reason why I rely so extensively on my online interactions with others.  I can get off using Kik, Twitter, Skype, or a number of other avenues that don’t require face-to-face contact.  It’s not ideal, but in a pinch it’ll do just fine.  We’ve got nothing planned with others in the near future, and I would definitely consider that a pinch.

As a guy who grows increasingly uncomfortable with monogamy, this is a problem for me.  I need the promise of regular non-monogamy to be content.  I need the sight of another pair of breasts, another willing mouth, another available orifice, on the horizon.  That’s just the way I am.

My preference is to play alongside my wife.  We’re a team, after all, and we work well together.  That’s why threesomes – preferably with sexy bi-ladies – are so ideal.  We invariably both come away from the experience very satisfied as we’ve had our sexual needs met, and together we meet the sexual needs of another.  But I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.  Jill has a sudden aversion to playing locally, i.e. with people from our own area.  This is understandable considering the situation.  Were our sexual proclivities to become a matter of public record she would certainly lose her job and find herself blacklisted from getting another in her chosen field.

Whether she gets past her aversion in a couple weeks, six months, or never doesn’t matter to me.  Right now it’s a very real barrier, and something I must respect out of love for my wife.  At any rate, she doesn’t seem to be as conflicted about it as I am.  She’s of the mind that if something comes along, and the circumstances allow, great.  If it doesn’t, also great.  She enjoys playing with others, but she doesn’t require it the way I do.

We’ve discussed me playing alone, since the need is much more pressing for me than it is for her.  For whatever reason I’m having trouble with it.  There’s risk involved, of course, as Jill’s local social network is vast.  In the event that I was seen at a bar schmoozing a woman who is not my wife, her relatives, friends, and co-workers would be unwilling to consider that we’ve got an open relationship.  And while this wouldn’t affect Jill’s and my relationship, it would definitely affect Jill’s relationship with whoever saw me.

Some of these people have intimated that they suspect I’m a womanizer with the potential for cheating.  I’m okay with this.  I have no intention of subjugating my will to the expectations of unqualified others.  That said, I have every intention of sparing my wife the embarrassment that would result from the discovery that her husband likes having sex with other women.  In the interest of maintaining the illusion, one of her two rules is “Be discreet”.  The other is “Be safe”.  She’s such an amazing wife.

I’m not sure why I can’t just take yes for an answer.  Maybe I’m afraid that this isn’t really what she wants, that she’s capitulating under duress.  She insists that she’s not, and trust me, she’d say so if she was.  In fact, she wouldn’t capitulate.  Jill is not the sort to capitulate under any circumstances.  Compromise, yes.  Capitulate, no.

So why am I having so much trouble proceeding?  Anyone as preoccupied with non-monogamy as I am would have gone for it long ago.  But I am also aware that my wife was raised to believe in monogamy, and while she’s had fun with our handful of very gratifying non-monogamous experiences and would certainly like to have more, she would probably shed no tears if such a thing never happened again.

I guess I’ve brainstormed enough for one day.  Now I believe I will take my child to the park while the sun is out and the sky is blue.  And if any of the single and stay-at-home moms who happen to be there catch my eye, I may strike up a conversation.

– Jack

…and I suppose that we owe all of you – if anyone’s still reading – an explanation as to our whereabouts.  First off, this isn’t like that time we disappeared for more than a year.  Back then we had no Twitter accounts, and were essentially unreachable.  I assume that those of you who followed our blog back then figured that we’d run off and joined a commune or something.  This time, however, we’ve generally been active on Twitter, and were also reachable via email and Kik during our blogging hiatus.

Our blog went quiet in June.  Granted, we weren’t blogging much during the first six months of the year.  But in June we stopped blogging.  It was announced by Google that all adult blogs that were monetized – that is, for profit – would be deleted without warning.  The rumor was that Google was actually planning to delete all adult blogs, regardless of whether they were monetized.  Terrified by the prospect of losing five years of writing and erotic photography, we immediately exported this blog to WordPress.  We’d had a good run at Blogger, but no way in hell did we want to see our sexy legacy unceremoniously trashed.

Our new blog opened shortly thereafter.  We opted not to self-host, setting up a rudimentary home through WordPress itself until we had a chance to work out the logistics, financial and otherwise, of having our own domain.  Time was also an issue; we spent most of July traveling and were unable to focus properly on self-hosting.  However, shortly after our WordPress blog was up and running they announced that, like Blogger, they would also be shuttering non-self-hosted adult blogs.

Are you fucking kidding me?

We were about to embark on a cruise when this announcement was made.  With little choice, both of our blogs were quickly made invitation-only until we could return home and figure out what to do with them.  Sure, self-hosting is a popular option.  But we had published less than fifteen posts since the first of the year.  Was it really worth it to drop in upwards of a hundred bucks for a couple years of hosting for a blog we weren’t even sure if we still wanted?

