A Blissful Train Journey

He stood on the concourse and waited for the announcement, quietly, not thinking about anything in particular.

2.05: platform 3, and he was off, ready to relax in the garden, looking forward to enjoying this unusual of warm afternoons, sipping wine and having a good browse through the paper that he had just bought.

He was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. In fact, he couldn’t wait. He was longing to feel her in his arms. He was dying to lead her upstairs and undress her; lay her in his bed and watch her face as she responded to his amorous touches. Cascades of loveliness consumed him.

He smiled at the thought as he walked onto the train, taking his phone from his pocket to text her.

He sat down and started to compose the message.

And then he looked up.

The woman was sitting in front of him. Dark, wavy hair was tumbling down her body, swept to one side, covering her ample boob with a streak of smoothness. He instantly imagined it falling on her naked breast, realising the joy of gently sweeping it aside to view the dark and delicious nipple.

The text. He must send this text.

But his eyes averted once more to the young woman before him.

He allowed his gaze to naturally fall further down the woman’s body. Her dark skin was shining with the slightest of perspiration. Her skin was the most perfect colour; a golden olive that was as natural as the cascading hair.

She was utterly beautiful.

But then he became stuck.

He could not avert his eyes. They seemed glued to her legs. He couldn’t move, could hardly breathe.

She sat with her legs ever so slightly ajar but closed enough to contain her womanhood. Not that this stopped his imagination. What was she wearing underneath the frothy skirt? Was her pussy covered in white or black? Thongs or lacy panties like the ones his lover wore?

Was she shaven or natural? Did her labia protrude with an open invitation to feel her clitoris?

How would those legs feel underneath him? Would she wrap them around and leave her feet on his arse as he entered into her? Would she allow him to spend time just running his hands up and down them in mesmerised delight? He could have spend hours just looking at them, feeling them, kissing them. He longingly looked at her neat ankles, beautifully contained within the subtlest of straps that led down to a glorious heeled shoe that he hoped she would keep on when he fucked her.

The text. The text needed to be sent, only how could he keep his eyes off this woman for long enough to tap out the message. What if she was getting off at the next station? He only had a relatively short amount of time, and yet he felt a burning desire to share his good fortune.

His eyes reluctantly moved away from this majestic montage of beauty but before returning to his phone, he looked up and caught a second of her face looking at him, before he started keying in his note.

“Meeting went well. Just looking at the most gorgeous creature on train. Legs to die for. x”

He clicked the send button which enabled him to return to the subject in front of him as he tucked his phone away once more.

When was the last time he had felt like this? Had he ever actually felt like this before where the desire for one person, a complete stranger, was so intense that he felt he had to do something about it?

But it was ridiculous. What on earth would she say? She was young enough to be his daughter but that did not cross his mind. All he could see was those legs, and all he could imagine was grasping those thighs hard as he penetrated her.

He had to have her. How was this remotely feasible?

He lay his paper down on his knees.

He was semi-erect and wanted to hide the fact, just in case she noticed and was somewhat alarmed to see a fifty year old man with a hard-on that was clearly initiated by thoughts about her luscious body.

He looked down at the paper, unable to read out of infatuation, unable to read because he couldn’t move right now to reach for his glasses.

He looked up once more as the train passed through the two stations before his own.

She was still there.

She saw his gaze.

She raised her eyes above him, as though she was reading the map.

She raised her arm to feel the back of her neck, and then gathered her hair together, tossing it all behind her back, leaving her breasts in full sight, wonderfully contained in a perfectly white bra that he could see through her T-shirt; lacy and tasteful – just as he liked, just as he had imagined.

She stared at him.

She opened her legs with the slightest of movement that only the very observant would have noticed.

He returned her gaze.

The station was approaching.

It was now or never.

What was he going to do?

The phone buzzed. The text was being responded to.

He couldn’t look.

The station was less than a minute away.

Their eyes locked.

They both stared at one another.

28.... 27.... 26.... 25 ............

The valley of the station was being entered into.

17.... 16.... 15.... 14 ...........

He had to move to signal that he was leaving.

And still they stared at one another. No smile. Just total engagement.

9....  8.... 7.... 6 ........

He got up.......

......... And she so did she.

Those fucking gorgeous legs, offset in the most incredibly sexy shoes. Her skirt delicately flopped down above her knees, floating slightly with the air conditioning.

4.... 3.... 2.... 1..........

The door opened.

They walked in synch to the door and stepped out into the heat of the afternoon.

They walked side by side for a few steps towards the stairs.

And then he turned to her.

She stood still and looked up to him.

He moved towards her and gently slid his right hand down her left leg, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, his left hand resting on her shoulder.

She stood there for a second as he reached the end of her skirt and lifted it an inch to feel the lower end of her thigh.

And then they lurched towards one another and kissed with such vibrancy that a passionate urgency was awoken.

They stood there grabbing one another, tossing their heads from side to side as they plunged their tongues into one another, rushing their hands over one another’s backs.

He pulled her further towards him with his hand firmly clasped over her buttocks. She reciprocated bringing his erection closer to her clothed cunt.

He grabbed her hand and rushed towards the steps.

She eagerly obliged and ran up the stairs.

They barely waited for the traffic to part as they raced across the busy road.

They ran along the pavement on the other side; he, practically pulling her along as her long waves of hair danced by the side of her face in rhythmic symbiosis to the thumping of her heart.

Abruptly he stopped, and held her face in his hands.

He looked deeply into her eyes as she stared back at him.

He kept her gaze, holding his palms carefully, firmly on her face, asking her, asking her without a single word being spoken.

Her eyes were beginning to water and she effortlessly motioned for him to kiss her.

They locked once more in a kiss before he stopped it as violently as he had started, grabbed her hand once more and started once more along the pathway to his house.

They reached the gate, almost panting.

He got his keys out and unlocked his door, pulling her in behind him.

At the door, he pushed her towards the wall.

She leant into it, arching her knees slightly as he smoothed his hands over her shoulders, down across her breasts and longingly towards those legs, feeling their warmth, their slight moisture, before tossing up her skirt to feel the upper extent of her thighs.

He rushed his hand around to her buttocks, feeling their emptiness and imagining the thong between her. He grabbed her arse urgently, still kissing her with as much vehemence as on the station.

She pulled away.

He stared at her.

She stared back and started to smile.

“I need a piss” she said with a hint of a eastern European accent.

He took her hand and led her to the downstairs toilet, opening the door for her and stepping aside so that she could walk in.

She walked towards the door, and closed it before she could enter into the small room.

Grabbing his hand she led him into the kitchen beyond.

He walked passed her and stood at the sink, watching.

She stood there in front of him, legs together, with her arms swooping her hair high above her head.

And then she moved her legs into the lengthiest of inverse V’s with her strappy stilettos making their station in the tiles beneath her.

Her arms flopped to her side, and she ruffled up her skirt either side of her body, to reveal a pair of the most perfect white panties.

With her skirt tucked up around her tummy, she stood there, and pissed all over the floor, keeping her eyes firmly on this man of desire in front of her.

He clutched his cock, still hopelessly contained in his trousers as she continued to stream this fluid out of her body.

