Hey babies, it’s your favorite Portland slut, Rhea. Thirty years old, still dripping wet at the thought of a new tongue or cock, and officially ten years deep into ethical non-monogamy. I started this lifestyle at twenty—fresh out of a suffocating monogamous relationship that made me feel like I was slowly dying from boredom—and I have never, ever looked back.
Being ENM doesn’t mean I’m just “allowed” to fuck around. It means I choose it every single day. I choose the rush that hits when I’m on my knees in a stranger’s hotel room, mascara running down my cheeks while some hot married guy pumps his thick cock down my throat, knowing my girlfriend is at home getting her pussy eaten by her own date. I choose the filthy freedom of texting my boyfriend “on my way home, pussy still full of her cum” and then riding his face so he can taste exactly how much I got used that night.
Let me paint you a picture, because I know you’re already touching yourself.
Last weekend I had a woman over—tall, tattooed, mean little smirk. She bent me over my kitchen counter the second the door closed, yanked my thong to the side, and tongue-fucked my asshole while she fingered my cunt so hard I squirted all over the tile. I came screaming her name, legs shaking, and then she made me clean my own mess off the floor with my tongue while she called her boyfriend and told him every filthy detail. That same night my regular guy came over, saw the handprints still bruised on my ass, and spent the next two hours reminding me exactly whose cock I belong to when I’m not out being a greedy bisexual whore. He fucked me raw, came deep inside me, and then made me send the other girl a video of his cum leaking out of me while I thanked her for warming me up.
That’s non-monogamy for me.
It’s not about “finding the one.” It’s about collecting orgasms like trophies. It’s about waking up in a tangle of limbs—sometimes two, sometimes three, sometimes more—and realizing every hole I have has been thoroughly used and I still want more. It’s the way my body has learned to crave different textures: the soft, wet heat of a woman’s mouth on my clit while a thick cock stretches my throat. The way two different men can fuck me in the same night and I’ll still be begging for a third because my pussy is a greedy little cumslut that never wants to be empty.
People always ask about jealousy. Sure, it flares up sometimes. But I’ve learned that the hot stab of jealousy just makes the make-up sex nastier. Nothing gets me wetter than watching my partner rail someone else and then crawling between their legs to lick them both clean while they tell me how much better I taste when I’m jealous and desperate.
I date men who want to watch me get destroyed by other men. I date women who love turning me into their personal fucktoy and sending the videos to my boyfriends. I date couples who want to use every inch of me while I moan thank yous into the mattress. And every single time I come home, I get to look at the people I love and say, “I got fucked so good for you.”
Monogamy was a cage. Non-monogamy is the key, the whip, and the collar all at once.
I’m thirty now, and my body is softer in places, my slut skills sharper than ever. I know exactly how to deepthroat a cock until my eyes water, exactly how to ride a woman’s strap-on until she’s the one shaking, exactly how to take two cocks at once and still beg for more. Ten years in and I’m hornier, filthier, and happier than I’ve ever been.
So if you’re reading this and wondering if you could live this way—yes. Yes you fucking can. Open your legs, open your rules, open your mouth, and let yourself be the greedy, multi-partnered, cum-drenched dream you were always meant to be.
I’ll be over here with my legs spread and my calendar full, living my best, wettest, most ethically slutty life.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with two guys and one very eager girl who promised to make me squirt until I can’t remember my own name.
See you in the sheets, Rhea xxx