polyamory · real life experience

in bed with my crush

He was here a few days visiting his family and so when he told me he was leaving I had the urge to follow him. I stayed with this feeling a few days and then decided to ask him if I could go stay with him a couple of days. He said yes.

I was nervous and happy, the day before my happy mood was not only apparent it was rather obvious and a little irritating to daddy.

He asks me why I want to go there and I couldn’t really answer beyond wanting to have a diversion which was true. After the last visit I had no expectations. He had clearly said that he did not want a relationship, my top didn’t fit his pot or something to that effect. I had come home with a broken heart and cried for days later. Still in 3 months there had been numerous thoughtful gifts and one time he leaned close to me on the sofa for a few minutes, he even had me sit on his lap for a while when he was sitting next to daddy. Needless to say I am no less in love with him than when I first told him.

I get there to find a clean apartment, I increasingly felt that every time we meet alone I tend to talk about my  problems. This time I tell him there is no crisis. I am relaxed and looking forward to little social interaction far away from the constant bombardment of volunteers at home.

We go out to dinner and settle in at home to watch a movie. We watch the movie without touching. It was my suggestion, cloud atlas. When it ends he gets up and says that he will sort out where I should sleep. I wait on the sofa fiddling with my phone for a moment. He then says you can sleep here or in there pointing to his room. Without hesitation I say its ok I can sleep in there. I get in bed wearing only my underwear. He has seen me naked before at the lake and also in his bed and so this came without awkwardness. Still at this point I had no expectations, I would stay on my side of the bed until it was clear that he had wanted more. He makes a joke and lightly touches my shoulder, this had already happened before on the sofa. This little innocent and what would appear perhaps inconsequential act triggered an all night cuddling session but still he would not kiss me. Under the sheets we were both sweaty and clammy but still he would not stop. In the morning he holds me close to him and asks me if we should continue cuddling. Of course I was enjoying it. And so again the cuddling continued until his fingers found my pleasure spots and mine found his, I kissed him and he kissed me back, I was in that moment so full of hope. For a beautiful moment as he shivered in my arms nothing else mattered. My heart was full. Perhaps I thought this would be a breakthrough and acceptance would follow. I was wrong.

All morning he was happy until the shadow returned. As I lay in his arms again he tells me that it was a mistake. He didn’t want this. It was the pheromones, the smell of me, the body heat… I cannot imagine at this point what my face would have looked like. How could he blame this on the pheromones? I ask him what it is that he is so afraid of, he says complexity. For a moment I am silent. I say finally, life is complex, people are complex… we laugh at how futile this was as reassurance. But perhaps it is not for really relationships in general are dependent on so many variables that makes them automatically complex. He says he wants to be with the right person, it is clear that I don’t fit the bill, I say no I clearly don’t and proceed to list all my flaws and then reminded him that he knows all this and yet here we are. What is so wrong about this place? It doesn’t fit the box. I try to keep my frustration at bay. The box is a trigger topic. I certainly don’t fit the conventional box. And so I am now perhaps a little wiser.

Perhaps next time I should stay away from the bed even when I am invited there, when he wants to hold me I should stand my ground but how can I?  I don’t know, sheer force of will against the damn pheromones haha. The day after he is close to hostile. I had in his mind seduced him, this he said is what he would tell daddy when we get back. I was shocked. It turns out he was serious he told him that he couldn’t work and that lines were crossed even though he hadn’t wanted to. From daddy I got the third degree interrogation, until frustrated and angry I told him exactly what had happened. Daddy then said he wants no part in this and we should resolve our problems between us. I agree. I had not wanted to recount the experience to daddy and neither had I wanted to feel judged or accused for something I certainly didn’t do.

He turns up in the evening at ours, walks in and hugs me. I shrug him off and tell him I am grumpy with him. He is surprised and walks off to smoke. I go off to sit on my own waiting for my anxiety to diminish. Finally I make my way to the sofa and daddy goes to make some dinner. We talk about what he’d said to daddy and he said that he was sorry, in general he found it easier to complain about my visit because he found it hard to admit that actually he had enjoyed it. He wants to be friends in the conventional term and yet he is frustrated at himself for the mixed signals he is sending. I ask him to think about why he is sending them and consider perhaps that the box he is trying so hard to fit this in may not be the right one after all.

As the others go out for a gig we sit on the couch and watch some comedy, the 50cm rule reinstated.






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