This post may contain affiliate links and I may be compensated for purchases visitors make through these links. I only promote products and services I really care about and that I think are useful. Read the full policy here.

There are two activities I love most in life: writing and sex. I started combining both at an early age.

I recall the time my parents found my journal. This particular journal had mature details of women who seduced and looked to be seduced. For a twelve-year-old girl, the writing was quite vivid, quite realistic, quite…good. My father pulled me aside to “speak” about it one day. I was petrified and embarrassed, anticipating a verbal lashing. Instead, he encouraged me to create a pen name and write erotica professionally. That was my first permission slip into this great-wide-beautiful-world of smut.

Where it all began…

I had my first partnered-sexual experience around the age of thirteen, and my first penetrative experience at the cusp of fifteen. I am now twenty-nine-years-old and have had sexual relations with twelve men and three women. Before I met my husband, I’d had zero experiences with females, regardless of my desire, and the ten men I had slept with could not bring me to orgasm (with the exception of one long-term relationship). 

a white woman lying in bed wearing a sexy lingerie

For a long time, and thanks to pop-media and my young adult addiction to Cosmopolitan magazine, I viewed sex as a place to perform rather than receive pleasure. As a result, I viewed sex as a space in which my value was earned. This made intimacy and love very confusing. I was so preoccupied with how well I was performing for my partner, that I completely missed the path of thought that determined if they were “good enough” for me. In other words, if they cared about my pleasure, as much as I cared about theirs

In retrospect, I am much more understanding. I was engaging in a sexuality that was based on cis-gender male pleasure, and with partners who were as out of touch with their own sexuality as I was with my own. Life hadn’t offered us the experience or education to dig deeper than that. Don’t get me wrong, there were many fun and passionate moments; however, orgasm became something I did with the self – it became an unshared experience.

Enter Jay, my hubby

In less than two years, I went from being a nearly inorgasmic young adult to a submissive, cuckquean with a ferocious appetite for experience. 

How, you ask?

Before I move forward on this, I think it’s critical to note that sexuality begins with the self. Outside of what we should learn in school (anatomy of reproduction and pleasure, gender identity, lgbtq+, self-esteem, and so on…), it is nobody else’s responsibility to teach you about your desires, the way you like to be touched, licked, sucked or fucked. I do, however, know from experience that when you meet someone(s) whom you connect with on a sexual level, those desires are capable of contracting and expanding. Sexuality is a spectrum. Sexuality is ever-changing.

In saying that, when Jay arrived in my life in late 2014, I was ready to explore. This was around the time Fifty Shades of Grey became a megahit. And regardless of my reservations, I have with those books and films, they amplified this longing I had for something a little wilder. 

On our first date, the topic of sex naturally came up between Jay and I. It remains one of the most spoken about topics between the two of us to-date. It is something we connect deeply on and are passionate about. Through this initial conversation, I learned that his preferred sexuality is BDSM – specifically the role of the Dom. My husband has no submissive bone in his body. When I learned this, I melted. I was, in a way, relieved. Much of the misconception about BDSM is that the Dominant uses the submissive for their pleasure. I recently corrected a friend about this, describing the arrangement in these terms:

The Dominant builds the scene around the sub’s pleasure, staying within their boundaries. In other words, the Dom focuses on their pleasure, using it to also create pleasure for themselves. The submissive creates the blueprint for what will and will not happen between them and their Dom during a specific scene. Safewords are always established, and aftercare is a critical part of the process for both the Dom and sub.

Our relationship bloomed quickly. It’s amazing what can happen when two people lay everything out on the table. It isn’t to say it’s always easy, but communication, and understanding that sexual preference is not something we choose, can make living and sharing with your partner(s) that much easier.

