First, a little bit of background. I am polyamorous, and happily partnered. There are kinks I have that my partner does not care to participate in, so I am allowed to fulfill those needs with other people. This particular story is about my attempt at getting over a breakup with a recent lover.
After a long night of partying with coworkers, trying to forget the breakup (he decided he couldn’t share me with my partner), I couldn’t face the silence at home. Tension building between my legs, as is my reaction to heartbreak initially, I had the cab driver drop me off at the one other place I felt at home, where I thought there would be a friendly ear, though well after closing time. That place is a bar where I have been a regular off and on for about a decade, since before I could even drink. The best way I can describe the scene is Burning Man meets bordello: low lights, curtains, beaded and otherwise, soft cushions and low couches. It has always welcomed the artists and freaks into its fold.