The moisture of the urine poured out of her, soaking her little covering to reveal the most glorious state of darkness between her legs.

She tossed her head back in relief, and revelled in the glory of this most deviant of acts.

She then let her skirt fall, and she reached to the side fastening, unclipped it and stepped out of it, placing it carefully on the kitchen table.

She looked at him once more as she clipped her fingers into the now sodden panties and removed them, plonking them on the floor beneath her opened legs.

She stepped around her mess and moved towards him, with her pussy wet and naked. As she was walking, she whipped her t-shirt off, and started to unclip her bra.

By the time she got to him, her hands were behind her back, unfastening the penultimate garment, ready to fling it to the floor so that he could see her in her full glory.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he mesmerizingly placed his arms around her waist, with his hands loosely resting on her buttocks.

And they kissed once more; tenderly this time, like lovers who had just made love.

He released her a little to take in every inch of her body.

She once more moved her head high to feel the length of her hair across her back as he looked thoroughly over her entire body.

He dragged her towards him and kissed her again.

She then reached to his belt, undid it and pulled his trousers to the ground.

He stepped out and rapidly pushed his knickers off, revealing the biggest erection that she had ever seen. His cock protruded intensely, waving about with the weight of his need.

He took his top off and then felt her nakedness next to him.

She stood back and worked her hands towards her own cunt, opening her labia and slightly crouching so that he could see the pinkness emerging from the blackened pubes, offset in a mirage of bewilderment that was the top of those incredible legs.

He had to get into her but he also had to have his time with those legs.

He sank to the floor and kissed her knees, holding her firmly in his grasp as he worked his way around her torso, delighting in the fact that she was already fingering herself as he did so.

He moved around her on his knees, kissing her arse and running his hands from front to back, delighting in the slight response that his touch was creating.

He stood up, taking his hands from her hips in a parallel movement up to those dark, imagined nipples, taking them in his mouth as he gradually climbed into an upright position.

He took his hands from her breast and joined with her fingers inside her pussy.

He felt right in there, loving the feel, exciting at the moisture still present from her piss, feeling it growing some more, ready for a climatic ejaculation.

He curled his fingers over and over inside her, taunting her, tempting her, willing her to release something entirely different.

She leant towards the sink and he could feel her insides bubbling up to the point of....... yes!

Total release all over his pubes.

He removed her hand and his, and pushed his cock deep inside her, as she stood in those shoes and allowed him to fuck her intensely.

He kissed her passionately with every thrust. She responded, moving her hands all over his face.

He turned her round, and entered her from behind, feeling her sweet tits subtly bobbing in time.

She moved back round to face him, with her hands on her hips.

He stood in front of her with his cock in his hands and wanked himself to a rapid cum that he aimed all over her legs. He needed his spunk on those legs, and after he had exhausted his climax, he rubbed his juices into her shins, polishing them off, ensuring his sperm was wrapped all over her wonderful calf muscles.

And then he slumped into a sitting position, still clutching his cock, closed his eyes and flopped.

She reached down to the floor, picked up her bra and her T-shirt, placing them back on her exhausted body.

She walked passed him, gathered her skirt together and placed it back over her body.

She swept down to the floor to retrieve her sodden panties, opened her bag and placed them in there.

She picked up her bag as he clambered up from the floor.

He stood there in his rawest state, overcome by the madness and sanity of what had just happened.

She walked towards him, raised her hand to stroke his face, kissed him on the cheek and said,

“Thank you for letting me use your toilet”.

And with that, she walked towards the door and let herself out into the day.

He stood there, naked.

Had he imagined it all?

He stood there for some minutes before looking over to the puddle on the floor.

His phone buzzed.

Another text.

“Fuckable? x”

“Yes very x” he managed to write back.

“Would I want to her fuck her too? x” was the immediate response.

He dressed himself, walked out into the garden and sat down with the paper.

“You would have loved to have fucked her, if only I had managed to get her name and number! xx”

How was it for you?

Don’t make me feel embarrassed to talk about sex!

This is the slogan for a sex positive petition that Brook are currently running to try and get quality Sex and Relationships Education (SRE) into schools throughout the country.

http://dontmakeusembarrassed.tumblr.com/

There is also a petition that can be signed, again to help the cause in getting young people the access to quality learning and teaching in this area that they deserve.

http://www.brook.org.uk/sex-positive

So who will sign? Or are we even so terrified of the subject that we cannot even put our name to a cause such as this? Have we become totally intolerant of sex, and totally incapable of holding our hands up to say, “Yes, I like sex. I want sex. I want to talk about sex” whilst at the same time allowing sexually inappropriate messages to convey themselves to children and young people through television, music and appalling clothing for kids.

I don’t know about you but my sex education was crap.

It was crap in school and it was crap through my first experience of penetrative sex. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, even though I was doing it with a relatively experienced bloke.

I had no idea what a clitoris was let alone where it was. I only knew that somehow and at some time, he was going to stick is dick into my vagina, and it might hurt.

It has taken me years to recover from both experiences. In fact, it is still taking me time to recover from it. Nowadays, whilst I am at least more confident to talk about sex, having experienced the very best sex that one could have, I am still lacking in confidence to be as sexual as I sometimes feel, and I still get embarrassed to ask for sex. I still don’t like doing that, however much my mind, body and soul are crying out for it.

And then I get cross with myself for being such a demanding dimwit.

But I do hope I am no longer embarrassed to talk about sex and will happily do so with anyone who wants to listen.

Sex is vital.

End of.

And we need to get it right NOW before another generation of people are misinformed about the brilliance of it all - unable to be liberated by sex and unable to make wise choices and decisions about sex.

We need to talk about sex now, and we need to do it in a way that ensures young people do not diddle around before they understand what they are doing. We need young people to know that sex is so bloody wonderful there is no point in ‘doing it’ just for the sake of it. There is every point in delaying until they fully appreciate every facet of its wonderment.

So what was your experience of sex education?

The lessons on sex in school occurred about a year after my first period – wonderfully age-appropriate then!

A large reel film was placed in a blackened room where every person passing by knew exactly what we were watching because it was timetabled for the same week each year with the same year group. The boys wandered up and down trying to get a glimpse of what we were watching and for some bizarre reason, this session was delivered by our PE teachers.

I can remember the stifled giggling, and the heads turned away when the baby was popping its head out. I remember the cartoons and the photos of sanitary towels and tampons. I have a vague recollection of the teacher telling us that tampons might be rather difficult to use until the hymen was broken (for fuck’s sake) whilst simultaneously telling us that any girl with their hymen intact was clearly a virgin.

I begged to ask the question whether sticking a Tampax up your fanny therefore made you sexually active but I never had the nerve.

Of course, afterwards it was clear that good girls used sanitary towels whilst the local slappers were all practiced in tampon insertion.

I mean, can you believe this?

The sad thing is that I am not sure that it has changed that much since I was at school.

The other thing that I remember was that either the teacher or the film told us that it was probably better not to go to the toilet too often when we were on a period, or perhaps I have just made that up for I am still sitting here thirty odd years on trying to understand why on earth this advice would have been given.

