Doodle Bug (minikin) wrote,
Doodle Bug

Not just a bookmark, or yes Hippychicx, this is (finally) about you

I'm caught up on LJ. for now.

I've got email to further process in my head, and then compose replies.

But I haven't written. And there's stuff to write about.

I am writing in a lull, a state of flux. I don't know where this is going, there is a big question mark. Even if I'd been caught up to the point of being able to write, I wouldn't have written this weekend, because there was checking in and reconnecting to do before raving in my journal about a new relationship.

I mean, that entry would have been most appropriately entitled "NRE NRE NRE" remembering that said acronym is pronounced like the alarming sound effect from the shower scene in Psycho.

And now by the time I can write, things are complicated and on hold, pending talking.

Talking to her mother.

Okay, let's repeat that last phrase and parse it.

Her Mother.


Oh yeah, I identify as bi. I've got "girlfriends". Many of whom I've been sexual with at some point, none of whom I'm actively sexual with now. I've got my Cinder, who I dearly love, but with whom I only ever had sex that once, and never pushed for it again, even after she decided that maybe she really was a sexual being, after all. I love her dearly and think of her as one of my significant relationships. I would drop everything to ride in a big-ass truck to CA with the worst ear infection I've had since I was a child, because, well, how else was she going to be able to move so damn far away from me?

Okay, still getting over the first PWP without Cinder, and astounded that she actually called me when I was thinking about her on Monday.

Oh wait, but this isn't really about old relationships.

There's this young woman. With whom I'm totally infatuated. With whom I got to spend time together at the PWP. Whom I kissed. She's turned my head and put me in a tizzy, and reminded me that girly sex is just so cool. Not that we really did anything significantly beyond kissing, but well, as sex goes, I work differently. The energy exchange was amazing. The ease of intimacy was startling.

Her Mother.


So, did I mention young woman? I know her mom. I'm friendly with her mom. We're not best buds, but we know each other, we like each other, we see each other socially in the local poly community. I've opened my home to a younger daughter, for a week each summer for the last three years. So that she could work in Farmer's stables.

And, hey, here's a shock. Her mom is not happy. I'd say freaked, but I don't know that to be true. Concerned, I know for positive. But all of this is through third parties.

I'm in limbo. I'm waiting to talk to J. about this. I don't know if she can be comfortable with ANYTHING. Heck, I'm assuming kissing and being alone together will get taken off the boards entirely. But what I'm really really afraid of, is some big "stay away from my daughter" pronouncement. Cause, well, then I'd have to. I couldn't hurt a friend that way. Hell, I really don't think I could manage a relationship with anyone that was explicitly forbidden by their parent.

Hippychicx is only 18. No matter what kind of "now you are an adult" kind of pronouncement that might imply, it's still very young. (Okay, so I'm running out of hyperbolic adverbs.) I'm 23 years older than she is. I've been married 22 years.

But oh, gosh, she touched me. Reached right inside me, through all the layers of mild-mannered-housewife, middle-aged-woman exterior.

I want to be exciting and giddy and all those other positive emotional states. I find myself self-questioning, worried and anxious.

The checking-in thing happened. After all, I've already got a wife, even if she is straight, and maybe because that means we don't generally do a lot of sexually-charged after-glow pillow talk, that I'm not in the habit of successfully telling my wife how much I love her. And not in the habit of thinking about how she feels about the possibility of a new relationship for me, especially with another woman.

Can you actually read the letters forming idiot on my forehead?

And it doesn't help on the complication scale that my Master, my second husband, Wolf, is also in the early beginnings of something with Hippychicx.

See, winter bowling is over, school is almost out and the PWP is past. I obviously NEED a certain level of complication in my life to exist.

But oh! Her skin is so soft. Her smile is so contagious. And to see her hips sway....

mmm. The her isn't defined above. I'm still recovering from being trashed by a last-minute-arranged, quickie trip to Louisville. Where I had some awesome reconnection time with my wife. I steadfastly promise myself that I will so totally respect her straightness...

Hippychicx has got my hormones all woken up and interested and seeing the world afresh again.

Don't know if we get to do anything.

Don't know if J sets boundaries and allows this, whether I'll get shit, none-the-less, from The Rest of the World.

But oh, I still do feel Quite Emphatically Alive.

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