By the way, the other day, when The Bunny was with me (and Other Chick was apparently feeling ignored)…he was helping me clean my apartment.

Things here had gotten…bad. Really bad. I felt like a loser for letting things slide so much, and blamed my clinical depression for taking away my energy and motivation. But actually when I look at my work schedule for November, I didn’t have more than one day off in a row the whole month and I had quite a few days where I posed for multiple classes, with not enough time to go home in between, so that I was out of the house for a total of 12-15 hours. Sometimes I’d have a few of that kind of day in a row. And I don’t know what the fuck “normal” is anymore but…I think maybe even someone not-depressed would be burnt out by that much work at a highly physical job?

So I’m trying not to lambaste myself anymore.

But anyway, it’s not showroom-perfect in here by any means but it’s SO. MUCH. BETTER. I’d been sleeping on the couch for the last four months or so, partly because my bedroom was almost impossible to navigate*. But I could sleep in there again now if I wanted to (I can’t easily have a laptop in the bedroom right now because reasons, and most nights I need to be falling asleep to a tv show or movie, so I’m still sleeping in the living room for now. But I could totally use a bed like a normal person!).

I love The Bunny so much for helping me. It was really hard for me to ask him (and I was only able to ask him because he’s offered in the past so I figured it wasn’t totally out of the question) but when I texted him that I really need some help digging me out from under my mess, he immediately replied “I’m free Wednesday afternoon or Saturday night.” And he showed up with garbage bags, nitrile gloves, and a game plan.

And now that there’s been headway made, I’ve been slowly improving on it even without anyone helping. I was just overwhelmed before, is all. I mean I had started compiling bags of trash and recycling on my own, but it barely seemed to make a difference and I was getting frustrated.

I can’t remember if I mentioned this but I went off my meds for a while…basically I just forgot to take them for a bunch of days in a row, and then I realized I didn’t have much of a supply left but due to my work schedule I wouldn’t be able to get more pills in time, and I kind of chose to stop taking them on purpose rather than stop because I’d run out. And then my libido that had been MIA for literally years unexpectedly came back, so I really didn’t want to take my pills because SSRIs always fuck with my orgasms and/or sex drive and I just wanted a damn window of time where my downstairs was functioning normally. Buuuuut then the libido leveled off by itself and I noticed I was seriously backsliding into unable-to-do-anything-but-the-bare-necessities mode so yeah. I’m back on them again and waiting for them to kick in.

Hopefully, I can do a major, major purge of apartment clutter during the brief time between me going back on meds and the meds inexplicably not working anymore, and then the place will be easier to maintain after that.

(Yeah, every antidepressant I’ve ever taken stops working. Honestly, at times I wish I’d never tried any at all because it seems like kind of a horrible tease to give my brain a glimpse of what neurotypical is like and then take it away again. Like, this time around I’d slid into depression so slowly that I didn’t even realize it – it had been years since I’d been on any drugs for this, and I’d forgotten what my medicated brain was like. But now the drugs have reminded me of what it’s like to have energy and motivation and decisiveness and be able to go outside without anxiety and stuff. And I know I’m inevitably going to lose that. I feel like the guy from Flowers for Algernon. Or Wile E. Coyote standing in the shadow of a falling rock with his little “help!” sign.)

Anyway. Tl;dr – I can walk from my couch to my bed without having to vault over piles of clutter now, and The Bunny is my hero.

*And partly because I’d just gotten the new kitten, whom I barricaded into the kitchen for the first week or so in order to keep her out of trouble and let Bastardcat get used to her. So I slept in the living room so I could hear her if she cried or anything. I think maybe the bedroom didn’t get impassable til later.


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Layers of poly conundra

I’ve considered myself poly for years but have rarely actually dated someone who had (an)other partner(s), so this is new to me.

Today The Bunny’s Other Chick messaged me on FetLife asking if he’s prone to “dropping off the face of the Earth for extended times with minimal contact.”

