Dear Sasha: My wife and I are faced with a conundrum on which we would like an outside opinion. We have been married for 20 years, non-monogamous for about 16 of them. We first began swinging, then moved onto what would be defined as more of a polysexual lifestyle. We mainly have separate sex affairs, sometimes we still play together, and generally we seek out partners through online personals.

One thing we’ve found for as long as we’ve been committed this way is the amount of people we could each get with if only we were cheating and not in an open marriage. Both of us have also had the experience of people blithely responding to our separate profiles and then seeming flabbergasted when they discover the poly part, something we don’t hide. (A typical comment: “Let me get this straight, your wife/husband knows, and she/he doesn’t care? That’s so weird!” Yes, that’s weird, but lying to your spouse isn’t). So our question to you is: Being honest with each other and thereby fulfilling that part of our commitment, what do you think of netting casual sex partners by posing as cheaters? —Waiting to Check the “Discreet” Box

Dear Waiting,
The May 1 issue of the The New Yorker features an article called “Carnal Knowledge” by Bill Buford, in which the author decides to buy himself a whole pig to butcher. Though he doesn’t take this task on carelessly, his decision causes some frank indignation from people around him, and his experience proves that many people require proper distance from the fact that meat actually comes from an animal. It’s as though the kind of earthly candour with which Buford approached this enterprise implies a level of impropriety—a lack of discretion and respect.

I think your experience shows that we foist similar convictions on sex, and that many people attribute the same quality of unseemliness to candid non-monogamy. When you deviate by being open and realistic in your needs, suddenly the act takes on an aspect of normality and a lack of apprehension that seem to trouble folks to a point of fear, which often comes across as contempt.

You have to face certain ostensibly mundane facts in a non-monogamous situation—for example, that you’re not a clandestine paramour (ooh la la!). When you’re an affair, it can be romantic to imagine that someone is not simply enhancing their already satisfying life (which isn’t always the case either way), but getting away from something insufficient—a situation that gives you a bit of notability, misguided and shabby as it may be. You matter. People want to matter. We want to give import to the things that obsess us. If Georges Bataille, Mr. Sex and Death himself, were available for comment, perhaps he might say something like, “This is why we have tombstones and erotica.”

At any rate, even if you are sympathetic to these ingrained perceptions, you’ve likely worked hard to establish a rhythm and respectful parameters in your marriage. Anyone who’s been involved in open relationships knows what a monumental headache and heartache they can be at times. In fact, a friend was over just the other day and was saying she had given up on the whole pursuit because she felt the 17 hours of brain throbbing debate did not justify the three hours of sex she got in return. You’ve clearly made it over some big obstacles, but are you really prepared to take on the host of others that will arise as you front as an imposter cheater?

Dear Sasha: I’m a bisexual man and I cannot get a girlfriend primarily because of the idea that “he’s done guys, you know.” What’s a horny guy to do? I’m tired of men and not a prostitute type of consumer. Any ideas? —Steve

Dear Steve,
Why aren’t you dating bisexual women, and I mean real ones, not the Girls Gone Wild types? You wouldn’t happen to have some intrinsic prejudices against bisexuals yourself, would you? As my bi friend Roland points out, “If you're gonna ‘own’ queer, then you’re gonna need to find other queers to fuck.”

Got any questions for Sasha? Email: POULEDELUXE@YAHOO.COM