I’m on my knees in front of him and looking up. There is dim light streaming in the windows. I’d like to think it is the moon but it is most likely the sub-division street lights casting this cool tint on the moment. Regardless of the source, he looks painfully hot. I can feel myself get wetter as I slide my mouth over his cock and crane my neck to catch his expression.

Perfect. That look on his face and the way he bites his lower lip and the catch of his breath making the only sound in this room. His eyes are closed but I keep my gaze trained on him.

Eventually he opens his eyes and locks onto mine. His body softens a bit as he lets out a deep sigh. He gives me a sorta smile and lifts a hand from the edge of the bed to run in through my hair. As I feel his fingers tangle into my messy waves I soften too. His touch is gentle but authoritative. He doesn’t hesitate as he rests one hand cradling the back of my skull. I feel his thumb trace down my hairline from behind my ear to the nape of my neck and my whole body occupies that touch, a river of cool fire.

I wish I could say I worshiped his cock. But I was living in the nape of my own neck. Oh, I sucked his cock. Tongue darting out and teasing, stroking with my fingers and whole hand. I put on the whole show and I wanted him in my mouth. Wanted him anyway I could have him. But my desire had migrated beyond cock in mouth or cock in cunt or cock at all. I was under those fingers, that hand, this perfect grip. He flexed his fist from time to time squeezing my hair along with it. It never hurt, not an ounce. It was just a rare opportunity to bend to his will.

When he finally pulled me up to my feet by that handful of hair, our eyes met as equals. We’d never left that place but I got to flirt at the edge of something else. He devoured my lips and pulled me close to him. My center left the nape of my neck and I lived again in all of my flesh, all of it satisfied to be pressed against him. We breathed that moment, lips connected in the pale glow of the street lamp but creating our own light.

I went to camp last month and had a very important time. It took several weeks for the bruises to fade but I’m still processing the self-discovery.

I entered camp strongly suspecting that it would be my last foray into non-monogamy for awhile. Incidentally, I didn’t have a lot of sex. I spent most of my play time getting punched and beaten by lovely people. I also made some personal connections that I hope will persist.

No one has asked me to be monogamous but after being pretty roughed up in my last relationships, I’m starting to think that polyamory and all that goes with it aren’t what I want right now. This means something big. My darling Jay and I are no longer “together”. I invoke the scare quotes because we are together still in many ways. We share a home, although he now moved into the other bedroom. We share a life, although we no longer make long-term plans for the future together. And we share many laughs and that part needs no caveat. I’m lucky to still have a best friend and supporter even if our romantic partnership is dissolved.

I know many of you poly folk think that sex and passion ending isn’t a reason to end a relationship. And I think that if Jay and I had a mortgage or children tying us together we’d make the best of it and have other lovers while keeping maintaining the basics of our life together as a priority. However, we don’t have those things. We just have an amazing friendship that isn’t going anywhere soon. And I suffer from some pretty old-fashioned ideas about having a home and a life with someone that I do have a romantic relationship with. And monogamy. I’m getting more conservative, I suppose, in my old age.

So at camp I tentatively said goodbye to some things that are important to me but I’m pretty committed to my involvement with this community. I don’t know if complete sexual monogamy is something that I’ll stick to (although it is working just fine at the present, thank you) but I do know I’m strictly devoted to the idea of one relationship at a time.

Dear reader, I can hear the collective groans as you assume that I’m about to get intensely boring. Honestly, I think this blog has been pretty boring for months. I’m hoping to get back to writing more often in the hopes of keeping myself engaged with my own sexual journey and sharing the excitement of my burgeoning romance with Mr. Vanilla. I want to tease out the significance of what I’m doing in that it is a choice I’m making for myself and with my eyes wide open and I hope to show that fucking in single file doesn’t have to mean boring.