Like most children and young people, I got to know about sex through conversations with friends and peers. And nobody ever talked to me about delaying sexual activity or what it actually entailed other than penetrative sex. Nobody ever told me about masturbation, and even when I was regularly getting myself off with the corner of a cushion, still I didn’t realise that I was wanking.

I didn’t even know what rape was until I was eighteen, so I wouldn’t have known whether someone was touching me inappropriately other than my common sense. I remember distinctly a couple of boys at school grabbing my arse one day whilst I was on my period, and laughing at the fact that I had a sanitary towel on. I cannot believe that I did not report them for their gross invasion on my privacy. I never did because there was no way that I could talk about it to anyone, and so they got away with it.

I was lucky. It went no further. But I was not and am not the only ill-informed young woman who has endured inappropriate touches and it breaks my heart to think that there are still young people out there who do not understand what is happening to them because we are all still too embarrassed to talk about sex.

But those are the negatives.

What we really should be doing is talking about the positives.

I wish someone had told me what it could be like, so that when I had sex for the first time I would have known that it wasn’t just in my imagination. It really was crap.

I do feel that it is paramount that those who have experienced sex as it should be have a duty to tell the world. If they keep their mouths shut then children, young people and adults are never going to understand or appreciate what they could be getting, could be experiencing.

If you have had decent sex, you should be screaming out about it.

No sex at all is bad. Mediocre sex is probably even worse, especially once you have experienced the best that sex can offer.

Having decent sex is fine but if you have the opportunity for the best sex, then perhaps that is what you should be aiming for, but if you do not know about it because the likes of me have not explained what proper, wonderful sex entails, then how are you ever going to know what you are aiming for?

Magazines like Cosmopolitan have been blamed in the past for providing a distorted view of sex. Critics have said that if you read magazines such as these, it gives the impression that everyone is going at it like bunnies, having the most mind-blowing orgasmic sex and that if you were not having such a brilliant experience then there must be something wrong with you or your relationship.

There was a time when I agreed with the critics. Surely this could not be happening? Surely it was normal to only have sex once a month, if that, once you were in an established relationship. Surely it was normal for the bloke to hump himself into you and cum after four or five quick shoves. Surely it was normal for a woman to just lie there and satisfy her partner without ever worrying about having an orgasm for herself? Well that was what the pillow was for when he took a shower post-coital.

And then I woke up. I then I got it. And then I found Satori.

No wonder I still crave it.

I accept that a large majority of people do not have the type of brilliant sex as outlined in such magazines but that does not mean to say that we should all keep quiet so that the uninitiated feel better. Nobody should suffer mediocre sex. Nobody. I would even go as far as to say it is a right of all to really experience wonderful sex at least once in their lives.

For those of us who have, we need to keep on telling people what they can have. We need to carry on having wonderful sex and we need to make sure that the world knows about it.

As far as young people are concerned, they need to know how brilliant it is too so that they can know what to expect. But it is also important that they know there is no point in starting too soon.

The best sex is a combination of heart, mind and soul.

That is what they should be aspiring too and that is what we should be telling them is possible.

And now – I have guests just arriving. So I will stop talking about sex because that is not on!

Oh when will I be free to be me?

A Non-Conformist Approach to Life

I recently attended a family birthday celebration.

Sat at my table was an intriguing group of people.

There were young women dressed as though they had been stamped with a conformity mark of the 1950s; dressed in twin set and pearls. I was seriously worried that they were about to pop off to the hairdresser for a blue rinse and perm – at the age of 25.

And to what did these young women aspire? 2.4 children and a happy marriage.

That was their raison d’etre. That is all they actually wanted, and every social event seemed to be a possibility for meeting up with the intended one.

The young woman started to chat. Her sister leaned over to me and said, “She’s got a new man!”

Intrigued as to where she had met the wonderful new bod, I asked her a few questions and she explained that she had been at a party and just clicked with this bloke. He seemed pleasant enough according to this young woman; a little quiet and reserved but essentially, decent company.

“He’s not quite the man of my dreams, and is certainly not marriage material” said the woman, “but I suppose he will do for now”.

And I sank deep into my chair, only to pipe up, “But is he a good snogger and more?” to which she smiled and said, “Definitely”.

At the other end of the table was an older man who was explaining to another who he was and how he was connected to the Birthday Boy. He told his companion that he had been happily married for over forty years but had been trying to find a blond mistress for years – to no avail.

He was joking, of course, but was he? Satisfied with conformity and comfortable living he may have been but secretly was his jocular statement a real aspiration?

Immediately opposite me was a woman who had plenty to say. She appeared to be genuinely interested in people and listened attentively when others spoke. Explaining her history (isn’t it intriguing how much people feel a need to justify themselves through a regurgitation of their life story?), she mentioned that she had been married for twenty years before the relationship disintegrated. Her mother-in-law had responded to the news of her impending divorce to say that she always knew the marriage would fail. She had said as much on the day that she had married.

The woman laughed and said, “Actually I thought that 20 years was a sign of a relatively successful relationship!”

And she was right. Twenty years is a success of sorts. The greatest success, of course, is for all concerned to recognise that it had been a good innings but it was now time to return to the pavilion and wait for the next outing to the crease.

The same woman was there with her second husband.

Now this is something that I am genuinely interested in. What is it that makes people marry for a second time? Those who do it for a third, fourth or fifth in my humble opinion need to be sectioned!

Obviously, this excludes those who have lost their first spouse to death. I understand that some people like marriage and want to be married but if the first marriage has faltered, why on earth would you do it all over again?

Suzanne Moore wrote about marriage and civil partnerships in the newspaper this week and echoed my views from a couple of blogs ago, taking it a step further.

What is the point of it all?

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/oct/15/gay-marriage-conservative-tories?INTCMP=SRCH

In the article, she rightly argues against the Conservatives announcement that they were going to “allow” gay marriages.

She rightly argued that this isn’t a delightful dose of liberalism but a shackle to the homosexuals of the world to conform to the one thing that everyone allegedly aspires to, i.e. a lifelong marriage.

This is conformity and conservatism personified, and all the Tories are doing is enabling those who have been seriously abused and rejected in society to join the rest of us brainwashed masses in participating in the holy state of monogamy.

“Gone are the days of transgression or even deviation from the norm. Marriage is an institution set up to protect property and patriarchal rights that we choose to overlay with our need for sex, romance, passion and companionship. Extending this right to gay people may seem generous, and may still be seen by the haters as destroying the sanctity of marriage, but something else is going on. This is not about conservatives accepting homosexuality, but about making homosexuality conservative.”

What the hell have we come to?

Moore continues within the article to explain that she has issues with civil partnerships as well. She also argues that there should be the ability to have a straight civil partnership so that one can choose between having a civil partnership and being married.

I’m not sure what point there is in the differentiation. Of course, a civil partnership between either heterosexual or homosexual couples could be a legal security – in which case, why bother going through a ceremony? Why not just nip down to the Town Hall and sign a couple of documents?

If you want to declare your love and commitment to one another, then you can go the whole hog and place the official signing of documents within the marriage, declaring yourself off the shelf and unable to love outside that marriage ever again.

