Ed Jaimes is a Sydneysider with a secret
You know that thing where you’re supposed to date for a while, settle down, have 2.5 children, and spend the rest of your life in marital bliss? Does that sound like you? Funny. It doesn’t sound like too many people I know these days. It certainly doesn’t sound like me.
I did it, though. I went to a private boys school, and before Year 12, didn’t have much contact with the opposite sex.
In Year 12, I met many girls at parties, out-and-about on weekends – I even dated one or two – before losing my virginity around the middle of the school year.
Shortly after, I discovered Emily. I was quite fond of her until I found out that she was dating another guy from my school. I’d heard from friends that she was having sex with him. I was surprised and hurt, so I ignored her. Remember this, because I’ll come back to it later on.
I dated on-and-off for a few years with no longterm relationship successes, until I met someone when I was 21. We dated for a couple of years, moved inter-State, married, and had a child together. However, two years later, we just couldn’t make it work. Were we too similar, or too different? Truth be told, I still don’t know, but it didn’t feel right and I knew I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with her.
We argued, we cried, we spoke, and we called it quits. Despite some initial issues, we now get along relatively well and our son sees and loves us both. I call that a good outcome.
I’ve now been in a relationship for around two years. I’m not married, and we don’t really have plans to change that either. We’ve spoken about it, sure, but we’re happy as we are. We’re also expecting a baby soon, which was not really planned, but not unplanned either. I’m just as excited this time as the first time – maybe even more so.
What’s so interesting about all of this?
You see, to an outsider, I may appear to be just an everyday bloke. Maybe I am. I’m 30-something, I work full-time with a great deal of responsibility, I’m relatively well paid, and I live a fairly comfortable and happy life.
I also do some things that are unusual. My partner and I are fairly open-minded. We share dirty photos of each other with people we know, and with people we don’t. We’ve had a threesome with a male friend – it wasn’t just him playing with my partner while I sat idly by, either; at one stage, my partner was masturbating us both, and the look of sheer pleasure (and power) in her eyes was a huge turn on.
I played with his junk as well, while masturbating with my own, and toward the end, my partner and I had sex while our male friend stroked my partner’s breasts and arse. It was a really exciting evening, which I look forward to repeating soon.
I fantasise about watching other men have sex with my partner. I fantasise about being able to have sex with other people as well. We’ve all but arranged for my partner to play with a male friend without me being involved, and assuming that goes well, we’ve discussed me having my opportunity too.
Society’s norms tell me that I should jealously protect what’s mine, and that I shouldn’t want to have sexual encounters with anyone else. These norms tell me that I should be disgusted by the fact that my partner might want to (or actually) have sex with someone else, and that if it were to happen, we should break-up.
Flashback to what happened when I was in Year 12: If I knew then what I know now, not only would I not have broken-up with Emily so quickly, I would probably have encouraged her to have a threesome with me and her other friend. Who knows, it might even have happened to this teenage dreamer.
I’m not a fan of society’s norms in this respect, and I’m glad, no, I’m grateful to have a partner who shares my views. Many of our friends have seen one or either of us naked, and some have told us they’ve enjoyed it.
Can I make one point clear though?
I don’t think I’m particularly attractive, or well-endowed (like a porn star). I think I’m a fairly average bloke. My partner is an attractive girl, and she certainly gets noticed in public, but she wouldn’t consider herself to be a supermodel. We’re both just average people with one major difference: we enable each other to desire and experience others. Rather than denying ourselves, we allow.
Some of our friends have similar beliefs and desires to ours, some don’t. Some of our friends are happy to sit and watch and that’s it, some of our friends would like to take it to the next level, and some of our friends would have absolutely no idea what goes on behind closed doors.
Life, I think, shouldn’t be defined by doing what everyone expects you to do. Sometimes, you have to give in to your wants and desires, and work them into your lifestyle. There’s little point running around screwing everything if you have a partner and intend to keep them. Equally, there’s no point suppressing your urges and desires just to keep one person happy, if you’re not.
Your partner should encourage you to be who you are, not change you to be the person they want. Equally, you should love your partner for who they are, not for who you think they can be if they put their life goals, wants, desires and ambitions to one side.
I hope to write more on relationships and what we do in ours.
I don’t care to encourage people to do as we do, nor do I expect the opposite, just to shine a light on something that many people consider: wrong, dirty, sinful, or just plain devious.
Secretly, we all get off to thoughts of other people. I just act on my mine.