Good morning, my love!
It’s amazing how much laundry I’d built up. No choice but to wash it today. So now I have half an hour to write you, while the machines run. I also really need a haircut.
[Two memos added much later. First, this took longer than half an hour. Second, this whole email comes with a serious NSFW warning. If you are reading it at work now, just close the email and save it for later.]
First, to fold your other email into this one, yes Girlfriend 1 actually thanked me timidly, early on, for sharing Wife with her. Now after a year or two had passed (Wife said that) she was encouraging Wife to leave our town and me, and to come to the Bay to live with her. But I chalk that up to passion, plus two years at college listening to other people’s coming-out stories and weaving a romantic fantasy of her own. Perhaps I flatter myself and she actually thought me an ogre, who knows? I tried to be a gentleman, but Eros can distort the best of intentions all to hell. The only way to know for sure would be to ask her, I guess, which would first mean finding her .... Maybe not my most practical suggestion.
I don’t know if Girlfriend 1 learned anything from watching me about what to do in bed with Wife. I don’t remember overtly teaching her anything. On the other hand, I do remember that first morning, after we had all been cuddling for a while and it was getting pretty steamy but nobody was admitting it yet, I surreptitiously slid my hand under the covers and up Wife’s nightshirt to verify that she was, as I guessed, wet. She was sopping. So then in a few minutes, as slowly and gently as I could, I pulled back the covers and then took Girlfriend 1’s hand and guided it up Wife’s thigh. There was not the slightest resistance from Girlfriend 1, which told me loud and clear that this was fine with her and she had only been waiting for permission. And when I got her hand all the way up I pushed her fingers into Wife’s squishy-soggy vulva. Wife giggled nervously and asked, “Are you shocked?” I don’t remember any answer from Girlfriend 1; but when I removed my hand, she didn’t remove hers.
Afterwards in private Wife berated me for pushing things to become sexual so fast. But I would have sworn — and would still swear in court today — that all I was doing was to make open what each of us already really, really wanted. (Feel free to add your favorite joke here using the phrase “make open”.)
Here’s the TLP link. It’s clear that he is thinking specifically of MFF threesomes; also that he assumed his archetypal reader is a guy. Most of the article is about something else, or rather a hundred things (as is typical for TLP). https://thelastpsychiatrist.com/2012/06/amy_schumer_offers_you_a_look.html
Hot and also very tender ... yes, that’s an excellent description of the Girlfriend 1 Story. Of course it had its sad parts too, and of course it ended... in fact I think it ended with Girlfriend 1 not wanting to see Wife any more ever again, though that might be creative embellishment by my subconscious. But “hot and very tender” is how I remember it in a nutshell.
Thank you for clarifying that by “jealous” you meant “envious”. I get it now. And yes, that probably would have suited you well. (One of Wife’s reasons for repeatedly pushing me away from Girlfriend 1 was, “She’s young and virginal, she needs to go slower” — where slower seemed to mean “me but not you” because it never changed over years. And slower would have suited you just fine ... as would the sight of Flora coming to your rescue, I imagine.) I will add that from the guy’s point of view that configuration is less than totally satisfactory. But that wasn’t the question.
But also, ... that really was early! If it was before [the boyfriend you mentioned], ... um, gosh, had you been in bed with anyone before Flora and after me? Because going straight from our time in bed to something as complex as another woman and then a threesome ... oh, my sweet, innocent little lamb. Oh heavens!
May I suggest (as you already know) that you really got things out of order in the early years of your sexual history? Wouldn’t it be fascinating to think what changes one could make with the ability to send what you know now back in time? (I guarantee my undergraduate years would change a lot if I could do that!)
Interesting that you’ve assumed that any Third Person would have to be a woman. Now of course I’d be thrilled with a woman, don’t get me wrong. I’ve always loved women. But I recognize that for you the stakes would be a lot higher with a woman. I suggest that three criteria, at a minimum, would have to be met.
First, she would have to be someone you trusted.
Second, she would have to be someone you lusted after. “Finding her attractive” would not be enough, because it can mean so many things. I mean a woman who made your heart beat faster, and your nipples stand erect straining against your T-shirt.