But honestly, is getting married really viable? Can anyone be so committed to another person that they can sign their life away with the complete totality of a life dedicated to one other person – knowing this for sure, as a fact?

It may possibly be the case in the twilight years but at the age when most people enter into matrimony I am completely convinced that this cannot be.

Moore suggests that there should be another way whereby if people want to sign a contract with one another or to declare their commitment, then perhaps they could have a ‘pick and mix’ of options for the ceremony or document signing.

Would more people go for this option? Possibly but it still does not overcome the idea that one person for life for many people is not what they want.

A friend of mine wanted to get married once but was only prepared to do so if his wife-to-be committed to regular sex, and on the proviso that if her interest and frequency to sex diminished in any way, then he was entitled to look elsewhere for that.

The married.

Needless to say, she went off sex and he found sexual stimulation elsewhere. So they ended up getting divorced.

But what would have happened should she have agreed to this in writing? Would they have stayed together for longer had it been signed and sealed, stating that this was an integral part of the contract? Would they have happily worked, lived and loved together with a few ground rules forever?

I’m not completely convinced on this either but it may have worked.

Take polyamory – ah yes, back to that one. Wouldn’t it be easier for all concerned if the ground rules are established at the beginning; where everyone concerned knows the precise situation and that the established relationship is clearly the most significant? (hee hee)

Wouldn’t polyamory work more effectively if those involved in the initial relationship were more or less committed to a continuous relationship, with others being involved but not taking away from the first relationship in longevity or intimacy?

It is just not that simple and every part of my rational mind knows it is as such.

You cannot legislate for feelings. You cannot sign contracts for a future that really could be just an illusion. You can be completely committed to a relationship but still not know what is about to bite you on the backside. You cannot rule out anything.

I like friendships that last. I am actually very committed to quality and long-lasting friendships.

I like the idea of meeting someone and knowing that they are going to be in your life, possibly, or even more than possibly, for the rest of your life.

I am just not sure that signing any piece of paper makes that friendship or relationship more viable and more likely to last for a lifetime, no matter what type of friendship or relationship it is.

Of course, we all want security apparently, and this is what we are actually looking for in a marriage or a civil partnership. The declaration of love is almost an aside. What we are actually saying is, “Sign this paper as a guarantee that I am going to be provided for should you decide to fuck off with someone else”.

Those who do not desire or need that security do not need to get married, and in some cases will only do so to placate or please that most significant person in their lives.

So what would this alternative non-conformist civil partnership pick and mix have in it?

Who knows but perhaps there could be a tick list of aspirations rather than complete expectations,

·         Thou shalt fuck whoever thou wants

·         Thou shalt be free to have dinner three times a week with another

·         Thou shalt sleep with the designated civil partner more than others

·         Thou shalt insist on independent financial arrangements whereby either party live independently from the other, and possibly in different accommodation

·         Thou shalt ensure the financial security of one another whilst having a pot of money available for your own personal use that outweighs any joint pot

·         Thou shalt go on holiday with the civil partner at least as frequently as with others

·         Thou shalt aim to bring children into the partnership with equal access at all times and this will not be contested in a court of law. This is an absolute

·         Thou shalt abide by all human rights articles, looking together at the full list and the implications of partnership prior to signing any document

·         Thou shalt be committed to compassionate living, ensuring that at all times empathy, trust and lovingkindness is the absolute of the partnership

And so the list would go on, but it still does not resolve this entire issue of signing a piece of paper that essentially ties you to another person, and no matter how much you love someone or how well you feel as though you know them, can this ever be a realistic commitment?

Maybe I am too cynical.

If only the entire world was slightly more enlightened, including myself.

If the world would ‘conform’ to my non-conformity, then I would be such a happier person, but I cannot convince myself that the world is ready for such a relaxation of the expected mode of behaviour. I cannot convince myself that the people at the centre of my own issues are really as non-conformist as they suggest.

Suzanne Moore states that she does not want to get married or enter into a civil partnership.

“Personally, I don't like marriage. I share the feminist critique of its history of sexism and patriarchy. I would not want to get married. But as a democrat and human rights defender, I support the right of others to marry. This is a simple issue of equality. The ban on same-sex marriage is discrimination and discrimination is wrong, full stop.”

I am with her but I go a step further.

The reason that we do not get to know ourselves, the reason why we do not always believe in ourselves or develop a greater sense of equilibrium is that we have been told throughout our lives that there is one way to be, i.e. in a relationship, and if we are either not in a relationship or unhappy within one, then we do not feel fulfilled.

We do not allow time to find ourselves before we find others. We cannot know who we are at a young age. We are not completely sure of who we are at any time in our lives though I am convinced that those who are older have a far greater idea of who they are.

My point is that it is bordering on an infringement of human rights.

Consider this.

If the default position was that we did not expect or aspire to part of a couple or a partnership, then would be more engaged in finding ourselves and loving ourselves, and in doing so, I suspect we would all be better partners and friends should we choose to spend the majority of our time with one or many others.

 If we choose to commit to one person for the rest of our lives, then that is a choice. If we choose to commit to one person for a part of our lives then that too would be a choice.

If we choose to have multiple relationships that also would be a lot easier because everyone would be truly independent in their own right with no expectations and therefore would be far more contented with the sharing of each other.

Those accused of serial monogamy where it is suggested that they are lacking in some way would not be stuck with this abhorrent label.

If we chose to formalise such arrangements of partnership as a security for either the individuals involved or the children from such a partnership, then that makes a certain amount of sense.

But ultimately, our lives are own and that is not really legislated for at all.

On a personal note, I know what is right but I am also very aware that I am living under a brainwashed existence where decades of conformity are gradually being eroded. But it is never just about my own personal journey. It is about the views, expectations and assumptions of others too, and that is where it is more difficult.

I am not sure that I can be as non-conformist as I want to because of the expectation of friends and family. I am not completely happy with others being non-conformist because of onlookers assumptions about their friendships with others – because it is not just me who is brainwashed.

Whether we like it or not, people think and assume no matter how many times we tell them that there is nothing more than friendship happening. Other people look and put two and two together to make the wholly conformed number of one.

With my solution being independence for all, this would be eradicated, I think!

But then I am a little bit of an idealist.

Returning to the people that I met at the family celebration, I wonder what they would make of the non-conformist way of living.

The 25 year old woman would just enjoy the relationship she is about to have with this man without worrying about his credentials as a father or lover. She would just get on with enjoying the snogs and the fucks immediately.

The older guy would go and have his dalliance or even a longer term relationship with his younger blond. The twice married woman would not have had to go through the difficulties of divorce and would not have had to marry once more unless that had been her choice.

As for me, well my life would be so much happier.

This non-marriage existence in life does not and would not mean that you could no longer have one significant person in your life. That could still happen but it would not be seen as the default. Furthermore, even if you did find a significant other or a soul-mate, it would not preclude others enjoying their company, their sexuality, their vitality because they can still maintain a relationship with you and you would still be contented because ultimately your life is about you.

Perhaps this is my real aspiration in life – for me, for all.