We didn’t have time to address the situation before the end of our summer break, and by late August I had even stepped away from Twitter due to a number of obligations both foreseen and unforeseen.  Most elective activities took a backseat to real life, which was suddenly racing by at a breakneck pace.  With the number of things that required my immediate attention, blogging was unfortunately less than an afterthought.

One thing I did notice during this time was the vast number of adult blogs Google hadn’t deleted.  Many of our blogging friends remained at their original Blogger homes.  This made it clear to us that, at least for now, for-profit blogs were the only ones being deleted.  We’d received many requests for invitations, so a week ago we decided to make our blog public once again.  And here we are.

So welcome back, if you’re a returning reader.  If this is your first visit, thanks for stopping by.  We hope you enjoy what you find here.

– Jack

On Thursday, a fellow blogger asked me what happened to our blog.  I replied that it still exists – the fact that you’re reading this post is proof of that – but that over the last few months I’ve had far too many obligations to post much, let alone blog on a daily basis as we did in 2012.

These days, my desk is cluttered with a variety of writing projects – spec screenplays, in-progress novel manuscripts, short fiction, non-fiction works, and even a commission.  I am buried in work, much of which sits undone because my stay-at-home Dad schedule kicks my ass every day of the week.

However, one thing I have conscientiously pushed myself to do every single day, at least for the last month, is masturbate.  I know that some of you reading this are scoffing at the pride with which I tout this accomplishment.  For you, masturbation isn’t something one somehow manages to do despite various other responsibilities.  For you, masturbation is the top priority.  I know; I used to be just like you.

Being a parent to a toddler, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere on this blog, can put a serious crimp in one’s masturbation schedule.  Toddlers are unpredictable.  They’re always on the move.  They’re vocal.  They’re needy.  It’s easy to compulsively masturbate when your child sleeps most of the time, or at least naps once a day.  My child, however, doesn’t nap.  She is independent, but at the same time she likes to be able to see me.  If I leave the room for too long she comes to find me, and there is no lock on our bedroom door.  Even if there was she’d simply knock, yell, and cry until my erection not only deflates but retracts into my body cavity like a frightened turtle.

So while I used to be very proud of my busy masturbation schedule, I’ve accepted the fact that most of the time it’s just not going to happen.  Frankly, if by some miracle my toddler actually naps, I’m usually too busy decompressing to even think about having an orgasm.  Under those circumstances masturbation is the sort of thing that I tell myself I’ll do later, after I’m finished decompressing.  Of course, the last three years have taken such a toll on my mental health that I’ll probably never finish decompressing.  I acknowledge that sometimes I just need to say to hell with decompression – it’s time for an orgasm.

And make no mistake, were I allowed an hour – hell, thirty minutes – of uninterrupted “me” time every single day, my sanity wouldn’t be stretched thinner than a worn rubber band.  As my child sometimes grants me a bathroom break, I suppose I could excuse myself and go jerk off in there, but the last time I checked I was a full-grown adult, and not a deeply ashamed thirteen-year-old.  Other than on occasion when the mood strikes me during a shower, I’m no longer one to masturbate in the bathroom.  I’d like to think I’ve outgrown the practice and, dare I say, I deserve better.

In the past, when my daughter was content to play in her room with the baby gate denying her egress, I might have ventured naked onto our balcony, sat in a patio chair and stroked myself to a very satisfying climax, likely while conversing with a sexy friend on Twitter or some instant messaging app on my phone.  It didn’t matter if the sun was shining, or if it was pouring rain.  Being outdoors afforded me a minor exhibitionist thrill that invariably intensified my play.

But you know what didn’t intensify it?  What nearly brought it to a screeching halt, in fact?  The eventual nagging worry, as I got lost in my pleasure, that my child might hurt herself in her bedroom, and I wouldn’t be able to hear her cries because the glass door to the balcony was always inexplicably closed.  But our across-the-hall neighbors would have heard.  Unbeknownst to me, they would have called the police who, upon hearing a hysterically-crying child inside our unit, would have kicked open the door and come to her rescue, finding me on the balcony mid-orgasm and inhibiting me sexually for the rest of my life.  In case you skipped the second paragraph, I’m a writer.  I have a very vivid imagination.

Eventually my kid outgrew the baby gate.  Letting her roam free throughout the house while I retreated onto the balcony meant there was no way she wasn’t going to come knocking on the glass.  So the balcony eventually lost some of its appeal as a masturbation location.  These days, the only thing that’ll do me is to stretch out on my bed, read sex blogs (or Twitter) on my phone, or fire up some porn on my tablet while focusing on my goal of all-encompassing pleasure.

