My Husband Stays Home With Our Child While I Have Sex With Other Men
And I return the favor
I bend down and pucker my lips. My three year old abandons Blue’s Clues just long enough to run and give me a kiss with an exaggerated “MWAH!”
“Bye bye, Mommy!” She runs back just in time to catch the Mail Song.
With a hand on each cheek, I give my partner of ten years a kiss too — a little longer, a lot more substantial.
“I love you! I’ll let you know when I get there.”
“Love you too! Have fun!”
I grab my purse and head for the front door.
It’s filled with condoms. And lubricant.
And a spare Viagra, just in case.
How did we get here?
The first time non-monogamy was discussed between us, it was a joke.
We had been together for about three years and were recently engaged. A friend of ours had been pursued by a particularly creepy guy who had suggested that the two of them try swinging. This poor, innocent girl was unfamiliar with the concept, and it fell on my partner to explain it to her.
As he recounted the story to me over popcorn, we laughed.
“Would you ever do something like that? You never know, maybe you’d be into that!” he asked me, already knowing the answer.
“No way! I can barely handle you some days.” We snickered and moved on with our life.
But the question stuck in both our minds.
We took turns asking each other that same question about once every six months for the next five years or so. Always as a casual question, maybe after seeing an article about an open relationship or a highly improbable threesome in a TV show.
But each time, the question carried a little more weight. Each time, we would — with slightly more thought and hesitation — reject the idea.
Until we didn’t.
I don’t even remember who asked the question the last time.
But one day, the conversation changed.
“Could you see us in an open relationship?”
“…Yeah, maybe.”
“Wait, really!?”
That moment changed everything.
Where could we go from there? What did it all mean? How does this even work?
Like any self-respecting Millennials, we went to the internet.
We spent a couple of weeks sorting through an overwhelming mountain of information and sending each other links. We read until our brains were numb. I scrolled through several months’ worth of posts on the Nonmonogamy subreddit.
As it turns out, there are a ton of types of non-monogamy. Originally, I think I had a vague vision of a Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy where we were allowed to seize an opportunity if we were out of town, but didn’t actually have to confront any kind of jealousy or insecurities. Thank goodness for the wisdom of the internet hivemind, as I’m convinced that would have crashed and burned. Hollie April has a good, succinct explanation as to why in this story in Polyamory Today:
My husband read a suggestion that couples considering non-monogamy should start out as swingers.
My initial reaction was a resounding ew. Images of key parties bombarded my mind, complete with shag rugs and fluffy sideburns. Plus, the whole thing just seemed so transactional and misogynistic. Like, you can sleep with my wife if I can sleep with yours, right? Gross.
But I promised I’d look into it. Back to Reddit, I went. This time, I immersed myself in r/Swingers. I’m so glad I did.
I learned pretty quickly that the modern swinging community focuses very heavily on consent, never “taking one for the team,” and women often taking the lead in interactions. The more I read, the more enticing it became. I agreed to give it a shot.
After some failed flirtation and being stood-up on the only date we’d arranged with a couple from the Feeld app, we stumbled upon a swingers club a couple of hours away from us. Actually, in a town we had previously lived in (we may have jumped in much sooner had we known we were right down the street from it!), so we were comfortable and familiar with the area. We bought tickets to an event about a month in advance, and spent an entire month alternating between totally hyped and super anxious. We joined the club’s private Facebook group and actually found a tight knit community of super cool people.
We asked my mom to watch our kid so we could go out of town for a friend’s “engagement party.” Not a lie. A lot of people were engaged in an awful lot of activities.
Come party day, our hearts were racing.
The whole drive there, we were taking deep breaths and fidgeting. The venue was very well hidden, down a nearly invisible dirt driveway cutting through dense trees. You could not see the place at all from the main road. After passing the turn-off and having to U-turn a few times, we eventually pulled in and parked. We held each other’s hands.
“Are we really doing this right now?” my spouse asked.
I told him I estimated there was a 30% chance we’d walk in the door and immediately freak out and turn back around.
This could go one of two ways. Either we’d have a sexy, thrilling, secret new hobby, or we’d have a hilarious story about that time we tried going to a swingers club. Win-win, if you ask me.
We went inside.
It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing. I’m not known for my social skills. When a man asked me if I wanted to go upstairs with him, I panicked. I pretended I didn’t hear him and bent down and played with my shoe until he went away. Which as you can imagine, took far longer than it should to adjust a shoe strap. It was awkward.
However, we got super lucky and met a couple who really took us under their wing. They chatted us up and laughed with us and just generally made us feel more comfortable. If they weren’t there, I can’t say with 100% certainly we’d be non-monogamous today.
These positive interactions really turned the tide of the night. We entered the party buzzing with anxiety, and left dripping with both a euphoric high and a whole lot of water. Our final hour of the party had been spent having sex with my husband in a hot tub, surrounded by sexy, naked bodies, and the whole tub taking turns making out with us while we put on a show.
It was insane.
It was amazing.
And as far as my mom knows, every single friend we’d ever had got “engaged” in rapid succession. That’s the only possible reason we could need an overnight babysitter that often.
We continued going to parties fairly regularly for the next year or so.
And then 2020 happened.
When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, parties ground to a halt. We needed a new plan.
Like everything else, 2020 upended our new lifestyle. We missed our parties. Not only for the sex, but for the unique connections we made with the other attendees.
We had always “played” (swinger code for sexual activities) together. There was a layer of connection and safety in that. However, groups were no longer safe.
After another round of research, book reading, and a six page typed agreement between the two of us, we took the plunge to start playing separately.
We took to dating apps.
My husband and I met before Tinder existed. I had no idea what I was doing.
After much googling, we discovered that OKCupid had options and settings for non-monogamy. You can even link your profile to your partner’s!
Writing a call-to-action asking people to send me their Marvel Cinematic Universe theories attracted many kindred geeks to me. Everything was going according to plan.
From there, it was much like monogamous dating, except early conversations always included in-depth questions about how each of us do non-monogamy, and what our expectations and boundaries are.
Eventually, each of us hit it off with a handful of different people. Today, we each have 2–3 extramarital partners who we see on a regular or semi-regular basis. Sometimes for sex, just as often just to hang out and connect with.
Sometimes when one of us returns, we sit and gossip about the juicy details. Sometimes we just ask, “Did you have fun?” and leave it at that.
I was a virgin when I met my husband.
It’s hard to describe the exhilaration of being able to explore my own sexuality in a way I’d never been able to before. Every new body is unique and beautiful. Each person has their own talents and ticks I am hungry to find all of them.
Though at the end of the day, my spouse is my forever person. He’s memorized every inch of my body and has loved it through extreme changes. New partners bring novelty and exploration, but my husband’s embrace is the place that feels like home.