I figured that if she was asking me this, she must be in full out paranoia mode (like I get into sometimes, although actually I think I’d be too proud ever to contact a metamour like this!). I know that she’s a wee bit of an anxious person, and that she and The Bunny have had issues in the past because she couldn’t use her words to tell him that she wanted more contact with him – it sounds like they have wildly disparate ideas of how often they’d like to “touch base” in their relationship. I also know that, in her paranoia, Other Chick started assuming at one point that if The Bunny is ever unavailable to see her, it’s because he’s got plans with me. He says she doesn’t hate me or anything but she does see me as competition.

Anyway. Other Chick’s anxiety made me feel solidarity with her and want to comfort her – at the very least I didn’t want to make it worse or get The Bunny into some kind of trouble – but what the hell could I say? If I said that The Bunny doesn’t fall out of touch with me for all that long ever, she’d take it personally that he does so with her – also she seems fairly clingy so maybe he actually is contacting us both the same amount but for me it’s enough and for her it’s not.

I couldn’t say “I just saw him today and he seemed totally normal and didn’t mention having any issues with you” – that would open up multiple cans of worms, namely that he was obviously contacting me but not her, and that sometimes he’ll talk to me about issues they’re having (never trash-talking her, just asking advice, but still).

I finally settled on “He might go a day or two without contact sometimes, which feels like an extended period to me compared to how often he would text me when we were first seeing each other. Also his new stupid-early work shift has affected things a bit, I think – he’s in bed earlier nowadays. I’m sure everything’s fine. Deep breaths. :)”

She responded “It’s a bit more than that, I suspect…but thanks anyways.”

And again, I really wanted to say something comforting but there was nothing that wouldn’t open a whole can of worms. So I just let the conversation die.

I mean fuck, maybe The Bunny is souring on her. He may sometimes mention their arguments to me because he’s seeking my input, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of person to tell me when he’s planning on breaking up with someone else if he’s definitely decided to, or even to tell me he’s growing apart from someone.

And then the other angle of this weirdness is that I kinda want to tell The Bunny about this conversation – like just so he knows that she’s feeling insecure and can maybe step up his game – but feel like it would be a betrayal of the girl-code. Also I don’t want to be enabling Other Chick’s passive aggressive tendencies. If she feels like The Bunny’s being weirdly silent lately she needs to say so to him, out loud.

I’m not actually against befriending a metamour and/or talking with them about our shared partner. But this particular chick…I mean I’m guessing if The Bunny likes her then she must have many good points, but she also sounds like she has similar anxiety issues to mine but without the self-awareness or coping mechanisms I’ve developed over the years. So with Other Chick, I am not comfortable having the “so what’s going on with [mutual partner]? I haven’t heard from him in ages” talk. Because I think this is more than just her looking for insights into The Bunny – this is her potentially scoping out how he is with me and bringing out an arsenal of sophisticated measuring devices in order to figure out whether he’s treating both of us exactly equally. And there is no “are we equal?” in poly. There’s only “Am I getting what I need?” And I don’t think she understands this.

Anyway. If she keeps asking me stuff, I’ll probably tell her that I’m not comfortable getting in the middle of their relationship and she needs to address shit with him.


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Cultural scars

Bought yet another dick. Mine and I are both fascinated by the idea of him being able to take the biggest cock possible, and he’s shown that he can accommodate my current biggest one pretty easily*, so this shall be the stepping stone between my biggest one and the ridiculous one he bought a while back. I’m honestly not sure the ridiculous one will ever fit inside him**, but if we up the ante gradually you never know.

It occurred to me, a while back, that some of our mutual kinks come from places I don’t approve of.

Like, people in North American culture are socialized to believe that men have this huge, endless libido – a force of nature that they just can’t control – and women are just “meh” about sex and only grudgingly partake in it because of love, not lust. And I suspect that Mine internalized these ideas and that, like many men, he doesn’t usually feel sexually desirable – so his go-to fantasy of being desired revolves around being fucked by random dudes.