I am sure many would see flaws and pitfalls but it is certainly worth considering, and thank you Ms Moore for making me think a little further into it.

Shadow of the Sexual

It’s all over the news again – that sex thing.

I wonder why.

People bang on about the fact that there is too much sex on television, too many sexual commentaries on news items and too much availability on the internet to children and young people.
Whilst doing this they avoid the truth of the fact that sex is a fascinating and integral part of life which is the very reason that it is so prominent in the news. Whilst doing this, they avoid the truth that the reason it is in the news is because people are interested in it. Whilst doing this, they avoid the truth that they actually want to be able to understand and participate in sexual activities even if they are not ready to admit it.

We are human beings and the last time I looked in a biology text book, this makes us animals with all the instinctual behaviour of animals, which includes sex.

What differentiates us from other animals is that we have additional skills, attitudes and abilities to make sex far more than a mere act of procreation. We have the capacity to enjoy it, revel in it, engage in the sensuality of it and appreciate sex for all the brilliance that it is.

This week, sex has been prominent in the news and I could write an individual blog on each of these subjects, and in time probably shall.

We have had a report on sex education commissioned by Brook with a conclusion that children and young people want better sex education lessons with one in five stating that the lessons that they did receive were poor or despicable.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/oct/10/how-good-is-sex-education

There is the fact that the government wants a clamp down on the availability of porn for young people with internet providers offering a viable means of blocking sites whilst children are surfing the big wide open world of the internet.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-15252128

The news on the weekend was filled with reports about Amanda Knox; the young woman accused of murdering her flat mate in Italy, only to be released from prison this week as there was insubstantial evidence to convict her. It was suggested that this was a case of sexual exploration gone horribly wrong and there was also the implication that this woman was slightly deranged because of her overt sexuality. More on this later.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/oct/09/carole-cadwalladr-amanda-knox-kercher?newsfeed=true (excellent article)

And today on the BBC news, there is further news that the corporation have forced the organisers of Erotica Exhibition 2011 to change their “Strictly Come Dancing” theme as it is distasteful and could give the Beeb a bad name.

http://www.metro.co.uk/tv/876899-bbc-threatens-to-sue-over-strictly-come-dancing-themed-erotica-show

Oh dear, oh dear. And these are only the headline articles. There are plenty more and I suspect there will be more again tomorrow. Why? Because we are actually interested in the subject but please don’t tell anyone in case the admittance puts you in the realm of total weirdo who ought to be locked up for their outrageous views.

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In the sphere of education, we continually ignore the wishes of our children and young people, who evidently have a far better understanding of their needs than adults do. This is definitely the case as far as sex education is concerned. The recent report commissioned by Brook tells an all too familiar story where the needs of children and young people are practically disregarded by the people who are ‘in charge’ of developing a curriculum for them.

They do not want biological or factual information alone. They have the internet for that, and their friends and all the other means at their disposal which has always been the case. I suspect that the majority of pupils who come into ‘THE’ lesson about sex for the first time, already know how to have sex. They probably also know how to protect themselves from unsafe sex. They probably also have a relatively decent understanding of how to behave appropriately to people that they are attracted to. But what they do not necessarily have is the knowledge and the skills to work at all kinds of relationships and friendships. What they definitely will not have, and will not receive in school, is a feeling of sexual empowerment, of an understanding of how great sex can be, of the delights of knowing one’s own body and of knowing and understanding all of this in relation to their age and maturity.

We do not do sex well. We do not discuss it sensibly as adults let alone as children. Surely it is time for us to listen to the younger generation and break the unhealthy mould of shying away from this most vital of subjects.

No sooner had this been reported that there was information about how the government intends to make parental computer blocks easier and more readily available. The key internet providers have come together to back a call for greater security on the internet to prevent young people getting access to the masses of pornography sites that are available at the click of a button.

This all sounds relatively reasonable. I do not think I would want my eight year old to be scavenging around the internet looking at cock and cunts enjoying all sorts of adult loveliness. However, and I know this may be controversial, I would not have a problem with my fourteen year old having a look as part of his exploration into his sexuality. Why do I feel like this? Well because sex is obviously something that you share with other people but it is also an integral part of your being. At this rate, we are never going to be liberated enough to discuss sex and relationships appropriately in a school setting, so where are they going to learn who they are, what turns them on, what their particular passion is?

Where are young women going to learn what their pussies look like if we shy away from the fact that they are entitled to know what is going on down there? Where are young men going to learn what excites them? Learning about your own sexual desires is really important. I spent years shying away from what turned me on. I can only imagine how different my life might have been if I had discovered my sexual preferences for myself, on my own at a much earlier age. Had I been given the sort of opportunities that are available to young people now.

At the tender age of fourteen, it wasn’t that I was not interested. I just had no means of accessing the sort of information, images and excitement that young people do now. If only, if only I had known then........

I am not condoning a complete open book as far as pornography is concerned. I am not suggesting that children should be anywhere near these websites but I am suggesting that we have to accept that pornography is here. It is available. It is in their lives and I am not convinced that prohibition on any subject has ever worked. What we do by putting blocks on teenagers looking at such sites is perpetuate the myth that sex is dirty, that women who enjoy sex are sluts, that horniness is something that should be suppressed.

If we could just get over the instinctual response to sex and accept the fact that we are sexual beings, then we might be able to free our minds to pay more attention to how we function effectively and lovingly within all our relationships which would hopefully ensure a greater contentedness within the individual and ultimately within society.

So that brings us onto Amanda Knox.

I cannot make this case out. I cannot decide whether it is a massive case of injustice or whether there is more to the innuendos of involvement of these two young people who were acquitted of involvement into Meredith Kercher’s murder, and I am not here to make such a comment. I don’t know whether they were guilty or not.

What I do have concerns about is that Knox has been painted as a She-Devil because she was overt about her sexuality. She enjoyed sex but this does not make her a sadistic woman who is interested in sexually erotic behaviour bordering on destruction and murder. She liked sex. She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was a sexual being. She owned a rabbit – not the furry one, but the one that rogers you excitedly when desired with the aid of a couple of batteries. She bought condoms – sensible girl – so that she was safe from unwanted diseases and protected from the problems of bare-back riding in a sexually active group of people. She kissed her boyfriend and hugged him when she discovered the fatal nightmare that had happened in her flat because she implicitly understood the importance of human touch.

Does all of this make her a murderer?

There is a possibility that these people were involved in some sort of kinky stuff, and not because they had had decades of access to internet porn, I hasten to add. They may well have enjoyed multiple partners or shared sexual experiences that went beyond coupledom.

So what? Does that too really make either Knox or her boyfriend capable of murder?

I love sex. I love looking at horny people having sex. This does not make me a bad person. It might make me a little desperate for a shag from time to time, but that in itself does not mean that I am going to pounce on the nearest person and seduce them into giving me one. Sex is actually far more important to me than that. I can and do restrain myself from imposing my sexuality on others, within reason.

