Destructive behavior at its best

Daniel and I would often kid around about how our relationship was on the wild side due to our both being sex addicts. We'd laugh about it and even throw around the term in a manner meant to mock one and other. The very beginning of our relationship was met with a super concentrated physical union. We were easily having sex three times a day at minimum and, for us, this seemed completely normal. Our nights out were always ended with intense kink. For the first month and a half or so we kept the sex to ourselves but eventually we stepped outside of the normal male/female relationship parameters and introduced exaggerated variations of our kink.

In a previous post of this blog, I mention that I was introduced to the group scene via a dude I met on Craigslist. Scouring the Internet was not that uncomfortable for me. I have, indeed, engaged in anonymous sex. This behavior, looking back, was super dangerous but while you're doing these things you don't stop and look around at the warning signs because for the most part, these actions are dictated by something much greater than the sheer desire to cum.

In the Six Feet Under snippet linked to this post, Brenda goes to see a therapist at the push of her friend Melissa who happens to be a sex worker. I chose to include this clip for a few reasons. At one point, Brenda mentions that she thinks she truly enjoys the euphoric feeling she gets from these random sexual encounters with strangers while she is in a monogamous relationship. Save Daniel, I have cheated on pretty much every boyfriend I've had. There was a point in my life that I was allowing my sexuality to dictate the bulk of my decisions. The idea of being in a relationship that was not centered on sex seemed nearly impossible. I was condoning my behavior by stating, simply, that my activities were a result of my desires. It's a rather simple equation; you want something, you get it. Deep down inside, I think I would often wonder whether or not my behavior was out of the norm and time and time again I would condone it by rationalizing the fact that I was simply acting on my raw needs. And, to a degree, this was true. I did have these desires and curiosities and my acting on them made me feel as if I was a step ahead of everyone that was allowing their repression to filter their desires. I was on top of the world in my mind.

Sometime over the last five years or so, I began to question these decisions. I wouldn't say that I was particularly ashamed of myself for having experimented but I am confident in exclaiming that the events took on an unsatisfying air after a while. They just became a bit substandard at their core and I tried, for a long time, to figure out what had changed and why my interest in these self-gratifying events began to dissipate. I still don't really have a firm answer on that.

When Daniel and I went to a group event, I found myself taking a moral inventory of the attendees. I was creating scenarios in my mind of all of their lives and the paths that brought these folks to the same room in which I was sitting. How fucking condescending of me. Of course, none of this was said aloud, but I certainly do remember having choice thoughts about two women in particular. One was the very youngish girl that had come along with a much older man. Her skin was as alabaster as a fucking porcelain doll and her hair as healthy as could be. I would guesstimate her at around 20, tops. I wondered what type of fucked up shit had happened in her childhood to bring her to this event on the arm of a 40+ bi-sexual male with whom she didn't seem to have very much in common. The other area I focused the remainder of my attention on was this socially awkward mid to late 30’s female. It was very evident via the weird small talk we had that she was a very self-doubting woman. She was on the heavier side, probably around a size 14-16, and while I didn’t find her particularly sexy or attractive, she was not an eye sore either. I studied her awkwardly work the room while she was fully clothed and later sat back to watch while she turned into this sex-beast who suddenly exhibited the confidence of Aphrodite. It was a transformation like none I'd ever seen before and all that continued to run through my mind was the sadness I felt for this woman who could only feel strong and beautiful when she was a sexual object. Now, far be it from me to cement any of these observations as real. My opinions are nothing but opinion - and a part of me plays with guilt for even having these types of thoughts but our minds are interesting creatures and they will go where they may. After the get together and my little thought session I turned the tables onto myself and played with the ideas of why I had found myself in this scene at one time. I still participate in these thoughts and I endlessly come up with the same answer: I use sex as a coping mechanism.