Becoming the Quean…

There are a multitude of events that took place between the meeting of Jay and becoming a cuckquean. Understand that at the beginning of our relationship, I was riddled with jealousy. Who I was then would not recognize the person I am today – this took a lot (I mean a lot A LOT) of work on the self. I was recovering from bulimia nervosa when Jay entered my life. He met my disease with grace and created the space I needed for healing, whilst simultaneously providing the kind of love I always dreamt of sharing with someone. In other words, his empathy and compassion were the catalysts for the deconstruction of my walls.

a white woman with black wings standing wearing a sexy pair of lingerie

In 2017, I had already noticed changing feelings surrounding my sexuality. The first was, every time Jay and I spoke about our past relationships, I was particularly curious about the specific details of his sexual experiences with his exes. The more he would share, the more my insides would burn. It was like each story turned the flame up a little higher. I couldn’t quite hone the excitement, especially considering it was met with hints of jealousy. Then came our trip to Porto, Portugal that year. 

Let me set the mood for you: sitting beside me on a leather couch, under fluorescent lights was my fiancé and his best friend, Anthony. Two handsome, thoughtful Frenchmen. Together we awaited the first performer. This whole plan was my idea, for Anthony had never been to a strip joint. Before she presented herself, I took notice of one dancer in a tight and tiny, pink outfit. She was petite, slim, not much shape, but just enough attitude. She exuded confidence. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, and her spike-heels flexed muscles I didn’t know existed.

In that moment, everything I had ever felt about my own body – remnants of dark moments I had recovered from – crept slowly, dangerously into my mind. I suddenly felt the need to run. How was I supposed to watch her remove clothes in front of my man? How could I allow him to be subjected to such beauty when he had to leave with me?

The lights dimmed. Music turned up. I was too late to run. The show was starting. But it wasn’t the lady in pink who took the stage. No, it was a Portuguese Queen. She started out in a tight skirt and a drapey shirt. I can’t remember her song of choice – something slow, something sensual. To describe her would be the opposite of the lady pink. She was curvy, unconventionally stunning, possessed a different kind of confidence. Not the attitude the other woman wore so blatantly. My Portuguese Queen was smooth, cool. Her hips swayed, her clothes came off, and there it was. All her femininity right there, raw, bare, in front of me – in front of him, my fiancé. The love of my life. A human being that I, up to that point, never would have imagined sharing with anyone, ever. But something happened. Something clicked, or snapped, or broke, or came together – but it happened. Every insecurity I had felt watching the pink lady, and every insecurity I had ever felt before that moment, dropped. It hit the floor so hard, with such force and brute and finality, that it disintegrated on impact. Everything the world had taught me about my body, about how I needed to be in bed, disintegrated. Everything I had been sexually, mentally, since I was that fourteen-year-old girl on that couch, being penetrated for the first time, to the bulimic woman in a toxic relationship, to me, there, now. 360.

A moment. 

A second. 

A woman. 

Her body. 

Her curves. 

Her unapologetic attitude. 

That fire. I saw it. The one I once had burning in me. And suddenly it all came bubbling to the surface. The adrenaline. The rush. The knowing. The desire. The understanding that the lady in pink, although beautiful in her own way, is not perfection. Perfection is not a human condition. I repeat perfection is not a human condition. Sex and love are not inherently connected. 

There. As if falling from the sky, freedom – a freedom I could never have fathomed before that moment – landed in my lap. I looked at my fiancé, and perhaps he didn’t notice then, but he would in the weeks to come, the change that overcame me. Me. I became me. And how did it happen? Because for the first time, seeing a beautiful, curvy, naked woman in front of me, in her own peace of movement and dance, no photoshop or enhancements – natural, real, flawlessly imperfect – I was awakened to the fact that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I was the beholder. She was beautiful, and I wanted to experience that beauty, over and over and over again.

a pinterest pin that says "From No Orgasms to an Open Marriage: My Becoming Story" with an image of a naked woman watching another naked man and woman holding each other

