Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Saturday Night Live

It's been a long time since I posted about sex. Since this is a sex blog, that's not a good thing. So, if a may have your attention....a sex post.

Steve and I, accompanied by Kit and Luke, went out on the town the other night. It was a blast. We went to dinner, shopped (not a blast for the guys) and then hit a few clubs. The first club was dead. The second too loud. The third was just right.

Dancing? Everyone danced, even Steve. He didn't dance often but he did dance. When Kit and I danced, a few others joined in as well, male and female. That's fine and all but two guys kept trying to join in while Kit and I danced. They reminded me of those guys in the Saturday Night Live sketches: I think it was Will Farrell and I can't remember the other guy. They weren't so much dancing as having grand mal seizures. It was difficult not to laugh.

Towards evenings end I thought we were going home. Instead, the guys had gotten a hotel room. Surprise, surprise.

We walked to the hotel, checked-in, went to the bar for a night cap and headed upstairs. I was still cold so I ran the shower, stripped down and hopped in. A few minutes later, Luke joined me. He stood behind me, his large, hard cock pressing against me. "It's been awhile," he said. "Do you still remember how to do this?"

In response, I turned around, lathered his cock with soap and gave him a hand job as we kissed. Luke returned the favor, using his fingers until I almost came. Shower sex makes me nervous. It's great for foreplay but in the back of my mind I'm always hearing those statistics: "70% of all household accidents occur in the bathroom." Plus, it was a hotel bathroom and shower. I don't care how they're cleaned or how many times they're cleaned. It's still a bathroom hundreds or thousands of people have used. Yuck.

Theoretically, both parties could slip, fall or even die during shower foreplay. Imagine the police being called-in and ruling out foul play. Would they have to reconstruct the event with one of those special forensic units?--Measurements, splatter patterns?--Based upon the cum pattern, the female victim had been in a vertical, reverse cowgirl position having her hair pulled, immediately prior to death.

Sorry, got off-track.

We did spend about thirty minutes in the shower, engaging in some fantastic foreplay.

I'll stop here for now as I don't want this post to be too long.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is evidence that Satan exists.

It's such a strange "Holiday."

On the one hand, it feels so manufactured - Thank You, Hallmark. On the other hand, if you ignore this commercially-generated day, you're a Romance Scrooge.

On the one hand it's not a bad thing to have a day were we celebrate love. On the other, it reminds us that we don't celebrate love and our loved one's enough and have to set aside a day and be told to do it.

Satan does exists and he works in greeting cards.

Should I complain? Not at all. Piper made it a great night. She cooked a delicious meal, purchased the perfect wine and rented a top-notch action flick that she knew I'd enjoy. She also got me a really fun, thoughtful gift that I wasn't expecting.


While we watched the movie Piper surrounded herself with wedding related magazines. She seemed so happy. Happy to be with me and happy to be getting married. For a woman that derives so much pleasure from pleasing others it was very satisfying to see her so happy.

I often wonder if men appreciate the joy in making others happy. I'm not saying that I asked this fine woman to marry me just to make her happy. I'm pleased it did. It has made me happier as well. I just think I never wholly realized the satisfaction gained from the happiness of others.

Some men do, I'm sure. Not everyone has my wide selfish streak. Lately, her happiness and joy has become mine as well, moreso than ever before.

It's humbling.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Closing the Circle

Kit hosted an interesting get-together the other night. It was attended by a number of couples and friends that we've been with but it wasn't a sex party.

Instead, it was Kit's idea, of all people, to close the circle of people involved in our extra-curricular activities. Essentially, to have an exclusive club, invitation only. An invitation would only be extended after an interview. Not a formal interview, of course. It's not like there's a membership committee. Just an invite to a cocktail party where everyone could meet, talk and get comfortable with a potential member.

This decision was the result of some recent bad experiences. It's not much different than what we've done in the past.

Steve and I thought it was a good idea. It won't effect me too much as Steve and I haven't really engaged in the group thing in quite a while. They want to meet once a month. I thought this was rather ambitious. Scheduling conflicts and, frankly, just not "being in the mood" will make it more like once every two or three months. At least for me.

Mr. Paine has this concept defined in his lexicon:


Intimate Network:

A circle of friends who play together. Sexualizing friendships brings with it real risks, which is why swingers often prefer to play with strangers.



Those risks are real and, on occasion, have been realized. Issues have arisen and ultimately they have, for the most part, been ironed out.

We'll see how long this lasts.

Just wondering if anyone else out there has tried this approach and what their take on it is.

I mean, we don't have to have membership cards do we? Or sponsor a sports team?

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Bitch-Zillas

We promised this wouldn't become a Wedding Blog but a few posts every now and then won't kill anyone, will it? Uhm....will it?

I made Steve sit down with me the other night and watch Bridezillas. It was a traumatic experience for him. He quickly re-christened the show Bitchzillas and, after watching a few more minutes, Cuntzillas.