When the therapist in the clip above introduces the basic fundamentals of sex addiction she says some choice words. "It involves the sublimation of emotions that are too painful to address". My onset into the world of extreme casual sex came less than a year after the death of a man I was dating for five years intermittently and was sure would eventually be my husband. My entrance into the world of sexual activity at all, came at the ripe early age of 13 and I was unquestionably looking to escape the reality that was my home life. My parents are recovering drug addicts. The word recovering in the previous sentence might as well have a toggle switch because their lengths of clean time vary even to this day.

I have no hesitation declaring that the bulk of my sexual experience was gained via the attempt to not sit down in my own skin and deal with my life. This makes the most sense to me now because as I go through the motions of this break up with Daniel, I have never struggled more with feelings and I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that it is because instead of having a dick in my hand, I am actually allowing myself to go through this. I don't know if I would go so far as to say that I need to attend sex anonymous meetings - but I am positive in exclaiming that avoiding unhealthy sexual encounters is becoming a real struggle for me. I am starting to set myself up to jump back into this behavior pattern and I need to keep a watchful eye on it because this is NOT what I want to revert to. If for no other reason than to have a one-up on Daniel, I cannot go out like that. But, seriously, this has absolutely nothing to do with Daniel. This is about my healing process and I'm proud of myself for actually feeling the pain.

Three days after breaking up with me, I spotted Daniel on a strictly-sex site looking to hook up. He'd been staying at a friend’s place over in Washington Heights and I noticed that his 'location' on the site had been changed to reflect his current whereabouts. I was hurt, obviously, but more so I was actually a bit stunned that he would so quickly revert to this behavior. We'd discussed our sexual exploits and repeatedly he'd mentioned that he did not want to go back to being "that guy". Here I was in our apartment, drowning in a bed of tears, looking at the online profile of "that guy". It was heart breaking on a number of levels. Even now, nearly two months have gone by and I can't help but check his online status on that site every now and again. He's still active, still seeking hookups. I went and looked further today - and found that he now has a match.com account, too. I was joking with a friend of mine after having read Daniel's Match.com profile and said "He's going to make me go out and suck a dick, and I don't want to do that!". The real joke is that I don't know how untrue that statement is.

I have not had sex with anyone since Daniel which may honestly be the longest period I've been without intercourse in over 10 years. It's a conflicting feeling because a part of me is missing the intimacy that comes along with intercourse. I want to have someone’s hands running down my post-coital flesh. The issue with this is that anyone that I would fuck right now doesn't do the snuggle thing. It'd be strictly sex and I am just not 'there'. Reading Daniel's Match.com ad had me nearly in tears. It's my own fault for looking, obviously - but the Internet will test your limits if nothing else. I am just 'not ready' for the next steps and I suppose that means I'll need to hold off on getting my rocks off accordingly. This is difficult.

Rebounds can be a good thing. Rebounds deflect and I need deflection. I want to nerve up the energy and resources to build my own damn Match.com account - or at least to go out to a bar, or actually attend one of those meetup.com meetups. Why the fuck did I even join if I'm never going to attend an event? Pointless! I suppose my process is one that will work at its own pace. And, I need to make certain that I don't lose sight of the fact that I am not the one with active sex accounts looking to hook up. Typing that sentence prompted me to check his online status - what do you know? Online! I have to stop that, seriously.

The Trannies

When I think back on the various things that should have raised red-flags in the course of my relationship with Daniel a few instances come to mind.

There was the time when he told me that he didn't believe in a person having a soul. I obsessed over that comment for a good week and a half. How can you not believe in a persons soul? What, if not their soul, do you believe in? I have always been a pragmatic type of girl but when it comes to matters of the heart, soul, and conscience, I lose all sensibility. There is a certain something inside of us as human beings that keeps us ticking. There is a driving force, a sort of metronome of life if you will. It's there, all the time, and it is with that internal life force that you go about your daily existence in this world. This, my friends, is your soul. It drives you. It makes you who you are. We are not paper-doll-cutouts. We are living and breathing and it is our soul that carries us along! I am passionate about this - and when Daniel said that he didn't believe he really even had a soul, I felt a little sick inside. I bombarded him with philosophical questions and scenarios for the next 10 days or so until finally I was able to either convince him that believing in a soul is important - OR - he just said he could see my point of view to get me to shut the fuck up.