I sat there in disbelief with myself. So afraid he, my fiancé, would want her, when in fact I wanted her.  I saw myself with new eyes. I saw my relationship under a new gaze. I saw all the women I used to write about with that flame in my chest, and I understood then that the partners and messages I let into my life smothered it with jealousy and insecurity and uncertainty. That I was never allowed to grasp at my own desires because my female comparisons oppressed what was now naturally becoming me. Again. At that moment I was the most certain I had ever been. I was whole. The lost pieces had found their way back. I wanted her. Sex. I wanted him. Love. I understand now. Sex and love. Two independent parts to one big and awesome pleasure centered life. And I understand that both can be fulfilled simultaneously and separately. And that life is short, and love and sex are great, that rules do not need to exist in this realm, and we can either be victims of our own desires or the key holder to the flood gates.

Have you experienced an orgasm?

Since then…

I use the word “bisexual” hesitantly. I understand the power of language and the importance of calling things by name. By doing that, we make room for individuals, groups, communities, that have been ignored, denied, rejected in society throughout history. Everyone has the right to define themselves the way they feel. For me, I prefer no labels. Who I decide to love, kiss, cuddle, have sex with, has never been dependent on genitalia. My desire comes from a place of connection. 

What Jay and I have learned and experienced since that magical moment in Portugal is that we can’t anticipate our experiences. This is just how we function. Our intimate moments with others was always a result of us just going out, planning a great evening together.

Our experiences since Portugal…

Since being together, I have had four shared sexual partners with Jay. Each time, we met our partners organically and without expectation. If I’ve learned anything along the way – and in life in general – it’s that having expectations (especially sexual ones) is an easy path to frustration. Sometimes just going with the flow can pay off in more ways than you could imagine.

For example, Jay and I were visiting Anthony in Rennes, France. His apartment is in walking distance from downtown, and we were in a particular mood to party. 

Making our way down the rowdiest street, lined with pubs and loud groups of people our age, one man caught my eye. He watched us, and as we were about to pass his table, he asked if we would join him. He wore a huge smile, and so did the other eight to ten people that sat alongside him. They were drinking beer, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, speaking French and laughing. We decided to stay. Remember, go with the flow.

The evening carried on like any other. I particularly hit it off with this cool, stylish Frenchwoman who was studying art in Rennes, with the goal to move to Paris. Everything about her was elegant. On the other end of the table sat a curly-haired woman, soft-spoken, big laugh. Jay fell into conversation with her. Time flew, and when we decided to switch bars as a group, I formally introduced myself to the curly-haired woman. We will call her Adelle. 

Adelle, Jay and I walked slowly behind the rest of the group, speaking and giggling. I could feel a change in the air. Were the three of us flirting with each other? Yes, yes, we were. By the time we reached the second bar, I was so excited about Adelle. Through conversation it was obvious she felt the same about us. She was sexy and joyful; I couldn’t help but kiss her. 

She kissed me back. Then we kissed Jay. We quickly realized the entire group we came with was watching us, so decided to go back to her place for a bit of privacy. My friends, the rest is history. What I can tell you, however, is we still speak with this beautiful soul. We even visited her hometown. She was and always will be a wonderful part of our journey and my self-acceptance.

Advice to those who seek…

The part we’ve all been waiting for – the “how-to” of creating more experience and spice in your relationship(s).

The rule of thumb for any partnership is communication. I hate to be a broken record, but any good professional will tell you that this is the key to any healthy relationship. It’s simple without being simple. Some people were never taught how to properly communicate. If you fall into that category – if speaking your truth or being vulnerable feels like a fate worse than death – talk to someone! I promise, promise, promise you, enjoyment, happiness, fulfilment can be found in honest communication with the ones you love, even if guided by a professional until you’re comfortable leading it yourself.

If and when you have the communication part down (or at least in progress), I advise people to start some self-reflecting exercises to better understand their own desires. Here are a few:

  1. Find some downtime with YOURSELF. A bath. Take yourself on a dinner date. Put on some music, grab a glass of wine and just sit somewhere cozy. Be alone and explore where your mind goes. Take note of things that surface – be it sexual or not. What do you need in order to feel more relaxed, more connected, more open, more sexual? This can also be a GREAT time to explore your body (not in public, in case that wasn’t obvious). 