And we’re also socialized to believe that a big dick is supposed to be some kind of big deal. Or maybe part of that is a logical extension of when we’re told, as children, “men have penises and women have vaginas” – if “outie” genitals are the sole way we define a man, then a man with huge genitals must be even more of a man! I don’t know. But Mine is a total size queen and the dude-side of my genderqueerness is obsessed with having the biggest dick in the whole damn world. I mean I like pegging dudes and I’ll wear whatever size of dildo they’ll enjoy, but wearing a big dick makes me feel manly and powerful.

I hate that I associate a big dick with power and manliness in that way. I know, on a conscious level, that tons of stereotypically masculine dudes don’t have huge dicks (and that you can be not-stereotypically masculine and still be a man and/or have a big dick!). I know that a big dick doesn’t confer any power but the power of making your partner go “OWWWWWW stop!” when you try to shove it in them too abruptly. Most trans dudes don’t even have a (flesh/attached) dick and I will have screaming fights with anyone who says they’re “not really men.” My preference when being on the receiving end of dick is that it be medium-sized. And yet when I strap on a really big dildo I have this urge to strike macho-man poses in the mirror and tell an imaginary audience “Yeeeeah look at my GIANT COCK you want this GIANT COCK dontcha bitch?”

But because I consciously understand that big dicks aren’t synonymous with any kind of power or manhood, and because Mine also consciously understands this and also doesn’t genuinely believe that chicks hate sex or that men are all horndogs, our kinks aren’t hurting anyone. And so I’m trying to make my peace with it all.

It’s still weird, though, when I walk into the room wearing my biggest dick and Mine goes slack-jawed and weak in the knees. Part of me goes “Awwwww yeah” and another part is vaguely disgusted with both of us.

Well, I hate the toxic culture that gave me these kinks, but I do enjoy the kinks themselves – and since I’m exploring them consensually with someone who’s head is on straight, I’m gonna try to let myself have fun with it.

I can’t wait to get my brand new cock in the mail. :D

*I honestly never thought I’d find a guy willing to get fucked by that one! I figured I’d mostly just strap it on sometimes to scare the shit out of guys with the very sight of it. Or maybe a guy would suck it for me. But that’s about it. I mean it’s not stupid-crazy-novelty-gift huge, but it’s girthy. Especially to stick in someone’s ass.

**I have a hard time believing that thing would fit inside *anyone*. It’s is the size of my forearm (with the head being as girthy as the widest part of the forearm), and I am not a tiny person. And yes, I’ve seen porn where a woman was in a guy’s ass up to the elbow, but I’m guessing she was smaller than me and that she was bunching up her fingers into an aerodynamic shape. The head on this cock is so huge and blunt it’d be more like jacknifing your arm and shoving your elbow into someone.


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Twist ending!

I went to The Bunny’s place tonight and fucked his ass.

After the assfucking and him getting me off until I was a giggly puddle, he said “Let’s go hop in the shower, and then I’m gonna make you – “

- And I expected him to say “go home because I have to get up early for work,” but the rest of the sentence actually turned out to be -

” – Some nachos.”



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Speaking of being smitten by a good sense of humour, The Bunny and I were snuggling and talking the other day and the conversation turned to ancient cultures who were way more knowledgeable about science than one might have expected. The Bunny referred to Stonehenge as “Astrological Druid Funtime” and the phrase sounded to me like a cheesy commercial for a theme park or travelling exhibition, so I started riffing on it: “Astrological Druid Funtime! Astrological Druid Funtime! ASTROLOGICAL DRUID FUNTIME! Come on down! Stare at strategically placed piles of rocks! Rent one of our fabulous ceremonial robes!” or whatever.

I wasn’t sure whether The Bunny got where I was going with that, or just figured I was having a stroke. But then he added, “Sunday. Sunday. SUNDAY!!!!” and I knew he got it.

So that was awesome.

Also, Mine is clearly as infatuated by my weird brain as I am by his. Here is an excerpt from some texting the other day:

Me: I dreamed about you.

Mine: What kind of dream?