Then there was the time his Aunt, over dinner at the Time Warner Center, asked whether or not I cooked for him and he abruptly answered "No!" - Daniel is not the type of man who wants a woman at home slaving behind a hot stove in order to have a meal ready upon his arrival. Actually, I think that type of thing turns him off. God forbid a woman wants to take care of her man!! Amazing what having unavailable parents will do to a man. Anyway, I get that he doesn't necessarily look at that as a very admirable quality in a woman but society definitely does and I was mortified. The truth is that just that very week I had tried my hand at a bunch of different recipes. All were altered to befit the limited diet he has as a result various food allergies. It may sound stupid but I put a lot of love and care into doing the domestic type stuff and for it to be denied by him really hurt. I, somewhat immediately, jumped in and said "what do you mean, no?!" - We turned the situation into a joke but it was belittling.

Last, but certainly not least in the bullet-list of red-flag raising moments was the night we spent with the two Trannies in a dungeon basement in Brooklyn.

You can't make this shit up.

They were both of some sort of third-world Latin lineage. One was much more attractive than the other. She came in at around 5'10 inches tall with a decent body, small natural breasts as a result of her hormone therapy, and still packed a decent package. Somehow in the pretty small sized dungeon that sits underneath a widely popular venue in the Park Slope area, I had lost Daniel for all of a minute and a half. When I finally stumbled into a cubby-hole and found him, it was in their company.

Initially I was confused. I couldn't figure out how in the blink of an eye I had actually lost him. (funny, looks like I am asking myself that same question yet again in a completely different fashion) - The way that this place is set-up makes it nearly impossible to lose people. There are these small wooden booth like areas that are positioned in a mish-mashed labyrinth. One booth basically backs the next and each of these semi-private spaces has glory and peek holes with an approximate 3" diameter sitting on the bottom and top of the "walls". Some have small doors - and others just a framed out space where a door would otherwise serve a purpose. You know, that is if the whole purpose of being at this place wasn't to have others watch/join you.

There are a few larger spaces, namely in the back and front of the basement space. The front private space is marked with clear signage indicating it's Female and Transexual friendly only. Inside of this private space there is a sex swing and a few other fun items to make your stay more enjoyable. I found it to be a bit too butch heavy for my liking and didn't spend a lot of time in there. The large space in the back is where the real fun happens. There is a queen-ish sized bed that seems to always get a fair amount of play. It's anchored in the far left hand corner of the square room. In the immediate foreground to the bed is a fun cross that I, unfortunately, never got to experience. There are multiple flat screens playing various genre of porn strewn through out the space. In the far right hand corner of the same room sits a hanging sex swing that was ALWAYS occupied by some way too heavy dude that seemed to want to put the weight limitations of an anchored sex swing to the test. There are some suspended benches for sitting and viewing purposes, a private caged area that has an enclosed cross and spanking bench, and a dog cage for your every day, often overlooked, Fido fantasies. I have to give it up to the folks that run this event called SPAM; they really got it all covered from a "need" perspective. Strewn about the venue are condom dispensers, containers full of individually packaged servings of lube, handy wipes, and paper towels for easy clean-up. They even have small chocolatey goodness in the form of ho-hos! How apropos.

There are three reasons I like this event:

1) It's in Park Slope and doesn't require my taking the train into Manhattan just to take the train back into Brooklyn (read: Williamsburg or Bushwick). There are not enough progressive events, never mind progressive sex events, in Brooklyn. Also, I don't generally consider Williamsburg Brooklyn. Hipsters went and fucked it all up for me.

