The very beginning

Names and places have been changed to protect the privacy of others and myself.


I joined a polyamorous household 3 years ago. I didn’t mean to at first, not really. I had my own goals, and they were just meant to be fun for that moment in time, but that changed. 

I guess maybe that’s early, but that’s not the VERY beginning. 

Let me rewind. 

When a man and woman want to have a baby, they- 

… What? Too far? 

Okay, we’ll start at 18. 

When I turned 18, I left my home in Connecticut to live in Colorado with a boy. I didn’t tell anyone, I just up and left. This boy and I had been friends online since I was 14, and we started online dating when I was 17. As soon as we started a romantic relationship, he was extremely controlling, needy, possessive, etc. etc. 

I believed him when he said it was because of the distance, and I went to him chasing a happily ever after that wasn’t there. It naturally only got worse, and it was hell for a couple of years (off and on). 

The first time I left him was with a little extra help… okay, a lot of extra help. My boyfriend at the time wouldn’t let me have a job, so I had no money to buy my own way out, and I wasn’t about to go back to my family with my tail between my legs.

One way or another, I made my way onto a sugar dating website, and there was a man on there who was willing to get me from Point A to Point B in exchange for a weekend of my company. Risky as hell, but I took that chance. I’ll get into that experience some other time. That’s not the point of this entry that I’m working on. 

I get the hell out of dodge, end up in Florida with my best friend at the time, and it’s decent for a little while. She and her friend introduce me to a certain fetish social media site, and I don’t think much of it because I’m not a kinky girl, but again what the hell, I’ll try it out.  I meet some friends on there (and some less than friendly people), and it’s okay overall. Better than facebook. 

My ex gets back in contact with me and convinces me that things would have been fine if I would have just talked things out with him, been open with how I felt, etc. etc. I ended up going back (STUPID MOVE! But maybe it was necessary for my growth afterwards), and whaddayaknow, it’s not better at all. In fact, it’s even worse, but this time there are fleas and flies, both in excess. Nice. 

I sincerely try to turn the relationship around, and I sincerely try to get him to allow me to work so we can have better living conditions, better food, clean clothes, and all that good stuff. It is not until a financial crisis comes up that he agrees that now it’s okay for me to work, but by that time I’ve already had enough of him in every way.  

He worked the nightshift at that time, so when he’d go to work, I’d be at home talking to people on the fetish site, desperate for contact with the outside world. I needed socialization.  

I have a little bit of extra body fat on me, so I joined one of the groups on the site, something about being thick, curvy, or BBW. Well I’m not a big girl, but I’ve got some meat on me so I joined and said a little hello message in the introduction forum. 

Then some guy messages me. 

“Do you see your body like you’re looking in a fun house mirror? The group you joined is for BBWs.” 

I feel a little bit of an attitude, and I’m also ready to tell him off. “For your information, you don’t have to be a BBW to join. The group page clearly says thick, curvy, or BBW. I know I’m not a BBW, but I am on the curvy side.” 

He agrees and immediately pulls me into a conversation, keeping me more interested than I’ve been when talking to anyone else on the site thus far. 


This is the first contact. 


We sent long messages back and forth to each other for a few days. I write the way that I talk, and I talk a lot, so you already know he got a good little number of novels from me. He was impressed with how much effort I put into my messages, and we stayed talking any time I could sneak a message to him away from my boyfriend’s suspicious eyes. 

I tell this new, super interesting guy about my life. Let’s call this guy Jack, and let’s call the boyfriend at the time Junk. Hahahaha, ahem . Okay. 

I tell Jack about my life, and I’m really feeling his mental vibe, but in a totally innocent way. I don’t really care to start anything with anyone. At 19 going on 20, I felt that I had had my fair share of relationship headaches. 

After I tell Jack about my life, he shares his life situation with me. He tells me he has a baby girl with his girlfriend that he’s been with for a few years by that point. He tells me that he and his girlfriend (let’s call her Jen) are polyamorous, and he wants it out in the open so I don’t feel like I’m being blindsided by anything. Okayyyy, cool. Whatever. I didn’t care at all. Getting anywhere near his relationship was not my MO, so I felt like that information was irrelevant. 