The article from the newspaper (link above) reiterates this point, and does so brilliantly. It is not often that you get a newspaper article that you agree with almost entirely but this is one. It really does concern me that young women who seem to have understood sex, who appear to be sexually enlightened are suddenly made out to be a whore. I wish to goodness I had found my sexuality at Amanda Knox’s age too. Not only did I not discover who I was as a teenager, I am not sure that I did when I was Knox’s age either.

But getting back to the first story, how are young people ever going to work out their sexuality if they do not have access to quality relationship education and if there are prohibitions imposed from people who just do not understand or are unwilling to appreciate the importance of sex and relationships in our lives?

The final link on this page relates to the Erotica Exhibition 2011, to be held in London from the 18^th – 20^th November. Get it in the diary. Got to go!

The BBC has objected to the sexualisation of Strictly Come Dancing?

Are they completely bonkers? Do they think we are completely bonkers? Is there nobody within the corporation who has considered that there are some people who watch the programme precisely because it is a legitimate way of seeing stunning men and women cavorting in extremely sexual costumes, revealing their beautifully toned legs and voluptuous boobs?

You cannot get away from the fact that Strictly Come Dancing has an element of sexuality within it. And they play on that, and not in a particularly unconscious way. It is explicit.

Personally, I do not get particularly turned on by the programme, but there have been times when I have enjoyed the sexuality of the programme. There are times when I have looked at some of the women dancing around and thought, “I wouldn’t mind running my hands around that one!”.

So if Erotica UK want to home in on the interest of the moment and convey a theme that has surely passed through the heads of some Come Dancing viewers, then what the hell is wrong with that?
I would really love the BBC to be honest enough to admit that there is a sexual element to the show and agree that Erotica UK can offer something more adult that an alleged family programme in the Saturday night entertainment slot cannot do. They should be honest enough to say, “Yes, I know there are people out there who like the sexuality of the show but this is something that we cannot explore too much in the programme. So if you want to tickle your taste buds and make your fantasy into a reality, then go along to the Erotica exhibition and experience what some of you are probably imagining every Saturday evening”.

Or words to that effect.

Once more, we have a classic example of shying away from sex, but what makes this worse is the hypocrisy. They use sex to sell their programme and then categorically deny its sexuality when someone has the wisdom to realise that it is implicit in the whole genre.

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Sex is here, and hopefully it is not going to go away but we have got to stop shying away from its importance in our lives.

It is important for young people on their journey. It is important to the people who have sex specifically to entertain others. It is important to all manner of people and it is important to our great institutions too.

The other day, a friend of mine was talking to me about another friend and her bizarre lies about where she has been and who she has been with.

“Perhaps she just has a high libido” said one of the friends in discussing this woman, and there was much giggling.

I wanted to scream, “So bloody what!”

It is absolutely clear to me that this woman has a high libido, and having recently come out of a long term relationship, she wants to make the most of something that has probably been suppressed for far too long. But what is really sad about this situation is that she cannot admit to it. She is mindful enough to know that in a provincial town where many people know when their next-door neighbour has picked their nose, she cannot explicitly announce that she is a sexual woman who enjoys a decent fuck.

So she has to involve herself in a complicated deceit, denying her sexual experiences, denying her sexual desires for the sake of shielding herself from further abuse.

All involved are shying away from sex.

As for me, I asked my beautiful lover the other day whether he minded me asking for sex. His response was that he was delighted that I still found him sexually exciting and of course there was no problem in asking for sex.

But there is.

Because I have been so conditioned by my lack of sex and relationship education, by a lifetime of not understanding my rights to be sexual being, by a society that chooses to derogatorily label a woman with a high libido, that I still feel uncomfortable about asking for sex.

I still feel slightly uncomfortable about stating the fact that I would like to have sex anywhere, anytime, any position, any kinky way I fancied.

I am so conditioned to thinking that actually a good little girl does not ask for sex because we should be a little demure about it all.

We all shy away from sex. We all shy away from the importance of sex. We shy away from the fact that children and young people are the sexual future and we are still making them shy away from sex in the way that many previous generations did.

I am not saying that I want to see people having sex all over the place. I just wish people were more honest about it. Until we get that sort of honesty, we are never going to come to terms with other important components of life regarding sexuality and relationships and living harmoniously.

Sex cannot be shied away from and my little venture into the main stories of the week hopefully demonstrate this.

I am a sexual woman, I want sex, I love sex, I love human touch, I love kissing, I love feeling the warmth and tenderness of another human being.

I do not want to shy away from my sexuality and I genuinely do not want others to shy away from theirs.

And if we, the sexually enlightened (or at least taking a foot along the journey) do not speak up we are going to get other generations following the wrong pathway too.

Forced Marriage

Forced Marriage

The government has made an announcement today that they want to make forced marriages illegal. I have to confess that I thought that forced marriages were already illegal but apparently there is insufficient stringency in existing law to prevent this abhorrent practice from happening.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-15235649

http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2011/oct/10/david-cameron-immigration-crackdown?INTCMP=SRCH

As if forced marriage wasn’t bad enough, can you imagine what it must be like to be a young woman living a relatively contented and peaceful life in Asia suddenly finding herself shipped over to the cold and heartless land of Britain, to be placed in a situation where she is living with someone and sleeping with someone for the first time and she doesn’t want to be here?

Can you imagine what it must feel like? Can you imagine what it must feel like to sleep night after night with a man that you find quite disgusting? Can you imagine if that man then tries to have sex with you when you have never experienced sex with another and are quite frankly terrified of this oppressive invasion of your being? Can you imagine having to do what your husband and your family say without any possibility of being your own person?

Can you imagine this?

It is not a story that is a fable and a figment of imagination that some racist conjures up. This is happening to far too many women.

Of course it is wrong, of course it is abhorrent and of course Cameron is right to strengthen the law to protect these women. However, as there always is with this government, I would have been far happier with this announcement if it hadn’t come as part of a package on immigration. If he had been speaking about the rights of all young women, for instance, then it might have been more credible. However, fair do’s. At least it has brought this vile practice to the attention of the media and the general public.

But let us look at this a little closer. Where should one stop? Should we ban just forced marriage or should we consider banning arranged marriages as well? Or perhaps we might consider banning marriage altogether?

Let’s look once more at those questions.

Can you imagine what it must feel like? Can you imagine what it must feel like to sleep night after night with a man that you find quite disgusting? Can you imagine if that man then tries to have sex with you when you have never experienced sex with another and are quite frankly terrified of this oppressive invasion of your being? Can you imagine having to do what your husband and your family say without any possibility of being your own person?

Can you imagine this?

Yes, I am sure that there are plenty of women who can imagine this because this is the reality of their own marriages, be it forced, arranged or entered into of their own volition.

Whatever way you look at it, marriage is a shackle that restricts personal freedom, even for those who are happily ensconced in coupledom. Even those who are blissfully happy have to acknowledge that there is a part of themselves that has been lost to the very state of two-ness.

I’m biased. I admit it, and I am genuinely not trying to be flippant here.

If we were starting society now for the first time, I doubt very much that we would see marriage as the aspirational modes of living that so many imply that it is.

Why not marriage then? For the very reasons mentioned above. It’s abhorrent.