Yes, I’m watching more porn than I was a year ago.  No, I’m not proud of this.  Make no mistake, I’m not ashamed of it, either.  I like porn.  But I’m also the sort of person who prefers to be stimulated mentally:  Some intense flirtation, a sexy chat, whatever.  I’m as turned on by a hot visual as I am by a good blow job, but I prefer to let my arousal build gradually, whether I’m masturbating or having sex.  I love the anticipation that comes from waiting for an instant message that I just know is going to be hot.  I love the sound of an incoming video call on Skype.  I love progressing through a sexy chat, knowing the other person is every bit as aroused as I am.

However, I’m not always afforded the luxury of time.  That’s why, at least half the time, when I am looking to get off I simply select a favorite porn clip and get to work.  If my child is awake elsewhere in the house, occupied perhaps with a few books or a television show, I am aware that she may come running in at any second.  If she does there’s no chance she isn’t going to climb up on the bed where I have hopefully wrapped myself in a blanket the instant I hear her approaching footsteps.

The smart thing to do, of course, is to wake up early and get it out of the way while she’s still asleep.  However, given my penchant for late nights I find it difficult to haul myself out of bed before my daughter wakes up and comes wandering into my room.  Additionally, while I know that a quick orgasm first thing in the morning will help me stay focused throughout the day, and thus be a better dad and generally more productive, I realize that there are no guarantees.  Arousal dogs my every step.  There’s no rhyme or reason to it.  One minute I might be perusing legal documents, scrubbing the grout in our bathroom, or preparing lunch for my daughter.  The next minute I may well be contemplating my sudden erection, wondering why it seems to be mocking me.

With all of this in mind, the fact that I have managed to masturbate daily throughout May – that’s right, every single day of Masturbation Month – is actually quite impressive.  In fact, most days my body has cooperated fully, granting me my usual short refractory period and allowing me another orgasm or three, time permitting.  Some mornings I have one.  Other mornings I have none, and must get creative in order to manage one later in the day.  Some mornings I have five.  And let me just say that at age thirty-six, the volume of my fifth ejaculation over the course of an hour and a half is much greater than I would have thought it would be.

Sometimes I wonder if position has any effect on ejaculation.  Masturbating on my back is a relatively new thing, and I really enjoy it.  Not only is it fun and relaxing, but it also facilitates my orgasm when Jill is riding me, something that has been fairly elusive in the past.  On the other hand, if ejaculation is affected by position, it stands to reason that masturbating on one’s back might lessen the volume, given that the semen must flow upstream, as it were.  It seems like ejaculation would be assisted by gravity, meaning that kneeling or standing might result in greater volume.

On the other hand, I’m relatively certain that when I masturbate while kneeling, sitting, or standing up I rarely observe my ejaculation.  I’m not sure what my eyes are doing – probably rolling back in their sockets, if I had to guess – but I generally don’t focus on my cock as it’s erupting and I therefore can’t accurately describe my load.  On the other hand, lying supine affords me a better vantage point, and I can admit that as I’ve been utilizing this position my eyes are generally drawn to the epicenter.  I enjoy watching myself ejaculate, and am generally content to let it fly, rather than inhibiting the flow of semen as I might when on my knees or perhaps sitting in a chair.

To those that might worry that stay-at-home parenthood – or parenthood in general, for that matter – must in some way limit one’s sex life, specifically one’s masturbation regimen, I am here to disprove the rumor.  Yes, my relationship with my cock has evolved over the last three years, but we aren’t estranged.  My urgent need for regular sexual release has caused me to alter my masturbation habits, and in my opinion that’s always a good thing.  Routine is the enemy of anything worth doing.  Little Jack and I are rekindling our relationship, finding new ways of keeping the fires lit, and just because Masturbation Month is drawing to a close I see no reason to lessen the momentum.

I will leave you with a link to last year’s Masturbation Month post, wherein Jill shares her thoughts
on self-pleasure and a sexy video wherein she brings herself to climax – and ejaculation – with her Eroscillator.  If you haven’t yet checked it out, now’s your chance.

Tweeted this on Tuesday.  It didn’t get much of a response, but even if it had, it bears repeating.

Just walked into the children’s section at my local library, where storytime had just let out. A huge group of moms were gathered.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) March 26, 2013

One dad playing lovingly with his child amidst a sea of moms. I might as well have been the hairless werewolfboy from Twilight.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) March 26, 2013

I like the idea that I will inspire many vibrator-assisted orgasms amongst these ladies when they get home.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) March 26, 2013

Not only is stay-at-home fatherhood a great opportunity to bond with one’s children, but it can also be an enormous ego boost.

– Jack