Polyamory Is Not Adultery

Since I met her first, let me start with the woman. Helen was in her mid-forties when we first met. Though love colors perception, she is a woman of average height and size for someone her age. In spite of, or perhaps because of a serious health condition, she is an athletic woman who can keep up a brisk walk for many miles and make love to two men for many hours. Coming from the mixed northwestern European background of many Americans, she looks very Irish, with fiery blue eyes and red hair. I say all this because it is considered helpful to readers to allow them to have a mental image of a character. To me, the strongest physical image of a lover, is the one I get from my hands, arms and mouth when the earth is dark and clothing gone. Helen is a luxurious blend of strength and softness with powerful shoulders and legs, smooth skin, thick hair, full breasts, and full, complex tastes. Helen is passionate about her life and seems to draw her spirit from a deep well of strength and vitality. She is a woman of that hearty and hopeful European stock that conquered the world.

The man. Ah, there’s a more enigmatic subject. Don is a big man with big hands. He is the scion of Italians and Poles who haven’t done much conquering in many centuries. But they are people who work hard, value their families, are fierce with their loyalties, and don’t quit in rough times. Don is all those and he is an enigma. What I know of Don, is what I have observed, because, though he will talk voraciously about what he knows, he says nothing about himself. But, in fact, is what a person says about himself really as important as his actions?

Helen and Don are married. They have been married for twenty five years. Don is the first man Helen every laid. Though they did not wait for their honeymoon to consummate their love, the two events were not far apart. Helen and Don have no children.

I had known Helen for several years before we became lovers. In the way of many modern romances, we met at work. And in the way of may modern romances, I was the man who listened to her, valued her opinions, appeared to be sensitive and caring. This was not a ruse to get into her pants, however. I did listen to her, I did value her opinions, I was sensitive and caring. Attracted by her energy, and working in an environment almost totally devoid of men, I was drawn to her. Being married, she was ‘safe’. After a painful relationship many years ago, I swore off adultery. I would and did make love to someone who had the full and un-coerced consent of her partner, but those relationships are not easy to find and certainly, in this case, seemingly unlikely. Gradually, over time, as we shared long walks and talks together, I realized that I had fallen in love with Helen. ‘One does love one’s friends’ I attempted to convince myself. I had had women friends who were never lovers. I had been able to acknowledge my desires without acting upon them. I did think so highly of Helen, that I should be able to realize the destructiveness of bringing sex into the mix. But that complex colloid of love and desire held together by familiarity and friendship now flowed between us. It was only a matter of time before the subject was broached.

We talked about our passions. She was clear that she wanted to make love with me. She was honest and present about that. She also knew that she could not cheat on Don. I was unwilling to encourage her to do so. I really saw no point in it.

I was not privy to the alchemy Helen used on Don. But as I have gotten to know them both, I can imagine much of it. Had not Helen been a loyal wife who had proved that she would stick by her husband through twenty-five years of the highs and lows of marriage? Had she not been there for the disappointments and disillusions? Was she not still there? Wouldn’t he always be first in her life? She had never and would never make love to another man unless he consented. He, on the other hand, had had some dalliances earlier in the marriage which she had forgiven. He was untrustworthy but she was not. He claimed to love her and want to make her happy. This would make her happy. She would be careful for his feelings and sensitivities but she needed this and he should see that. And so he said yes.

I was more than a little unnerved by this. I had made love to women whose partners agreed to the tryst but this was not the same. Don and Helen were a not-unusual suburban couple. Their politics, their interests, their religion, their lives had been pretty mainstream. These were not graying hippies. They loved America and their local baseball team. They were close to their families and always had been. Not a black sheep between them. My lovers had tended toward the quirky and eccentric; those who had seriously questioned the American dream and remained skeptical that the ‘Greatest country in the world’ was little more than a thin propaganda hype. Don and Helen were not those people.

Before I agreed to dive into that ocean of intimacy with its eddies of emotion and rocky shores strewn with broken hearts, before I took a step which could easily lead to a destroyed marriage and a lost friendship, I wanted to hear Don tell me this was all right with him. I wanted him to tell me himself. He did.

Let us go forward in time. Helen and I have been lovers for over a year. We continue to be passionate about each other with all the ardor of the first encounter. At times Don has been more than encouraging. He has allowed her just about everything she wanted in the way of time and privacy. When we have all agreed, he has joined us in lovemaking. At other times he has sulked and needed reassurance from Helen. Helen has been candid with her lovers and moved along at a pace she finds comfortable.

Relationships do not remain stagnant. I have grown to want to feel a part of a family with Don and Helen. This has proven to be a greater challenge than being a lover. Neither one of them feels comfortable with the idea of their relatives knowing of my involvement. Don’s family does not live in the area and visits infrequently. Helen was born and raised in the area and has two sisters and a brother not far away. None of them have any idea that an extramarital relationship has become a fixture in Don’s and Helen’s lives. Though we have talked about living together and they have talked between themselves about the feasibility of such an arrangement, it remained intangible until quite recently.

Two months ago while the three of us were having dinner, Helen said she had something very important to discuss with me. Since Helen, in general, kept her important discussions to one-on-one meetings, this was unusual. But she then asked Don to leave and told him she would call him when she was ready. He clearly knew this would happen and left without further discussion, to walk the dog. Helen took my hand in a way that conveyed concern and tension. I didn’t know quite what to make of it. She had something important to say. Helen is not a woman to shy from difficult subjects when they need addressing.

"Sweetheart," she began, "Don and I have been talking about us all living together." I was quite attentive as she let her ideas flow. Helen had been thinking about this for some time and with great care. She has gone over several scenarios and my possible reactions. She had given much thought to ramifications in both the near and distant future. I let her talk at some length without interruption as she laid out a plan which was nothing like I had expected.

