And Lust Converges into Doubt Which Converges into Lust Which Converges into Doubt Which...

Before you read this post, I urge you to read this one.

Because some things have changed and I'm processing how they changed, why they changed, if the change was and is good and if it will continue.

First, Vice has a girlfriend. It's official. I am in deep smit :) I can't and won't post a picture, even though I want to show you how h-a-w-t she is, both physically and emotionally. Suffice to say, she looks a lot like this:

Yes, my gf looks like a young Adrienne Barbeau.

Complete with pierced nipples that I find exotically, erotically fascinating.  

I'm attracted to her...name? Um, we'll call her Ruby for now.

She is fast becoming a regular on the menu of delights for me...and....Bent? Yes, and Bent.

Our dyad has, in a way, become a triad. She isn't a toy I picked up at the local sex shop; she is a living, breathing, feeling, beautiful woman, a human being, a friend. She met my kids, she ate Thanksgiving dinner with us, She shared our bed with us.  In a way, I think I love her. But I don't love her in the way I love Bent...must I really explain polyamory to you? No, I don't think I will. Suffice to say, Bent is my priority, still and forever.

The first night together, Bent informed her while at a swinger party, that we were "going to make her come" on a Sybian. We did; we did and then Vice took to her cunt and lapped up everything until Ruby roiled and released on the floor in front of a myriad of strangers. And nothing about it was strange for Bent and Ruby and I. Bent's cock was out of his pants and I took him in my mouth. I looked at Ruby, the ultimate submissive and yet, my friend...and with one look, she understood and took him with me.  

Our next time together struck me as odd and exciting, pushing emotional boundaries. We all sat in lingerie in a B&B and played a game. The lights came down, and Ruby, on her period, was surprised when we pulled out the Hitachi and I bent Bent's head with me to take her nipples. His eyes widened only slightly as I crossed another barrier I'd said I wouldn't. 

Last night, it was a hotel, watching vintage porn, drinking champagne. I suckled at Ruby's cunt, her hips rising off of the bed, and Bent's face hovered right next to mine, as if to ask permission. I gave it.  The logistics of sucking on her clit didn't allow for simultaneous licking. I moved away and kissed her inner thigh while Bent hungrily lapped at her cunt and this is where lust.....converges into doubt.

I sit here, throbbing, trembling from desire and my cunt moistens with the memory of her. Her and him. Him and her. And her cunt in his mouth.

The thoughts of him giving her pleasure is frightening to me because when one pleasures another, the focus is not on another. Or is it? When I pleasure her, Bent is always there, watching, waiting, wondering and enjoying. Is it possible that he has me in his mind's eye as well?

My fear won't allow me to think so.

Ruby wrote me a beautiful email. She told me, in a sense, to 'be careful'. She doesn't want me to do anything to cause a rift between us--with Bent as the reason. She wants me--needs me in her life. I admire that and promised her I wouldn't. And I won't. I have no desire to hurt my Vicey heart. But my Vicey heart is hurting, nonetheless.

Why.

I don't know. 

Ruby would never do anything to hurt me or Bent's relationship. I trust her almost completely. I don't want Ruby alone as much as with my Bent. I want to get to the point where I can share all of him with her and all of her with him.

And I'm not even close. Even in the throes of passion, I wondered at the wisdom of allowing his mouth to invade her pussy. But desire won out; and I thought I was ready. I wasn't.

My instinct is to shrink back from them both. But I can't, I can't and I won't. It isn't anyone's fault but my own.

It all boils down to my trust of Bent. What does HE truly want? I don't know that I completely trust that he will tell me and there's the rub.

He has told me he wants to fuck Ruby. But he wants to fuck her only with me. They are the two wheels; I am the axle that binds them.

They move only because of me. They form around me, they turn because of me. But what happens when the wheels move across the axle and touch in the middle? Does the axle become the sidecar?

My fears are old. My fears are murky.

I fear he wants to play with her with me and that he is developing feelings for her outside of me. A real concern, yes I know. Vice, are you stupid, says my inner Big Sister.  Perhaps. Perhaps not.  I know he has feelings for her as a decent and compassionate man. I don't mind that. But I do. I see how he treated me before we married. I think he would never treat her so poorly. I still hurt. And I fear he has wanted this all along and I have played right into slippery hands.

I fear his desire to watch the three of us play will supersede his desire for me alone.

I fear I'll lose her from my fear.

I fear he wants her because he's tasted her. Bonding occurs with tasting, I've found.

I fear he wants to pleasure her. I fear the dyad has forever become a triad. And I fear it from me as much as him. I can't imagine going to any adult event without her now. 

I fear his arousal is steeped and tied to her scent, her smell, our smell, his visual of our feminine bodies mingling together. I feel I alone will never be enough again. I fear he will never admit this to me. Ever.

I think I already believe it to be true because I fear I am not enough thanks to the Ex-Mr. Vice.

I want to shrink in on myself and not be touched, not be held by anything but my own fears. I want to and Bent won't let me. Ruby, I could never hurt. How do I tell her I need time to process and I need her friendship to do it? Did sex with her muck up something better?

I have no conclusions. 

But I am trembling and fragile and in love and in hurt and all of those things that make up a fitful nights' sleep.

Love, 

Vice