He Fucked My Wife and Now We’re Best Friends
Ramblings on some of the unexpected joys of open relationships
As a writer, one of the things I love about open relationships is the opportunity for both painful drama and unexpected moments of grace. When you begin to toss multiple people into the mix, a slew of new doors open that offer insight into the human experience and especially human sexuality.
Of the things I least expected when I first began experimenting with ethical non-monogamy (rather than the more traditional kind) was the friendships I built with my partner’s lovers. When my wife or girlfriend began to see someone new, my first instinct was often jealousy. It’s an emotion that I was steeped in as a child, and it came easily to me as much as I despised it.
But let’s say they have a few dates, the initial tension begins to fade, and I find myself in the same room with this new man. And let’s say that happens again and again as they stay together, and we all begin to get to know one another as we become intertwined with each other’s lives. Then suddenly, my wife has a new partner, and I have a new friend. But he’s not like other friends, because he is also in a relationship with my wife, which means one important thing:
We can fucking gossip!
Or, more precisely, we can bond over our shared relationship, occasionally gripe about it, and most likely tease her to no end about things both of us have noticed and laughed about over a few drinks.
I’ve been meaning to write a book about it. In theory, the book would be a series of conversations between two men involved with the same woman. They’d grow closer, fight on occasion, struggle, laugh, cry, and most likely fuck before the thing is over. Not that sex is the point, but it does feel like the natural outcome given the situation.
An early memory begins one night after a gathering of polyamorous party-goers on a rooftop on the Lower East Side. We left with a couple we were becoming friends with, as they had a car and offered us a ride home. I sat up front with the feminine half of the couple while my wife made out with the husband in the backseat. At one point, she tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I wanted to watch her suck his cock, a fantasy I had shared with her on more than one occasion.
It was a pleasant and almost silly ride as they teased and kissed, and when she leaned over (making sure to brush her hair to one side so I could watch) and sucked his cock, it was fun and flirty, even if a touch of jealously still begged for attention.
The three of us had a few more intimate nights later that month, and while our new friend didn’t end up seriously dating my wife, he did become a good friend of mine.
Possibly it was the shared experience of spending time together, and maybe it was the effect of watching each other fuck the same woman, or perhaps it came from that tender moment when I pulled out only to hear him yell “creampie!” as he dove between her legs.
If there’s a more bonding experience than that, I’m not sure what it is.
Other friends, partners, ex-partners, and ex-partners or partners bounce around in my head, filling me with memories both tender and regretful. But mostly when I think back, the jealously and the broken promises (there are always broken promises in relationships) tend to sink into the fog, leaving the brighter and kinder moments of laughter and friendship that grew out of complexity and desire.
I’ve met some of my best friends through these messy connections, and I’m more grateful than I can say. My old partner in crime, The Dirty Gentleman, and I met because my girlfriend at the time bounced over to me at a party and told me she had just made out with the most amazing guy, and I absolutely had to meet him.
And I had a boyfriend for five or six years who I met while he was making out with my then-wife on a couch. They paused when they caught my wary eye, but the second he and I talked, it was clear where the sparks lay, and it wasn’t between the two of them.
Relationships are messy, and love is strange, but as I think back on the last twenty years of my life where I’ve navigated various forms of non-monogamy, I’m most grateful for the unexpected friendships that have come from it.
Maybe there’s a book in there or maybe not, but right now, as I write, what I do know is I feel happy sitting in memory and thankful a hundred times over. And maybe, more importantly, I believe I have a few old friends to reach out to and more than a few joys to recall.
That’s all for tonight, and I thank you for reading along. I’ve been giving myself a bit more leeway with these letters to dive into personal stories and experiences, and I hope you enjoy them. I do also promise to get you something fun and dirty later this week, so don’t worry, it won’t all be random musings.
But if you do enjoy the more personal tidbits, leave me a note or a comment, and let’s see where we go.
Lots of love and warmth to you all,
♥️ it
I definitely enjoy the memoirs, whether they are directly or indirectly erotic (like this one), or not at all.