Don was apprehensive about us all sharing a house. How would his position as the alpha male be protected? How could he know that over the long run, Helen’s affections mightn’t be alienated from him? In such close proximity, mightn’t it happen that she might be drawn closer to me? They had been together so long, more than half their lives, that Don’s insecurities were very dear to her. She felt protective, even maternal towards her husband. Didn’t I so often claim that I loved her and that I would give up our sexual relationship if it meant her happiness? Hadn’t she assured me that she meant to keep her two lovers in her life, and as lovers? Hadn’t she proved her loyalty to me? She had not pursed any other lovers and had been sensitive to the feelings of her men. She had demanded and gotten compromises from Don which allowed her to share herself with me. She was now willing to accept me as a mate along with her husband, to share their home with me permanently, to be her lover permanently, until death. But for this to work, all of us needed to give a bit to get much.

"Don wants you to have your penis removed." She dropped the bomb with serious concern and love in her eyes. "Reluctantly, I think it makes sense. I will miss it greatly but you are so good with your mouth and hands and so comfortable with a strap-on that I know I can make the transition. You have said so often that you find more pleasure in the pleasure you give me than in the pleasure your cock gives you. Don would feel so much more secure if he had the only penis in the family. I do hope you see the wisdom in this idea and will find it in your heart to agree".

She talked at great length as she was wont to do on important subjects to which she had given much thought. And she had applied her usual thoroughness to researching how best to affect the removal. The legalities, the dangers, the practitioners, recuperation and aftercare. I don’t wish to mislead you into thinking Helen was in any way cold or clinical about this. It was clearly not her first choice in solutions. She would rather I keep my genitals intact. Her and Don had had many talks about the three of us living together. He wanted it because she wanted it but he was too insecure to not be frightened by it. She loved him too much to leave him in such a frightened state. Wasn’t a life with her worth the loss of a bit of flesh?

The amputation of one’s genitalia is not the same as taking out one’s appendix. Helen wanted me to keep my testicles so that I would continue to be amorous and not loose the benefits of the natural hormones. Don merely wanted the penis removed. Merely! Transsexuals have their genitalia converted to vulvas and vaginas but they want to be women. I was being asked to have mine removed and continue to be a man. There are men who loose their pricks from accidents or cancer or warfare. They received nothing but a profound sense of loss. In return for my member, Helen promised me her devotion as my wife; a devotion she had shown to be real.

At this point in a conversation concerning life-changing decisions, it is common for the one presented with the choice to say, "I need to think about this," or some such statement to express one’s inner conflict and to give oneself time to weigh the options with a bit of distance. Instead, I said, "Yes."

Helen called Don who arrived soon after. Helen went to him and told him I had agreed to his request. He was incredulous. I realized he had been bluffing. I could intuit it from his face. We were both men and men all have a profound love-hate relationship with their dicks. Most men would rather die than loose theirs. To a rather straight and mainstream man like Don, a set of cock and balls equates with manhood itself. Manhood is power, the power to say that man is greater than woman; and the bigger the cock the bigger the man. Hysterectomies may be an everyday occurrence in hospital operating rooms. Women may freely commiserate about them. But castrations and penectomies are hushed topics that men rarely discuss except in crude jokes whose humor lies in profound loathing.

Helen had taken his request seriously but he had not been serious at all. He had fully expected me to refuse and the discussion of us all living together would have been moot. I would never agree to mutilation and talk of a cozy menage a trois would end. I would be shown to be unwilling to make a compromise as great as Don’s and Helen would soon tire of her occasional lover who had no serious commitment to her life.

Because Helen had come to believe she fully understood her husband, I had come to believe she did also. She had been sincere in her request and I had been sincere in my response. She had asked me to have my penis removed and I had agreed. Don had not been sincere. I saw that. Helen hadn’t. She really did know her husband, his loves, his tastes, his fears. She thought she understood his darker side. She knew he liked watching her make love with me but she didn’t know why he liked it. She knew he liked me to suck him off and she knew he had enjoyed going down on me but she didn’t know why. To the extent that Don knew why, he kept his own counsel. He abhorred psychologists and refused to see one, equating those who did with the inhabitants of asylums.

"Are you sure you want me to do his?" I asked him directly. "Are you sure that this is all that stands between us all living together?"

Don simply nodded and went to his room. Helen waited a moment, expecting him to say something, then turned to me with a look that seemed to say, "I apologize for his reticence. It’s probably hard for him to talk about it."

"Helen, I don’t believe Don wants me to have my dick off as a condition for our living together. I think it was a ploy to end the discussion. If you want me to do it to show my love for you, I will do it. But I truly believe that Don expected me to say ‘no’."

The light was dawning in Helen’s mind. She went to Don’s room and knocked. She heard a whimpering and she entered. Don was siting at his computer terminal with his head in his hands, crying. "He really loves you, Helen. He loves you enough to do that. I didn’t think he loved you. I was sure he’d run when you asked him."

Helen took Don’s arm and asked him to please come into the dining room. She escorted him in so that the three of us were together. Don was not looking at me. She brought him over to where I was and I stood up to meet them.

"You men are my lovers and my husbands. I am your wife. We shall all live together. You two will learn to get along. I have decided that because it will make me happy and it will make you both happy. No one is loosing his dick because I prefer that you both have them if for no other reason then you seem so attached to them. But right now I’m bringing you both to my bedroom and giving you both a good fuck. And I’ll be wearing the cock."

We’re looking for a larger house.