We talk more and more, and I don’t remember how we got on the subject of relationships, but it ended up in me basically telling him that relationships and the feelings associated with them are something that I want to avoid because I don’t think it’s for me. I don’t think I can feel like that for anyone after going through so much emotional crap, blah, blahblah, blahblah. Ugh. Anyway. 

He says something to the effect of “if anyone could make you love again, I think it would be me.” Sure thing, Captain Overconfidence. Whatever you say. 

I had turned 20 by now, and I had already started trying to figure out how to get out of Texas again, for the final time. During the day I was looking for a job like I was supposed to, but at night I was on the sugar site trying to find someone to get me out in exchange for whatever they wanted. I was also getting my fix of Jack. I’d started to depend on him. I would keep myself up all hours of the night hoping he’d send one last message, and he always did. I don’t think that was the point that I loved him yet, but I was already emotionally dependent on him; that’s for damn sure. 

I had met another friend online, and I called him Ri-kun, but that was not his real name. He wasn’t even Asian. The honorific was more of an inside joke than anything. 

Ri-kun liked me, a lot. I liked him a fair amount, in a friendly way. He was also a pretty good distraction from the life that I was living. My sugar search wasn’t going so well, but Ri-kun offered to try and see if he could get me out. “Well honey, if you’re willing to save me then I’ll like you as much as you want” was sort of the way I proceeded with that.

I agreed to be his girlfriend. He got me out in December of 2014. He lived in Maryland, and Jack lived in Virginia, so close. Right there. I was more nervous and excited about Jack than Ri-kun, but at this point I felt sure that it was only because Jack was cooler and more interesting than Ri-kun. 

I felt like I gave Ri-kun a genuine shot. I tried to be interested in what he likes: video games (I actually already like video games), weed, pro wrestling, and more weed. I tried to sympathize with his woes. I tried to be friends with his friends and live life as his Neko-chan, which is what he called me. The problem was that he was an oversized man-child with personal hygiene issues and delusions about how life should be treating him while he sits on his couch and does nothing all day.  

Sex with Ri-kun was… underwhelming. Being told that I’m cumming when I wasn’t was… interesting at best. 

I made plans to meet Jack and Jen as soon as possible. I was so stoked to have the freedom to go out if I wanted to. 

I don’t actually remember what the first meeting with them was like, besides the fact that Jen was extremely warm and inviting, and she crushed away any awkwardness I may have felt by instead making me feel like I was an old friend of hers. I ended up having sexual contact with both of them that night. I’m not gay, I’m not even bisexual really (more like heteroflexible), but Jen was the first person to ever make me orgasm in any way.

In the beginning, sex with Jack was pretty good I suppose. An impression wasn’t really left on me about it right away, besides the fact that I was shocked and a bit unnerved by the sounds he’d made. I’d never heard a man do more than pervy-whisper-groaning “OooOOOooohhhh”s before, so his tiny growl was a first. I didn’t know what to think. 

I started sugaring again. I left Ri-kun at home as often as possible, spending the night with Jack and Jen or with my new sugar daddy, Rick. 

Rick was nice, charming, funny, handsome, in good shape, and just about perfect. He was a little extra about tidiness, but that was okay. I didn’t have to live with him. 

Rick told me one night “I’m not your sugar daddy, I’m your man.” Okay, we’re dating. Sure, I can go with that. Rick did not know about my relationship with Ri-kun, nor how close I was with Jack and Jen. He play-worried that they would force me into a threesome. HAH! HahahahahahahahahahaHAha. Ahem. 

I was getting closer with Jack and Jen every time I saw them. Jen frequently slept on the couch so that I could sleep next to Jack (the bed was too tiny for the three of us), which baffled me as an unnaturally kind thing to do. Jack became a regular intimate partner for me.

