California Reaming - A Woman's Adventures In Polyamory

Last time I began describing a trip my partner and I took recently to NY city. The subject of my wanting to have other male sexual partners came up on our first night. I had not intended it, but various things conspired that day to make me pretty cranky. Like the long plane flight, my first one in quite a while. I realize I do not travel as well as I once did. Getting into Manhattan from JFK was a hassle too, and once I landed at the Carlton Arms I was not sure I wanted to stay. The place was a little too funky, I thought, even though I had travelled everywhere via youth hostels when I was younger.

Part of why the Carlton is so cheap is that a) there is no TV in the rooms, and b) you share a bath/showers down the hall. I turned on the smaller shower and promptly pulled the knob off, which nearly fell and landed directly on my big toe. Not a good omen. I resolved I would persuade D to move us somewhere else in the a.m. The room we had, in spite of the elaborate art work, was small and narrow, barely functional. You get a full bed, a sink, a chair, a closet.

So all this conspired to put me into a funk of sorts. To add to my paltry pile of woes, I had to scope out the neighborhood to find a liquor store, get some drinks for us, some ice, and D always likes a ton of water wherever he stays.

We aired everything out that we each had to say. This is a prerequisite for us. We try to fully say everything as fully as we intended to say it. Get it all out there. It gets intense, we both get highly emotional. Often D cries. He is far more the female player in this situation, I suppose I am closer to the male.

I am pretty convinced that polyamory will inevitably bring me back to D. Because I will always, consciously or not, be making comparisons. I do already, and D always comes out way ahead of the pack. Once couples can tune into this fact of life, there is no need for jealousy. We cross our (briefly) troubled waters, D is resolved that he wants me to enjoy myself, he is reaffirmed in my belief and connection to him. It is very satisfying to both of us that our relationship is strong enough to weather these events. Now we can really start to enjoy our trip. And we do.

We were so worked up with the discussion that the thought of having sex afterwards was kind of ephemeral at first. Nebulous on the one hand, more insistent on the other.

But those pandas. We couldn't resist attempting, and attempt we did. It took us a long while, surprising for us, we tend not to like long bouts of sex. But I was so keyed up I had a terrible time trying to focus my mind. But I persisted, and he persisted, and it was intense when we both finally came.

Then we hang out some more, talking like crazy as usual. The fleet's in town, whose fleet we don't know. A fleet is a fleet is a fleet. Noises of raucous revelry permeate the Carlton from a bar somewhere close by. We celebrate along with the drunken sailors, in abstentia, smoking some more pot afterwards and mixing ourselves another drink.

New York state's alcohol laws, for us native Californians, are a complete joke. You can't walk into the rather new Whole Foods in Manhattan and buy your fine wine along with your food. You have to make ANOTHER trip to find a liquor store. What's that all about, I asked myself. I thought the world believed now in the virtues of One-Stop Shopping.

Blue laws, I believe they call these. To go with their blue balls one supposes.

You realize with discoveries like this that America, the east coast of America that is, was settled by Puritans. It shows. We all know too how the state's drug laws have been enforced over the years. Draconian is usually the word that springs to mind. Even with marijuana. We savor every toke as we rant and rave about this.

But, on the other hand, you can find the most disgusting porn imaginable in New York City. What's THAT all about? It's a very schizoid phenomenom.

D told me that when he was growing up a feral youth in Brooklyn, he would go to porno theaters where you could whack off. That was the whole point, no? So when he got to Los Angeles some years later, he was very surprised at how the porn theaters get the guys all worked up, but then you aren't allowed to whack off. That's a no-no. It made no sense at all to D.

Makes you wonder, if the two coasts are dickering about stuff like this, what do you suppose is going on in the areas in between?

We all partake of a collective shudder.

D and I take a walk into Chelsea to buy some porn. His favorite store has amazing porn, including one DVD entitled "The Fantastic Goat." Let your mind roam free on that movie, I think you can seuss out where the plot goes. I feel confident there's a female involved there, somewhere.

The store is run by Pakis, or maybe they are Indians. D heads off to explore the aisles, and I do the same. I am trying to find some good girlie porn.

What is my standard for good girlie porn? I don't know, I haven't seen much of it at all, that's good anyway. But I like normal looking women, not some blonde bimbo freak with outrageously phony boobs who's about as lesbian as my mother. European porn has a lot of women who look like that. Normal, that is. The people in their films always seem to be having a good time. I do like a certain level of production values. I especially like to see strap-on play, being rather recently arrived at that form of play myself. Mostly I like to feel some heat, I like to see people having fun of all sorts and connecting as if they enjoyed each other. Men, women, we love it all.

When D is on the road, he often sends me pictures of interesting looking women he finds online. In compromising situations. He especially loves the older women collections. I was the first older woman D had ever been involved with. There is a fourteen year difference between us. He says now I have absolutely ruined him for younger women.

I am so pleased.

So I'm here in this porno store looking for tapes like that. One of the clerks watches me like a hawk. Have there never been women in here before? When did these guys get off the boat? We wonder. I make a point of picking up and ogling the most lurid tapes I can find, just to tweak him.

We finally round up a motley collection of German DVDs, a couple of Italian ones and some boy tapes. I need to research at home where the good lesbian porn is hiding. D is especially happy at the content of this store and its prices.

We should have gotten "The Fantastic Goat." That might have been fun. He would have gone well with the decor at the Carlton too. We decide to stay at the Carlton, I end up loving the place. But we do move to a larger room. No more pandas. I draw the line at kids and animals though. But I think goats are kinda cute.

Don't you?