2) The environment provided by the folks that run this party is clean, safe, and sex positive. There is something to be said for an event that encourages a somewhat 70 year old tranny-ish girdle wearing grandpa to get his shit off. A lot of people would have been turned off by seeing that. I'm not a lot of people and if anything I thought it was heart warming.

3) There is a mandatory pants check at the door. This sounds like exactly what it is. After you come through the entrance and confirm with the host that you are aware this party is queer, you take a walk down a steep flight of steps and stop at the coat-check. This is where you remove your pants and whatever other articles of clothing you want to check and you exchange them for a ticket. What a wonderful way to promote people getting naked; make it mandatory.

After I found my whereabouts and looked into Daniel's occupied cubby hole, I stopped for a second and took it all in. I stood for bit and watched him. Daniel was looking at me with a crooked smile. I was certainly interested in what was going on and there was a fair amount of lust running through my veins but deep down I think I was genuinely taken aback and I'm sure my face showed that. Daniel cocked his head back to indicate I should join them. So, I did. "Is this your girlfriend"? the pretty one asked. We both responded and smiled at her. It was a good night.

A little while later, our friend took a seat next to us as we were taking in the action of another scene. She and I began to chat about toys and the likes. We discussed her topping. She told me it didn't happen very often but that when it did her equipment handled it. We would come to see her at a few future parties but the fun of that evening was a single occurrence.

Since our breakup, Spam has held one party. I don't see myself ever going back there but who knows what the future holds. I am sure, however, that Daniel and Miss Pretty will have their fun once again.

Here's where things get gay..

I'm writing this post from inside the Housing Works Bookstore and Cafe which is one of NYC's leading volunteer run bookstores. The proceeds of the store directly benefit AIDS and HIV. Obviously, there is a large gay community that frequents this establishment. Thank you, Housing Works, for continuing to provide much needed funds to the research and development of medical advancements for HIV/AIDS.

How does this tie into anything I am discussing with you all? Well, I guess it does and it doesn't. Firstly, I thought the bookstore should be given a shout out. Free Wifi - Holla. Secondly, I've been thinking of a way to introduce the fact that Daniel is a bi-sexual male and I couldn't figure out a good introduction to the topic. Enter Housing Works and here we are.

Daniel and I had been dating for less than a month when I mentioned that, in jest, a gay friend of mine asked about whether or not he liked boys. Daniel's response was a shy and whispered "well, that depends on how drunk I am". I took it for what it was worth - and a short time thereafter Daniel came 'out' to me about his being full-on bi-sexual, no alcohol influence required. For whatever reason, I seem to attract men who have homosexual tendencies. I suppose it could be that I am a very accepting woman? It could also be that I am as open sexually as almost anyone you're going to meet. Chances are that if it doesn't involve animals, children, or an expressed non-consent, I have tried it and probably liked it. That said, who am I to throw stones? Daniel and I discussed his history with men and at first, I have to admit, I was pretty turned on. I suppose it's a rarity, but I kind of get off on watching two boys make out and take things to the next level. I only know a handful of other women with whom this is cool, so yeah - I suppose it's a rarity.

The topic of Daniel's tendencies with men opened up the discussion to other areas of sexuality as well. I admitted that I used to be a pretty popular sex-blogger and had various ties to the whole sex-blog community. Without compromising my identity at this point, I'll say that I did have my fun within Jefferson's world of onelifetaketwo.com. Jefferson and I have experienced everything from going on a very standard boy/girl date to the movies, to my visiting his house on an impromptu occasion to witness a hot smaller sized BBW experience her very first gangbang. Wait, our movie date was actually to check out Kinsey. Is that standard? Either way, there's a history there that cannot and should not be ignored. I have a bit of a sordid past, readers - and you can bet your ass that that past has a lot to do with the intentions of my future.