I think I had sex with Ri-kun maybe two or three times out of the whole time I was with him. Three, tops. Low libido was my excuse. 

The closer I got to Jack, the more I enjoyed sex with him. It’s purely mental, y’know? Though we should keep in mind that this guy was purely meant to be an escape, nothing serious. 

Sex with Rick was not bad in general. 

A month had passed since I had moved to the DMV area (DC, Maryland, Virginia), so it’s creeping up on the end of January by this point in the timeline. 

I get back in contact with my mom for the first time in a long time while I’m sitting in Jack’s car, and it went pretty well, but it was also so emotionally rattling that I broke down like a baby in front of him and his daughter. He didn’t really understand why I was crying, BUT he understood that I was thoroughly shook for some reason, and that I needed a moment, and that I needed to be handled with care. His understanding meant the world to me. 

I’m not sure if I already loved him unconsciously by this point. 

I was still seeing Rick once a week or so, and I was starting to feel bad about seeing other people. He did say we were “together,” after all. 

One night I was in bed with Jack, and he had started to put the moves on me, but my conscience was finally starting to develop. Rick was a nice guy, and I felt like I should be more serious about my relationship with him, more committed to him. I told Jack exactly what the deal was, and he said said he understood. He didn’t like it, but he understood.

He then proceeded to say something along the lines of “well, even if we’re not in a sexual relationship, we can still cuddle. I bet most guys wouldn’t be able to cuddle naked with you and behave the whole time, but blah blah something about my superiority to those weak beta males and how I value you enough to respect the situation.” Sounds like a line, and I PROBABLY shouldn’t, but I like cuddling, so okay. 

I tell myself that I am JUST going to be Jack’s friend, nothing more… as he’s holding me naked. Okay. My conscience was only just starting to develop, after all.

Even though I’m seeing Rick, I find myself immediately eager for the restricted touches with Jack. Nothing obscene, just hugging… horizontally…in bed…naked. Totally normal! I find myself over eager for the next glance he sends my way, any little touch that happens to graze me. 

AND THEN ONE DAY I’m in the store with Jack, Jen, and the baby (let’s call her Krystal, Krys for short). We’re walking down the aisles, like normal. I’m kind of wondering if it’s even okay for me to be tagging along on family outings when I’ve quite plainly put up a wall, a line in the sand of some sort.  

Well Jack says “fuck your line.” Not in so many words, but still. 

(Keep in mind, this might only be like four days or so after my decision to be just friends)

We’re in an aisle, right, and Jack goes over and kisses Jen real quick. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then he turns to me and immediately stalks or swaggers or something over in my direction. Without warning, he kisses me too. Y’all. Y’all. You all. That kiss heated me up everywhere. I was so shocked, and so unnervingly elated that it had me in a daze the rest of the evening. 

After that kiss, I immediately knew two things. 1: I couldn’t keep any sort of distance anymore. There was no way I could resist. 2: We were gonna bone that night. I had to be blunt. Sorry. That’s the black and white of it. He’s not one to hesitate really, and if he decided that he was going to claim me that night, well, then I would have gotten claimed. And I did. 

When we got back from the store, I was watching him, waiting for him to do something else that stepped all over the boundaries I had tried to make. I wanted him to. I was anxious and eager. He acted normal, like nothing had changed from how I had tried to make it, but I knew it wasn’t going to stay that way. 

When it was time for bed that night, I was too ready to get undressed, too ready to feel his skin on mine. “Is he going to kiss me again? I think he’s going to kiss me. Are you going to kiss me? Kiss me.” 

It was kind of like a scene from a movie. He was holding me under the blanket, I was wrapped around him, and our faces were so close. I wouldn’t say we were looking at each other necessarily. He may have been looking at me, but I was only looking at his mouth. It was gonna happen. When he kissed me, that was something special. By that point, I definitely loved him. I sure as hell was not ready to admit it to myself yet, but I was in love with that man.  

Also, Rick who? 

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