Our arrangement, to recap, is that my wife has sex with a friend of ours but I do not necessarily go out and have sex with other women. You may ask, how is that fair to me? It’s simple. I get off on my wife having sex with other men. She doesn’t get off on me having sex with other women. Or anyone else.
This is where the DADT part of our arrangement occurs. Yes, my wife knows I’m bi. No, it is not a turn on for her. I know there are a handful of you female readers who would kill to watch a husband or boyfriend engage in some bi play. If I had realized I was bi when I married my wife, that probably would have been something I insisted on. You know, a wife who could get into watching me with another guy from time to time.
But yes, my wife knows I’m bi and she does know that I’ve had encounters with other guys. She even knows a few of them. She just doesn’t want the details, though she has asked a few times. I can tell when she is getting uncomfortable with the details so I usually cut short with, “we jacked each other”.
In other news, I’ve been going through some really weird stuff recently. I know it isn’t helpful for those of you attempting to diagnose my issues if I can’t share all the details, but in short, I experienced a seemingly minor bash to my head. It was a goofy slip and fall on my tile floor that seemed funny in the moment but felt like hell the next day.
Not long after, another similar fall. I’ve been seen by a doctor and all that but in spite of the clean bill of health, I feel different. I’ve found myself to be in a bad mood. Not depressed, mind you, but I find myself in a state of being pissed off at things that wouldn’t normally give me a second notice.
I am historically the most easy going, friendly guy ever. Honest. Lately, I feel like I’ve been a dick. Not to my wife per se, but just in general. Like finding myself in a moment that requires some patience yet feeling my blood begin to boil. I don't act out in anti-social ways, breaking things or causing a scene, but I have noticed more of those heavy sighs and rolled eyeballs the way a 12 year-old girl might respond to a mother.
This all could be a function of me just getting older, more forgetful, more disgusted with the world around me. Or I could have knocked something loose when I fell and hit my noggin. I’m going to bring it up to my doctor. But the question is, do any of you go through phases of just being mad? This is a new thing for me.
If that wasn't strange enough, I need to take you back a few weeks ago to this post about my friend Co-Worker Rick. If you missed it, the cautionary tale was that you should delete all our old e-mails because you could die unexpectedly and your kids might see e-mails you wish they hadn't.
Things may not have been as I first thought. Yes, the daughter has the e-mails, yes she has seen the videos and pictures Rick sent me of his girlfriends and conquests. Of course she saw pics of my wife's boobs, though in fairness, they may have been pics my wife sent him (she would do that from time to time).
No, the big news here is that Rick had showed his daughter. Before you totally freak, again, we are talking an adult aged daughter her. But still, gross.
Between conversations with the daughter (it was like pulling teeth before she would really open up about it all) and the ex-live-in girlfriend who knew it all, it turned out that Rick would get very loose-lipped during bar conversations with his daughter. He used her as someone to lean on. I get that, but to show your daughter a video of you engaged in sex acts? I'm sorry, call me a prude...
Once this all came out and it was no longer me feeling bad that my friend had BURDENED his daughter with finding his naughty e-mails after he died, but instead that he was that open with her before he died, I felt a little queasy.
Besides the extreme lack of talent, grammatical skills and self-motivation, the reason I've never attempted to write professionally about this lifestyle is that I haven't been able to imagine the moment my kids would read about it. My kids who are adults and are clearly their own sexual beings. I hate that our society has made all this taboo, but frankly, as open as I am about these things with strangers on the Internet or people I meet, I just don't see the value in sharing my sexual story with my kids.
I have been so jealous of those brilliant writers and podcasters who can just open up knowing that their parents, siblings and children will know it all. Granted, this is why I am out as bi to most people I know, but not my kids, siblings or parents. Maybe I'm the problem.
When I talked with Rick's daughter about this she just laughed it off. She said it wasn't like she didn't hear him having sex with his conquests or live-in girlfriends, so why shouldn't she talk to him about it afterwards? I'm both horrified and jealous. But I just don't think I'll ever sit down with my kids and say, "Wow, you should have seen the cum on mom's tits and how I licked it off."