There is a strange misconception in our society that a) masturbation is bad, when in fact it is critical for sexual development, self-esteem and understanding one's body and pleasure, and b) once you’re in a relationship you shouldn’t do it anymore. Wrong! Having some downtime with your own genitals can actually have enormously positive impacts on your sexuality as a couple (or throuple, or whatever). Plus, if you don’t know what you like, how can you expect your partner(s) to know?

a man and woman in bed laughing
  1. Read sex-positive books such as Women’s Anatomy of Arousal by Sheri Winston. This is a great read for anyone who has a vulva or who has a partner who has a vulva. Another incredible read is Come As You Are by Emily Nagoski! May be something you do when implementing item #1 on this list. Vulva-owners can have a very complicated relationship with their body due to body/slut-shaming, lack of education and patriarchal society we live in. For this reason, it’s important for them to relearn sex and body-positivity while eliminating the negative. Partners can be a huge help for each other by supporting and encouraging re-education, self-exploration and expression.
  1. Put some time aside with your partner(s) to speak about your findings during self-reflection time. If this is still a bit too uncomfortable, gamify it. Each of you writes down 5-10 questions on pieces of paper and throw them in a hat. Take turns picking a question and providing answers. Set a timer for each question – say 5-8 minutes EACH – that way you don’t breeze by questions with simple answers. This is a deep-dive exercise. There may be some emotions because sexuality can be a triggering topic for many. Be patient with yourself and each other.
  1. If you’ve taken each of these steps, and feel comfortable experimenting with opening the relationship, these items may assist in that:

a. Define what “opening the relationship” means to each of you and determine boundaries.

b. It’s best to dip the toes before diving in. A few ways you can do this is by watching porn together, to get an idea of how each of you feels. Now, porn, in general, is created for the male gaze, so, be sure to include porn that appeals to each partner. Not sure where to start? Research ethical porn, such as Erika Lust, EroticFilms.com, Four Chambers, PinkLabelTV, JoyBear, Bright Desire, Jacky St. James, Lightsouthern Cinema, to name a few.

c. Take an evening to people watch at your favorite bar/club. Share your thoughts on the hunky guy near the bar, or the sexy woman on the dance floor. Explore and share your feelings with each other as the night goes on.

d. If it’s for you, get online and begin speaking to people who are compatible with your interests. Go as slow as you need to. In the past, we have used Tinder and FetLife (BDSM/kink focused). Word of caution – some people tend to get pushy. Those are not people you want to bring into your relationship. If someone can’t respect your boundaries or pace, then it is best to terminate the contact.

A few last thoughts…

Jealousy is a normal human reaction, but it isn’t inherently bad. You are not broken or incapable if these emotions arise. Pay attention and be real with yourself. On a similar note, you are also not broken if you realize that opening your relationship is not for you. Fantasies are not always meant to be lived, and that’s okay. Sometimes sharing them is enough.

For someone who has dealt with her fair share of jealousy, I’ve noticed that I go through a cycle. Seriously, when I get close to my period, I tend to experience negative jealousy. On the contrary, when I am ovulating or closer to the middle of my cycle, I’m more open to meeting people and having new sexual experiences. 

It’s a learning curve and takes a lot of mindfulness and self-awareness. Always, and I mean, ALWAYS, go at the pace of the slower partner. Do not feel pressured to adopt other people’s definitions; create your own within your partnership. Just because I do something one way, does not mean it is right for you or anyone else. Sexuality and relationships are not a one-size-fits-all formula. Trust yourself and communicate! Allow yourself to be vulnerable and get the guidance where needed. You are on an exciting journey, regardless of the outcome, and you have everything you need inside of you and at your fingertips!

Until next time,

Fuck well friends.

Quean Mo

Have you experienced BDSM?