Even though I asked him not to go looking on various Internet archive sites, about a month or so into our dating, Daniel couldn't help himself and he dug up some of my old scribbles. He familiarized himself with my other - other alter ego. He got to know her - and in doing so, he forced himself to almost need to experience the same things that she had. You see, Daniel had always wanted to experience these group-sex events. He shared with me that he had tried, to no avail, via various Craigslist postings to get himself invited to group happenings. I suppose it's more difficult to find yourself invited to these events when you're not a willing female? I never had that problem. heh. -

After relentless pushing from his end, I contacted the powers that be and arranged for he and I to attend a thing happening in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. I hadn't been to any type of group event in well over a year, maybe even two, at that point. I just sort of woke up one day and decided that this wasn't for me. I got into the scene via this dude that I had met on, where else?, Craigslist. I remember a time where my sexuality really dominated my thoughts and I went with it. I don't regret having experienced a lot of the things I did. I don't regret having fed the desires that I had that may seem very abnormal to some - but felt very natural to me. I do, however, regret having got caught up in the scene and mistaking the groups with whom I was sharing these outrageous sexual encounters for an intimate setting/foundation. There is a fine line between sexual fantasy and emotional intimacy and as I get older I am beginning to see that line crystal-clear. But, I digress. - We went to this party at this chick's house in Fort Greene. Jefferson was helping her throw her first event and she seemed pretty nervous about the execution. It was rather cute, actually.

We arrived early - and there were only a few bodies there. The way these things generally work is that the earlier part of the evening is spent fully clothed (for the most part) having small talk and noshing on whatever snacks are provided. Sounds kind of nice, doesn't it? It actually is, in a weird way? Anyway, we made chit-chat with some of the other folks there. There was the hostess, Jefferson, a very-youngish girl he'd brought with a voice that was SUPER annoying and what I suspected to be exaggerated to up play the fact that she was a young girl. This was a MAJOR turn off for me. So, yeah - all of those folks and one cute young black boy. As the night grew on, more folks arrived and at some point in which I don't really remember, clothes came off and people began to make their way toward the bedroom. Some of these events require that any play happen in designated rooms and others are a bit more relaxed in terms of where you do your thing. This particular party was the latter and at various points throughout the evening there were people doing their groove-thing all about the place. This is real deal porno type shit happening in the flesh - in front of your eyes. It's pretty wild, to say the least. I had decided before our even going out to the event that I wasn't going to be participating in anything aside from fun with Daniel. I really am over the casual-sex with various anonymous partners thing and I wasn't going to jump back into it because Daniel felt he needed to. I did, however, understand the desires he was having and I figured - fuck it, what can it hurt to support his sexual curiosities? And so, Daniel was pretty much free to do his thing - with the exception of fucking other women. Hey man, what's fair is fair. I wasn't ready for that just yet.

Sex party sheets donned the bed and an air mattress type of device lined the floor. There was also a desk that served as a decent perch for viewing purposes. I was approached a bunch but I stayed true to my decision to not play outside of the relationship. Throughout the evening, I think Daniel had his fun with two boys, one girl, and got to do his share of masturbating while watching various other scenes. There were crops, huge dildos, and if I remember correctly this was the night I met Mr. Nuscious who was rocking some serious garters and took a fist to the ass like a champ. I liked him, instantly, and we became sort of fast friends, via IMs at least. I need to reach out to him! The way the scenes came to be were all sort of random. At one point, this heavily tattooed and bearded boy came up to us while we were making out and asked whether or not he could join in on the kissing. I wasn't really feeling the mountain man look he had going but Daniel had no objections and I took a step to the side to watch the man who I was confident would eventually become my husband make out with a bearded boy in boxer briefs. I took no issue with this at all. Anyone that I've shared that with often has to hold back their vicious comments. I understand - but, I am all about sexual exploration and if this was an activity that Daniel felt he needed or wanted to participate in, I'd rather be there and be a part of it than be one of the many women whose husbands are off sucking cock while they're home breastfeeding the newborn. Think it doesn't happen? Think again.

