Tuesday is my regular date night with Writer, but this week, she was sick. A cold. We rescheduled for Thursday, in the hope she was feeling a little better. She wasn't. But I wanted to see her anyway, and I knew the feeling was mutual. We spent the evening chatting in her bedroom, ordered pizza, and played with the kitten they were fostering. She apologized for being sick and "such an exciting date."
She had warned me that morning that she may have an early night, but as far as I was concerned, it wasn't an issue. See, here's the thing. In the last few weeks, I have started dated her house-mate. Artist.
Writer and Artist have been together for over 10 years, both are single, and both are poly. They classify their relationship to each other as polyamorous, although there is no romantic element to it. Writer is bi, Artist is not.
I had texted Artist that day, inquiring if she had plans that evening. She is dating two other guys locally, so there is no telling if she would be home that evening. As it happened, she had no plans. I grinned, albeit, with a wee bit of guilt.
This is the first time I have dated two people who live under the same roof, and I am still getting used to it. The relationship between Artist and I has slowly developed over the two years I have been dating Writer. We had grown increasingly fond of each other, and had fooled around on a couple of occasions. There had been times when dating Writer, I found myself cuddled on the sofa next to Artist. In fact, Writer often encouraged it. Despite that, whenever the night drew to a close, it was always Writer's room I retired to. As far as I was concerned, it always felt rude to go on a date with one lady, and end up another one's bed. Writer didn't really care.
By the time Artist returned home last night, Writer was already zonked out. She came and cuddled with me on the chaise, and we chatted with the third roomie. He has lived with them for six months or so, and seems quite okay with all the "goings-on" that happens under the roof. A couple of weeks ago, he asked Writer "Are you okay with Artist moving in on your guy?"
, to which she replied, "Of course. Every one should have a Paul!"
. It made me smile.
As the living room in the process of being re-floored, we went up to Artist's room to watch a movie. We got more comfortable, which involved the removal of clothing. We chose a romantic movie, Gothika, and snuggled together on the bed. By the time the movie ended, Writer had woken up. She knocked on the bedroom door and entered. She took one look at us naked, asked: "Are you stealing my date?",
then handed Artist a kitten. After chatting briefly, she announced she was returning back to her slumber, and took possession of the kitten again. I joked, "You can keep the man, but I need the kitten"
. Artist laughed, and said, "I need kitten too."
. Writer glanced at me, presented the poor bewildered kitten, and informed me "Sorry. You're just not this cute"
, and left.
We put on another movie, but somehow, never made it through to the end.
And this is how we do poly.....