Some have many wives, I have many husbands. We are very happy together and we don't care what anyone else says. So bugger off. -- The New Guy
The old joke goes that you need a polycule just to survive in this economy. It's funny because it's true. You would not believe how much we save by buying in bulk and pooling our incomes.
As for sleeping arrangements - that's none of your diddly-dang business. All you need to know is that we keep each other very happy.
Most people hear "polycule" and think of one guy with a harem of at least two ladies. That's not true. Polycules can be any combination of guys, girls, and anyone in-between. Do not make me show you the chart about the "in between" potential. I have one ready. My flock? It's me and five dudes. And don't call me the S-word either. I like civil conversations.
It's not just about sex. It's about harmony together, mutual support, and love. Which is not strictly lust. Grow up.
I'm chief breadwinner, though a lot of my lovies are also working. Dave's agoraphobic, so he's the stay-at-home parental. Jon does the shopping. Steve's our mechanic and electrician. Rob drives the minivan.
And then there's George.
We can't figure out who invited him, and I was busy with our fourth's birth when he turned up. Nice guy. Very friendly. Very amenable. He's kind to the kids, willing to teach and do sporty things with them, show them how to do proper research and so forth.
And yes, of course the kids know about "bad touch". That's essential. For all kids.
Back on topic. We figured out that George is Ace, and that's okay. We always ask permission for touches and he's cool with all that. Hugging another guy is not a huge deal for him. Same with hugging me.
We've been trying to figure out how he joined us, but some memories are dodgier than others. We all love Steve, but he has trouble telling last week from last year. Anyway, near as we figure, George just... kinda... turned up.
His first appearance was that he scared the beans out of Dave by asking him if he needed anything. Dave thought someone else invited him. Everyone else thought it was another one. So we peeked into his space, which used to be one of our guest bedrooms.
He had a backpack with a couple of changes of clothes, a well-weathered book about safely foraging in urban areas, and a very basic cooking set including a gas cooker and a pot.
George was homeless before he picked us to move in with.
We dare not confront him about this, either.
He does the dishes.
[Photo by Marc Pell on Unsplash]
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