Me: You were going on the lam for some reason, and came through my kitchen window so we could have one last night together. Then I think I was arguing that I wanted to come with you. Then some of your friends were standing in my kitchen giving their opinions. And then it turned into an episode of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. Kinda.

Mine: I would take you and the kitties.

Me: We would of course have to dye the kitties different colours so they wouldn’t blow our cover. Bastardcat would have to wear coloured contacts.

Mine: That’s why I would take you. I never even thought about cat disguises. You’re smart. [Dog] would need a mustache. [Mine has a dog.]

Me: Yes! And maybe some pants. Nobody ever suspects the dog with the pants.

Mine: I love you so much. You had me giggling so much that my sister asked why. She said we’re both weird.

Me: I love you, too. You had me at “cute little dick snag.” :D

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NRE and sex thoughts

I am in the process of falling in love with Mine. He gives me stomach butterflies – even his texts give me stomach butterflies. I daydream about us maybe moving in together one day. I daydream about us being together years from now. I daydream about us celebrating a milestone anniversary by branding his ass.

But when I’m jerking off (which lately is suddenly a fair bit – my AWOL-for-years libido is making a reappearance for no discernible reason, yay!) my thoughts are all about The Bunny.

This is the first time I’ve had two ongoing concurrent sexual partners since being poly. It’s been interesting. I always figured that when it happened, my thoughts and feelings about everyone wouldn’t be exactly the same – I don’t think it’s possible to feel the exact same way about more than one person, anyway, whether the relationships are consecutive or concurrent, romantic or platonic or familial. But it’s still fascinating to observe the specific ways in which everything is settling into place.

A big factor in these particular discrepancies, I think, is that these days when I wank I think of sex, not violence. And PIV in particular is a mainstay of my fantasies, even though it’s not something I do that often in real life. Mine and I have had the most thrilling SM play of my entire life, but have, I think, only done PIV once – and he’s endowed enough that it was a bit of a struggle for me.

The Bunny, though – I adore his cock. It’s uncut and the perfect size and shape to stimulate me without (usually) chafing/irritating me. And even with me only craving PIV maybe once every five visits with him, we’ve still done it a fair bit in the grand scheme of things because we’ve been together for over a year. So I have a large selection of hot Bunny material in my spank bank.

Again. I’m not worried about the fact that I don’t (yet?) have wank fantasies about Mine. These are just observations that I’m writing down because they intrigue me.

Another intriguing thing: I already knew that when my libido gets riled up by one person, it tends to overflow and slosh onto everyone I see*. But apparently emotions do this, too. When I’m fresh off a visit from Mine and feeling all lovey-dovey and blissed out, I find myself feeling extra mushy toward The Bunny, too. I’ve almost blurted out “I love yous” to him when I was still afterglowing from Mine, and I’ve had to bite my tongue because The Bunny and I are not on an I-love-you basis.

* this was a source of great angst for my boyfriends, back when I was monogamous; the happier they made me sexually, the more of a heat-seeking flirt-missile I became with other guys. Which my partner at the time – whoever he was – would mistakenly interpret as me looking to replace him, and much accusation, crankiness, and defensiveness would ensue.

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Like water in the desert

Mine has sheepishly described himself as “touchy-feely” – meaning  both in the sense that he likes to snuggle and in the sense that he is a sayer of mushy things. I wonder why the sheepishness? Is it because society says men are supposed to be more aloof, or has he specifically been mocked for this by a woman he was dating?

As anyone who’s been following my posts for a while will know, I have been seriously lacking mushy words from partners for a rather long time. Seriously. The Bunny doesn’t talk about his feelings even in a clinical way unless I press him. Neither did The Pedant. Minx was good with the I-love-yous but perhaps not so great with compliments or making me feel desired – or maybe I’m just remembering the tail end of our relationship where things were going to shit. That was like two years ago anyway.

Today I texted Mine to say “I miss you.”

He responded with, “I miss you too. I can’t wait to touch and kiss you.”

I just…I can’t even with this. In the best possible way.


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