Don’t Be My Valentine

I don’t do Valentines day.

Certainly I have done in the past. When Perrin and I were first together we went through the usual routine; cards, presents, dinner. Each year though it became harder to be ‘more romantic’ than the last and let’s face it, nobody wants to be accused of being less romantic than they used to be.

Humpty Dumpty had the right idea.

“To be sure I was!” Humpty Dumpty said gaily, as she turned it round for him. “I thought it looked a little queer. As I was saying, that seems to be done right—-though I haven’t time to look it over thoroughly just now—-and that shows that there are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents—-”

“Certainly,” said Alice.

“And only one for birthday presents, you know. There’s glory for you!”.

It’s the everyday love that really counts. It’s the coffee which Perrin gets out of bed to make for me every morning which means so much, not champagne once a year. (We do drink champagne rather more often than that it’s true). It’s the hugs and support when life is tough. It’s the laughing with me, the holding hands, the adventures planned and enjoyed together, and the confidence he gives me to explore on my own.

The same is true for the other special people in my life too. It’s the time they take to spend with me that matters. It’s the hugs they send when I’m feeling down, even though they can’t be there in person. It’s the smile when we meet, and the kiss when we part.

By the same token, if they don’t already know how I feel then I have failed them. No cards and flowers can help on one day a year if they don’t feel loved already.

The question is not “how do I tell them I love them today”, but “did I show them how I felt yesterday, and how can I show them tomorrow”?

Not that anybody but Perrin would consider me a Valentine if I did do it, of course, but I hope the people I care for know who they are all the same.

Making Sense of It

Things have been pretty quiet on the blog and twitter lately. The reason for that of course, is that things have been busy in the real world.

Over the past week there has been a serious explosion of emotional experiences, each different, each fanning out in a different direction. If you imagine one of those domino toppling layouts you’ll probably get the idea. Lots of little pieces, each one individually hardly noticeable, combining together to form a major emotional disruption.

This has been followed inevitably by an attempt to reach resolution. I seem to have been working backwards (perhaps that is the only way to reset dominoes) , tackling one set of feelings before moving on to the next. I’m not quite done yet. And I won’t sleep soundly until I am.

Each problem is unique. A different problem, a different solution. Some emotional, some practical.  Yet, in each case, I’m attempting to process what has happened, where I am, and how I feel about it.

Right now polyamory just seems like a way to hurt in lots of directions at once.

The Other Side

A week ago, if you had asked me if I had a domme side, I would have said no.

My fantasies have always been submissive ones. I have occasionally considered the dominant’s point of view, but would have said I was doing it for the intellectual challenge of considering that point of view, rather from a desire to fill that role.

In the last week it occurred to me to ask myself whether I have a dominant side. I imagined myself, in some theoretical club, with a theoretical submissive at my feet, and quite honestly felt slightly sick at the prospect. To be fair though, that’s a strange image to choose. I have almost no experience of public play at all, and have never been to a kinky club, even as a submissive, so trying to put myself in an unknown place in an unfamiliar role is bound to be difficult. Perhaps the problem, is that I don’t know what having a dominant side would mean.

Fast forward then, to a perfectly lovely social evening, with some lovely kinky people. I had persuaded a gentlemen of my acquaintance to attend, and had lured him there with the (sincere) promise that I would look after him, and not abandon him in a room full of strange people!

Starting out then, I felt a definite sense of responsibility. A need to make sure that his evening was rewarding and pleasurable. As we talked and flirted together I saw his subtle reactions to my more jokingly assertive comments, and felt a certain thrill at his enjoyment. I began to see the appeal of control, the creation of something special, the joy of being the artist rather than the clay.

I also think that I realised a difference in me between domme and sadist. I don’t think I would much enjoy hurting someone; but control, shaping someone’s pleasure, there’s a real kick there. Of course, sometimes pleasure is pain…it’s not a binary choice.

I am still inherently submissive, and my relationship with Perrin exists within that dynamic. Yet each relationship you have creates its own dynamic, unique to the two people involved. I certainly have a domme side, if only a tiny one. I think it might be rather fun for that to get out and play a bit more.


So I’ve been thinking about what attracts me to people. It’s not primarily physical appearance, although a fairly regular set of features is admittedly an advantage. Instead I find myself attracted to people primarily by their behaviour and personality.

Certainly, I have a distinct weakness for ‘gentlemen’. It goes against my upbringing, but open the car door for me, or take my coat, and I will certainly warm to someone.
That behaviour of course, can easily be learned. I’ll point out here that I sincerely hope that someone is teaching the young men of today these skills, because they would be sorely missed if they died out.