Third — and maybe this is a corollary of the second — she would have to be someone whose enthusiasm you found urgently and overpoweringly contagious in case I had occasion to play her like a violin. The point here is that you’d have less chance to feel jealous if you were also feeling really horny. Or rather, more exactly, the jealousy and insecurity would generate emotional fuel that would be taken over by the overpowering lust ... so that you would feel every spasm vicariously, voraciously, and so that when it was your turn right after you would launch into orbit.
You could hold her or even kiss her while I was attending to her other end, if it would help the contagion. I don’t need a lot of room in which to work.
I think these criteria are not impossible, but they certainly set the bar very high. On the other hand, they might encourage you to keep your eyes open.
Ooh, ooh — apropos of very little, but I had an idea at the laundromat. Let me pass this on to you as, ... umm, as a compelling image or storyline. Let me know if it shows promise.
You remember that man with the nefarious plan to twist a woman’s feelings by subjecting her to inescapable ecstasy? What would it be like if you had a job as his lab assistant, and he assigned you the task of running the machinery, or administering the medicine, or whatever it was? “You’re a woman, so you’ll know exactly where to hook up the electrodes to have the most devastating impact.” In this story you took the job in all innocence — and let’s assume that you really needed the job so you couldn’t afford to walk out when you learned of his darker plans. But now he’s making you administer the treatment to his subject or even subjects — not just to attach the electrodes or inject her with the serum and then walk away, but to stay there for the whole operation: twist the dials if it’s a machine, closely monitor her reactions to the medicine if it’s a serum, jot down on a clipboard exactly what she does and exactly when she does it, all the way through to the end. You’d have to pay close attention throughout. You couldn’t let anything go unnoticed out of delicacy because “We’re all scientists here.” You’d have to stick with the operation straight through to the end. And what would that be like? How dispassionate could you remain in this job that demands total passionlessness, while the subject(s) is/are experiencing limitless passion?
Of course the spin that it adds to the normal story is the change in your role. You still have no real agency — you need the job and so you have to do whatever he says — and yet you are at the more operational end, rather than the victim. Let me know what you think.
Or maybe you thought up this variant years ago, and were just too embarrassed to say anything.
Ahem. Where was I?
Oh right. Threesomes.
On the other hand, looking at the option where the Other Person is a man ... I’m surprised that never consciously occurred to you. I distinctly remember more than once whispering exactly that fantasy into your ears while you were giddy and incoherent. So it’s funny that you never remembered it for private use later — that’s certainly how I hoped you’d use it! Filling out your repertoire of fantasies was part of my motivation, along with just looking for sounds to accompany your sensations and thinking you might have gotten bored of growls or of “Yes, yes, more, more.” It gives me a way to fuck you even when we are apart.
Anyway, yes I assume you could find a Second Man very agreeable. And that configuration takes advantage of women’s naturally greater endurance — not just for any physical exercise but specifically for sex. Once a guy has come, he’s going to be limp for a while in the best of cases. But at the same time that he’s (temporarily) losing interest, he has just made the girl’s insides even wetter, and she’s usually perfectly ready to keep going. If both men are young and energetic, the first one might even recover in only a little more time than it takes the second one to come in his turn, which means the party can go on (alternating men) quite a while. Once — only once, I’m sorry to say — Wife and Boyfriend 1 and I spent a very agreeable Saturday that way. We needed slightly longer to recover than the other guy took, so we used her vibrator in between. Pity I’m so much older now ....
But look for a guy that I can talk to and make friends with, if possible. Or, ... well, ... I always wanted that in the past, partly because it was so very hard for me to talk about sex and I wanted to be able to talk with the other guy about what we were doing to/for Wife. Also I wanted to be friends rather than rivals. But I can talk about sex better now than I could back then, and I’m less worried about rivalry. In any event it would be nice if he were a good guy. Fortunately it is likely that any guy who met enough of your criteria would meet a lot of mine.
Now I’m going to go get that haircut.
Loving you ever, with body and heart and mind and spirit,
Your Hosea
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