I watched Daniel make out with bearded mountain man, suck the cock of a aforementioned cutie black boy, finger-bang the hostess, and eventually have his orgasm at the hand of Mr. Beard. There was a point in the evening that I participated with Daniel by going down on him amidst the group. Somewhere in this time, comments had been made by Jefferson who is obviously a former lover. I can't remember what they were exactly but something about the dominant nature of his comments made Daniel feel uncomfortable. I felt like saying "Seriously? This is what you're going to get jealous over, Daniel? Your fucking mouth was just wrapped around another man’s penis and I'm OK with it" - Either way, I knew where my loyalty was supposed to be and the situation became pretty uncomfortable for me. I suggested we leave - and that was met with resistance. Daniel had "come to get off and he hadn't gotten off yet". Yes, that's a quote. I probably should've just up and left, but I went and had a seat in the living room where things were a bit less wild.

I had shared various concerns with him prior to going to this event. I felt we weren't remotely strong enough for this yet. We were only together, what? - a month and a half or so? I was concerned that he wasn't going to be able to separate his personal desires from those of which may or may not be good for a relationship. Couples attending sex parties together have to have a serious bond. I have seen it - and it really can be quite beautiful, but I am a firm believer in the fact that all other facets of your relationship need to be locked down if you're going to go putting other people’s genitalia in your mouth and the likes. I believe that it is certainly possible to separate sex from love - but when you involve another person you better be sure that you are both on the same page. Daniel and I didn't even know each other yet. This event was a mistake.

Once I had calmed down some, I joined the bedroom situation to check in on what was happening. I'm not sure of the exact chain of events but I do know that Daniel had lost his erection at some point and this caused him a bunch of turmoil and discomfort. This was a regular thing - not only at sex parties - but even at home just amongst us two. When I say a regular thing, I don't mean his losing his erections. I mean, I guess I do mean that, but I don't mean it to come out in a negative way. Men lose erections. It happens. I'm not at all being judgmental here. What I am referring to is his discomfort with it happening. The very last fight we had as boyfriend and girlfriend was loosely surrounded by Daniel losing his erection. After doing so, he apologized to me for being "fucking pathetic". Daniel, if you ever read this... you have to chill. It happens - it's not the end of the world and by contributing to the thoughts that you're pathetic and the likes, you're only fueling the fire thus causing the smolder, so to speak.

Ok - fast forward to the orgasm part of the evening. Daniel's eventual orgasm was via a half blow job / half hand job from the bearded dude. Daniel came all over this poor girl’s floor. All I could think was 'ew - how rude-'.. See? I really am over the group-sex thing. This should've been a situation that made me feel hot and instead I am all thinking about whether or not the quicker picker upper was going to work for the huge load he'd blown all over the floor. Shortly after Daniel got his rocks off, we set off for my apartment.

I cried on the way home - and explained to him that when I asked him to leave it wasn't because I was looking out for his best interest and that regardless of what the reason behind my asking it should have been accepted and executed rather than debated. Daniel punched the steering wheel a bunch of times - and for the next few months talked only about how sex-parties could be a lot more fun if you weren't limited by your partner’s opinions - or, for lack of a better word, rules. I suppose that's true to an extent, but then - maybe this is why you shouldn't go trying to create your own sexual history based on that of your lovers past that you excavated without consent.

This is also a lesson learned for me - and I can almost guarantee you that moving forward whomever it is I do wind up with will not be privy to my complete sexual history.

It's pretty obvious when you meet me, via my appearance and my general demeanor, that I am a sexually charged woman but the extent of my experience is not something I am going to continue to be so lucid about. That sort of bothers me and in a weird way I kind of feel like I am denying a part of who I am. Then again, in the interest of personal growth and moving forward, maybe I'm not really that girl anymore at all?