When you sign that contract, you lose something of yourself. You may not feel it at the time. You may be all stoical and consider that it is a bond that embraces the fact that you love another human being to the point of never wanting to be parted from them. But is this really the only way to demonstrate this, even if this in itself is a realistic thought in the first place? Isn’t the greatest love to acknowledge that the person you love is a human being in their own right?

A marriage does restrict. A marriage by the nature of the beast places two people together in a contract. In doing so, two become one. That is the beast. That is what marriage is.

Marriage means that all decisions apparently have to be shared. Marriage means that you cannot go off and do what you like without considering the needs of another human being.

Now, don’t get me wrong here. I happen to believe that any relationship and any friendship has to consider the needs of others. That is what friendship is about but the obligation within marriage puts such personal needs on a different dimension. It diminishes them to the point that individual needs are almost non-existent.

So sad.

So yes, forced marriages are despicable. I have met a couple of women who have had forced marriages. I also went to school with people who suddenly, at the age of fifteen, disappeared off the face of the earth, only to reappear a few years later with a ring on the finger and a couple of kids in tow. I remember one poor girl who was a bright young thing, terribly shy and timid and yet once she had gained her confidence with a small group of people, had the most wonderful sense of humour. Just as we had got to know her, just as she had found her voice and her light, she vanished, never to return, having been flown over to Pakistan to marry a cousin. It was truly shocking.

I wonder what happened to her and whether she ever returned to the UK.

But what of arranged marriages? Again, I am not being flippant but if there has to be such an institution of marriage then this arranged marriage is probably not a bad thing, especially if there is a clause within the marriage that says you can go off and bonk whoever you want, enjoying the full force of your sexuality with others if that is what takes your fancy. Arranged marriages to ‘protect the line’ or make a viable contract between two families wouldn’t seem so bad if all involved could agree that it was simply a business arrangement. After all, isn’t this what royal families have been doing for centuries?

The other day, there was a programme on the radio about the marriage arrangements for Queen Elizabeth, the virgin queen (why was she so named when it is clear from all records that she had a perfectly healthy and fulfilled libido, thank you very much?). All was arranged for her to marry her Frenchman (lucky gal) despite the language problem because it would strengthen both countries against the dreaded Spanish. Only there was a slight stumbling block. He was a staunch Catholic who refused to renege on his devotion to the Papa.

Sometimes, there are insurmountable differences in personal philosophy, and indeed religion.

Seriously though, who in their right minds can possibly suggest that arranged marriages are a good idea? How can any other human being, even a family member, especially a family member, know another human being well enough to make such a huge decision for them? It’s pretty abhorrent too really, isn’t it?

I appreciate that there are cultural and religious adherences that make this practice happen but it doesn’t make it right.

People are people and nobody can possibly tell another human being what to think, what to feel, what to do and certainly nobody should tell another human being that they have to live the rest of their lives with a person that their family deem to be the right choice.

Whatever happened to personal choice?

So that brings us to a chosen marriage where both parties are in agreement to the contract.

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I am not quite the same person as I was when I was 25. I was a different person at 35 too and I was a series of different people at 45!

The choices that I made about many things at the age of 25 were different from the ones I might make now. I made a choice to marry in my late twenties and whilst it was not an arrangement or a forced marriage, there was certainly an expectation from family, friends, society for me to do the honourable thing and stick that ring on my finger.

Marriage is an expectation, to the point that people aspire to it, even late in life because that is what they think they ought to do.

Yesterday, Sir Paul McCartney got married for the third time. There is always the possibility that had his dear Linda not passed away he might have only had one wife. However, she sadly succumbed to the dreaded cancer. So he married once more.

Surely having endured what the onlooker conceived as a challenging union one would possibly consider not getting married again, but some people seem to be addicted to the whole concept.

Why isn’t it enough for some people to just accept that they are committed to one another without the need to declare it to the world? But that is what people expect. Other people have expectations, marriage or not. Other people assume, and one of the assumptions people make is that if two people love one another then surely they must eventually settle down together into coupledom and get married.

I am suggesting, albeit slightly flippantly, that there is a possibility that every marriage is forced or arranged by the very fact that societal expectation forces us to think in a tunnel or a box and a closed one at that, with only one viable means of expressing commitment and love to another.

I am suggesting that marriage is forced and that this whole notion of conjoining is something that in any other part of life would be seen as an invasion of privacy and in direct contradiction to the Human Rights articles.

Calling marriage slavery may go a little far, although in some forced marriage situations, it sadly happens. However, shackles is shackles, and once a person feels those shackles, then it really is time to get the key and get the hell out.

So why is Zenpuss writing about this? What has this to do with sexuality, which is what I am most interested about?

Well, I am also concerned about women and their rights, and I am also concerned about human beings and how they can live the best life possible. I happen to believe that sexuality is a key component of a good life, and if I had restricted my sexuality to the marriage that I was in, then I would have lived a half life.

We are only here once. Yes, we fuck up. Yes, we all make huge mistakes. Yes, we all have choices and sometimes we make the right choices too, and anyone who makes a choice to be sexually enlightened is making a right choice, even if it contravenes all those societal rules and contractual arrangements.

No piece of paper should stand between me and my sexuality. No piece of paper should suggest that I cannot be the person that I am and that I want to be. No piece of paper or ring around my finger should prevent me from doing anything.

And yet it did.

Yes, I entered into marriage freely, though I have to say there was a huge expectation that I would do this, and I know for a fact that decades on people still feel that expectation rather than desire. However, if you look at this institution objectively, it cannot possibly be right.

Restrictions, shackles, just not being completely yourself, ever, means that marriage, whatever type it is, feels as though it lacks liberty.

Forced marriages are merely an exacerbation of this feeling; arranged ones, a convenience for those involved.

We expect marriage in this society and we expect conformity but what we tend to forget is that there are individual human beings within this, and as ever, we always forget the needs of the individual, and we certainly forget the sexual needs of the individual.

The Curious Case of Mrs Christine Hemming

At first glance this seems a simple case; an upset and jilted wife seeking revenge on the woman who has ‘stolen’ her husband.

Her revenge? She broke into the house of her husband’s lover, stole her cat and crept back down the garden to escape. Embarrassingly, there was CCTV footage that has done the rounds on the internet. Any reader can google and find it but for my own reasons, I don’t want to further humiliate the woman by posting the link. I am sure that there are plenty of bloggers and media outlets who have already done so.

I listened to the news as I was driving on Friday. There seemed a certain caginess about the report that made me wonder whether there was something more to this story than a mere case of infidelity.

And so it turned out to be.

John Hemming is a Liberal Democrat MP who apparently has a distinct eye for the ladies. He had been married for 30 years and within that time he’d had numerous extra-marital affairs. He was indeed so proud of his dalliances that he nominated himself for the News of the Screws “Love-Rat of the Year” in 2005.

Weird guy!

Mrs. Hemming knew all about his relationship with his lover. She ‘shared’ him, stipulating that she could cope with his infidelities if he could just come home each night to sleep with her. She had accepted that this man was incapable of a monogamous relationship and had done the decent thing, enabling him to have time away from her, enjoying the closeness of an additional relationship in his life.