Even more attractive than those traits though, are some classic gentlemanly virtues.
Honesty is certainly important to me. The ability to believe what someone says, to trust them to keep their promises. With that also I think, comes integrity. I realise how much I admire people who are true to themselves, even in the face of difficulties.
Patience is another characteristic I appreciate, twinned I think with tenacity. This is something I struggle with myself, finding it far too easy to give up on things.
Compassion and friendship are also something I value enormously. Someone who stands by their friends, who is there for them when they need help, is someone I want to be friends with.

Although I say gentlemanly virtues, in the interests of equality I should add that those virtues can certainly be held by women as well, and are equally as admirable when found there.

Of course, it can be delightful too, when the ‘gentleman’ turns out to have a wicked side, but that’s another subject entirely.


I recently asked a lovely young lady for a date (hello, if you are reading this!). Sadly it was declined, but it got me thinking about how my views on dates have changed since my youth.

I last seriously dated in my university days, back in 199*mumble*. The (few) dates I had back then seemed to be much more a prelude to, shall we say, bedroom activities. They were nice, involved lots of snogging, and not that much talking.

Oddly, they, almost exclusively ended up in long-term relationships, despite this!

I’ve been married now for ten years, to the lovely Caitlin, who I have never dated at all. Due to various circumstances, related earlier in this blog, she went from being friend who I was in love with (and married to someone else), to girlfriend I was living with, with no time for dates in between.

My desires for a date have most definitely changed. The urgent, “lets get somewhere private” has definitely receded, and I’m now very much looking for an evening of flirty, interesting conversation, good food and wine, and above all, both parties enjoying an evening out.

And, for a first date, I’d not be wanting anything else to happen either. Something my full-of-hormones 18 year old self would have trouble understanding.

I’ve not asked many people for a date, and only two since in the last 12 years. I think I need some practice.

Lovers, Old and New

Last night, Caitlin and I were lying in bed cuddling and talking about the recent changes in our lives. Caitlin is forming a relationship with another man, and we started to discuss what that would be like.

Talking about her going out with him turned me on immensely, and it was not long before we were making love. At this point I started thinking about the beginnings of my relationship with Amy. The particular moment is when I first spent the night with her alone. It was an occasion we had been waiting for and anticipating for some time, and we had some amazing sex. It was a night I am not likely to forget!

Making love to Caitlin, I shared my thoughts with her. I know that it may seem odd to some people reading this, but sharing feelings about making love to someone else during sex is not something that we have a problem with.

On that night, back in the summer, when Amy and I were entwined, Caitlin was not in my thoughts. Amy and I shared an amazing moment of passion, and during that, speaking for myself, my thoughts were entirely with her. I had some very nice thoughts of Caitlin later, though. 🙂

Relating this to Caitlin, I wanted her to understand that when her new man was making love to her, as I was then, his cock between her legs, her arms around him, it is entirely fine, and, indeed, proper, to not be thinking of me, and, instead, enjoying that special moment of sharing your body with another. Get lost in the passion, and not feel guilt, because I wholeheartedly approve.

With these thoughts of passion with others, firmly in our heads, we both had an amazing shared orgasm.


So this post on Actuaria’s blog inspired me to dust off something I’d started writing a long while ago and see where it went.

I’ve been thinking about the kinds of relationships that people have; and I can see four distinct kinds.

Firstly there are friends. These are the people you’d want to go over and talk to at a party. You have something in common and enjoy sharing it.

Then there are partners (boyfriend/girlfriend). These are the people you’d take to the party. There’s a level of emotional and practical commitment, expectations on both sides.

Then there are lovers. These are the people you’d have sex with after the party (or during it; it depends on the party). I think this involves more than just kissing, and some level of continuation. One night stands are not a relationship after all.

Then there are confidantes. These are the people you can tell about having sex at the party! These are the people you can trust with anything, who will listen and accept you for who you are.

In the past relationships have generally seemed to grow gradually from friend to partner to lover to confidante. I think I’m happiest with that last stage when someone is both lover and confidante. It is very rewarding in lots of ways. At this point though they usually dump you (perhaps telling them about the sex at the party was a bad idea)!
My relationship with Perrin was quite different. We went from friends to confidantes to lovers to partners. I guess it says something about someone when you can really trust them so early on.

Over the past few months I’ve been privileged to explore some other relationships, which also don’t necessarily follow the standard pattern. I can certainly see places in my life for people who fit into any of the above categories in various combinations and I value them all.

I’ve come to realise though, what is most important to me, is the confidante, someone I can be honest and open with, and who is comfortable being open and honest with me. There is no greater treasure than that.