Sex Niche Special, with a Cherry on Top

Travis and I had a 10-minute debate about ice cream today.

We were doing a quick phone check-in, and I wanted some help with today's blog entry. “I need a flavor,” I said. “If it were a kind of ice cream, what flavor is that not-exactly-vanilla thing we like to do sometimes?”

Okay, I didn't call it “that not-exactly-vanilla thing.” There's a much more simple term for the sexual activity I'm referring to. But I'm being coy. That's the whole point of the ice cream euphemism: I'm trying to figure out a way to reference some sex specifics without getting too...specific.

“I was thinking Strawberry,” I went on, “but it seems a little too dainty.”

“How 'bout Rocky Road?” Travis suggested.

“No way,” I said. “Chocolate's all wrong. And nuts aren't really involved, at least not directly.”

“Not Butter Pecan, then.”

“No. Peppermint, maybe? We need something that's a little unusual, but not that unusual. It's not like it's in the Black Licorice category or anything.”

Travis said he thought maybe I ought to look at the Ben & Jerry's website for inspiration.

“Ah, like Cherry Garcia?” I asked.

“No, that's going to seem like some kind of virginity fetish,” Travis decided.

We never agreed on a flavor. So let's just call it Slightly Scandalous, and leave the toppings to your imagination.

Why this elaborate ice cream parlor set-up?

Be patient. I'll get you there. Meantime, feel free to dish yourself up a bowl of cold, creamy... sublimation. Mmmm.

Fact: Slightly Scandalous™ is a flavor I've enjoyed only with Travis. It hasn't really been on the menu with anyone else. Scott tried to serve it once, and it was a disaster: I got really upset, and told him in no uncertain terms that he'd better cart it back to the freezer, on the double. My negative reaction might have been partly because I knew his other girlfriend, Chani, was a big fan of that particular flavor – but I think that most of it had to do with the fact that it tasted like humiliation to me.

I understand that some people find humiliation erotic. Not me.

That's why, early in our relationship, when Travis told me that he'd savored Slightly Scandalous with one of his previous partners, I said adamantly, “Too bad: it's one of the few things I can tell you I am absolutely not into. Don't even think about going there with me.”

“That's fine,” Travis said. “NO Slightly Scandalous. Got it.”

And he was as good as his word.

After a few months, I said, “You know, about that Slightly Scandalous flavor you like – you're really taking me seriously about not going there. Actually, it seems like you're taking the avoidance a bit too far. You're going out of your way not to give me anything even remotely similar. So, just so you know, it's not that big an issue: a little tiny spoonful might be okay, on occasion...”

“Okay,” said Travis, laughing a little – and went on NOT dishing out the flavor in question.

In the end, I asked for it.

And, to my surprise, it was a treat.

However, I can't say I'm a complete convert. Even though I now know that I am capable of enjoying Slightly Scandalous in some circumstances, I'm not keen on the idea of sharing that cone with anyone other than Travis. It's a relief that my husband prefers other flavors. As for Scott, if he were ever to try it with me again, I think I'd clock him.

And this makes me feel guilty.

I would be willing to bet that other people in my situation are sometimes made uneasy by the fact that so much depends on who, exactly, is holding the ice cream scoop.

In the polyamorous ice cream parlor, comparisons between lovers are discouraged, if not actually verboten: after all, it's not supposed to be about picking a winner, the Mr. or Ms. Right who is going to provide you with the panoply of flavors perfect for your particular palate. You're just supposed to enjoy what you share with each person, whatever frozen confection it might be. Cool idea. But everyone has preferences, and even poly people are sometimes going to have preferences about which flavors they'd rather share with which lovers.

You can't help but notice who's best at serving Fudge Ripple, who's most likely to give you some Raspberry Sherbet, and who's got all the fancy extras – and by that I mean whipped cream and maraschinos, of course.