This probably all went wrong because he was reneging on the original arrangement, and obviously I am surmising here, to spend more days and possibly nights with his lover.

As an onlooker, we do not know the story. Nobody knows or is entitled to know about the arrangements, thoughts and feelings within other peoples’ relationships. We can make all sorts of naive and ill-informed assumptions but it is only the people involved that know the truth, and even then that is not always the case. Sometimes the people involved do not fully understand the situation, how they feel and what they can cope with. Theory is often far different from reality, and there is also the issue within such complexities that your feelings can alter from one minute to the next.

Such complexities are so named because they are not simple. They require trust and honesty, and yet however much we might want it to be different, sometimes honesty is not possible because we simply do not know how we feel from one moment, one day to another. Feelings, as I said, can fluctuate.

But what really interests me about this case is the reporting in the press.

At first, there was a veiled, almost embarrassed reporting that this polyamorous situation had emerged. Surely real people don’t live like this? Isn’t this sort of behaviour reserved for the trailer trash in the US of A or the Mormons? Surely no middle aged, middle class woman would ever agree to such madness? Surely nobody in their right mind would want to share their special person with another?

But this is precisely the decision that Christine Hemming had taken.

Nobody knows why she did this but it could have been for a number of reasons. She may have been polyamorous herself and this arrangement allowed her to have her own dalliances or intimate relationships with others. She may have felt it was the only way to keep her man; by enabling him to have the sort of freedom he craved, knowing that he would still return to her – after all, he had history of doing so, and we are all creatures of habit be it monogamy, serial monogamy, polyamory or a succession of one-night stands.

Or maybe, she was cajoled or bribed into making this decision, against her will, either knowingly or not. Maybe she didn’t really want her man at all but didn’t want to create havoc for her children. Or maybe she asked for this arrangement just to be vindictive. If she wasn’t going to be happy with the arrangement, then she was damn sure her husband wasn’t going to be either.

The truth is that we do not know why and how this triangle of relationships happened but in the press, there has been an automatic assumption that this woman has ‘endured’ the perpetual cheating husband, without any of us knowing how and why such an arrangement occurred.

What we do know, due to the aforementioned CCTV footage, is that this woman finally cracked.

When we are out of our comfort zones we sometimes act out of our natural behaviour zones too.

Three days prior to this break-in (which incidentally wasn’t a break-in in the strictest sense of the word because she apparently had keys to the property and no windows or doors were broken to gain entrance) Christine Hemming had finally decided that she could no longer cope with this situation. She finally decided that she did not want to be in a marriage with this man. Maybe he finally realised that he did not want her and was only maintaining the relationship out of obligation or out of fear of losing something other than the intimacy with his wife.

She had cracked. She had been with the man for thirty years. That’s a hell of a long time. I’m beginning to think that the habit of being with one, two, three or however many partners becomes established relatively quickly so losing a partner after such a long time can certainly be tumultuous.

And then there are the dreaded destructive emotions. In this case, it appears that they reared their ugly head to the point where Mrs Hemming was not in control, was been driven by darker forces and did not fully understand what she was doing.

In her defence, she said she had no idea what she was doing at the house, whether she intended to ‘take’ anything and even once she had taken the cat, she had no idea why and considered walking back into the house immediately to return it.

She was not in control.

So the media finally conceded that these polyamorous situations do exist in this country but oh how weird they are, and let’s emphasise this as much as the madness of a jilted wife. The caginess of reporting gave way to the sensationalism of this unconventional relationship genre, with a certain sneering at all involved in such a decision. How could the wife let this happen? How could the man really split his loyalties and love between two people? How could the lover deal with the fact that she could never spend a night with her man? How could the wife or the lover call Mr. Hemming ‘their man’ when it was evident that he was two peoples’ ‘man’ or where it was even more evident that he was nobody else’s man because possessing in another human being is wholly unnatural, even with a bloody marriage certificate.

And once they had conceded that this was a situation that all had agreed to, then the media had to look at it all with incredulity. This should not be. It was against the natural order, etcetera, etcetera.

Wouldn’t it have been wonderful if the whole situation had been reported differently?

Wouldn’t it have been truly sensational if the media had not made the conformed assumptions and simply accepted this as a feasible way of living, that like so many relationships it just happened to go wrong, not because polyamory was unworkable but because some relationships have a shelf-life.

Wouldn’t it also have been wonderful if this situation had never made its way to court? Wouldn’t it have been far better for all involved, including all the children within this arrangement, for the three people to sit down and talk quietly with one another, with the husband and the lover respecting and acknowledging the upset and emotions that were insanely driving the wife?

And this is something that the newspapers could not possibly contemplate. I have yet to see one comment regarding whether this was a case that required prosecution. Don’t get me wrong. I am not condoning breaking in or causing havoc to another persons’ life but it is somewhat understandable. Can anyone really say they have gone through the break-up of a relationship without any glimmer of destructive emotions or associated feelings?

Not one comment about this in the newspapers, other than a sack of sympathy for Mrs. Hemming in a pitiful and in my opinion patronising manner. Not one paper or television outlet has suggested that this should not have been a case for the courts or media. Not one commentator has stated that this could have been sorted sensitively by all concerned if only the three people involved could have acknowledged their wrongdoings and sorted it out between themselves.

Yes, Mrs. Hemming was acting in a destructive manner but at some point either the husband or the lover must have done the same by contacting the police in the first instance and then continuing with a vengeful stance by insisting on prosecution.

However, the saddest thing about this as far as Zenpuss is concerned is that it is yet another example of where a relatively sensible polyamorous arrangement has gone wrong.

My head tells me that polyamory is right. It is the honest way of living rather than pretending that we are capable of having one partner for life. My polyamory is different to others. I still think that you can have a significant other whilst remaining wholly committed to a polyamorous life. Others think differently but I just want to see it work! And the hopeless hopeful in me wants the press to report on it working too.

It would be so wonderful to get some examples out there on how it does work but the problem is that where it is working, people are too frightened to come out and admit that they are living in this polyamorous way because it is not the done thing, and what would the rest of the world think of them?

I am not about to embark on a confession of my own, and nor would I advocate that others do this without thoroughly considering the consequences of such a disclosure, but it really would be rather helpful, both personally and socially, to find an example of where polyamory actually works.

And until that happens we will continue to get the mockery within the press, we will continue to ridicule those who engage in such arrangements, suggesting that they are weak-willed or pathetic to agree to such an existence, rather than acknowledge that this is something that they have entered into thoughtfully. We will continue to have the “I told you so” mentality when it all goes belly-up, and as a consequence we will perpetuate that age-old myth of monogamy.

Or maybe I have got it all wrong after all.

No, I just want an example of where polyamory works, in real life, not in Hollywood or the likes. I just want to see one decent example of how it can work effectively so that it can be a shining example of how one could live a successfully intimate life.

And I suppose I partly want that example to be me.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/oct/02/cat-theft-paris-fashion-immigration?newsfeed=true

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-birmingham-15115033

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And finally, here is a photo I found whilst googling for some photos. For the pedants, lexicographers and linguists amongst us, what should we make of this?

Another blog I think.