Can't say I blamed him. Both terms were accurate appraisals of the bride's behavior toward her mom, friends and fiance.

While Steve watched with dawning horror he would sneak a look at me out of the corner of his eye. Bridezillas is a brilliant show. It's unbelievable that anyone would treat strangers the way these brides-to-be treat family and friends. I can't remember if it was Bridezillas or another show but I actually so some woman slap a seamstress because she didn't like the way the gown was turning out. Disturbing behavior to to say the least. I was glad to see the shops owner escort the person out and tell them their business was no longer desired.

"Please," said Steve, "tell me these girls were bitches all along. It's not the wedding...right?"

I laughed. "I'm sure they're bitchy about everything. Don't worry."

I know this is a small segment of brides but their behavior is still breathtaking. It's amazing the amount of time, energy, money and emotion they expend in their quest for unattainable perfection while accomplishing little more than alienating friends and family. And whatever happened to dignity and grace? Are those qualities no longer valued? No longer taught?

The would-be grooms? Such wimps. It's one thing to cut your fiancee some slack. It's another to be a Grad-A Pussy. If you surrender your testicles before the wedding think what it will be like afterwards.

After the show was over I told Steve that I just wanted him to see how lucky he was to have me. He got a handjob out of it so he didn't complain.


I have noted that when people speak of their wedding day, it's usually the goof-ups they remember......with fondness and a smile. Why demand perfection when you can have warm, fun memories instead?

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Breaking the News

My experience was quite different than Piper's when breaking the news to Chase. I do harbor guilt about suggesting and then pushing Piper into the relationship with Chris. She's told me numerous times that she's a big girl and makes her own decisions. Still, the guilt persists. I also feel for Chris. I can imagine the proverbial shoe being on my foot and I know how I would feel.

Chase reacted quite differently. That's not surprising because we have never been as emotionally attached as Piper and Chris. We've been dating for a long time now and we are emotionally attached, just not at the same level. We've also always had a wall that has prevented us from becoming too involved in each others lives. Chase built that wall and I'm glad she did. It was a smart move. I've always had a terrible habit of throwing caution to the wind. That's good at the start but it also means things get complicated later on.

Chase has another boyfriend. I've met him. He's a decent guy. Chase's other relationship isn't like my relationship with Piper. There's no sense that their on the way to the alter. Not yet. Chase still built the protective barrier.

Chase was very excited and happy for me when I told her the news. She knows Piper and likes her very much. Chase asked questions about the wedding plans. Questions I couldn't answer but she did show genuine interest.

Then, we had sex. Really mind-blowing sex. She thought it was a huge turn-on to be with an engaged guy. I also think it's safe for her. I'm taken and that route for her and I, no matter how unlikely, is now closed.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Chris

How can I describe Chris' reaction to my engagement? In weather forcasting terms, a cold front blew in for a few weeks. It was a bitter cold. They kind of cold where you don't want to go outside. You just want to cuddle-up on the couch, in front of the fire, with a good book and a cup of tea. His reaction is completely understandable. I certainly not being judgmental nor am I suggesting I would react differently if the roles were reversed. That doesn't make it easier, however.

Chris initiated the first phone call about five days after I dropped the news. My intuition told me he called so he could be frosty. Some passive-aggressive payback, perhaps. Or, perhaps, he wanted to get the first post-engagement contact out of the way. I'm not sure.

After about three weeks I placed a few calls. There was a lot of, "I'm busy right now, I'll get back to you," type of responses. He is busy, that's true. He has always taken plenty of overtime when offered.

In mid-January we finally got together. Things were awkward but both of us kept our game faces on and tried to act like things were normal. That made it feel worse. A few days later Chris called as he was leaving work. He stopped by. There was very little talk. He took me into the bedroom and we fucked. It was fast and furious. He wanted to butt-fuck me but didn't wait until I was ready. That hurt and I was really sore afterwards. I think it was more punishment. And, no it wasn't anything approaching rape. I knew he wanted it and I didn't say anything. I just gritted my teeth and took it to please him.

The big talk came last week when we had a heart-to-heart. Nothing was really resolved but there was some anger and tears. I pretty much told him that I wanted him to be my lover for as long as he wanted to be my lover. I laid my cards on the table and left the ball in his court. I also mixed many metaphores as well.

Driving home after that talk I vowed to never get emotionally involved again. If Steve and I pursue our lifestyle in the future, that's all well and good. I do not want to get emotionally involved with someone else. Nothing beyond what I'd feel for any friend. I'm not going to start having sex with strangers. That's never been for me. It will be with people I like and know but I won't have another boyfriend. No dates or long talks. Can't do it. I'm not built that way.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Things They Don't Teach You in School

It's time for this post.

Telling Chris about my engagement was not the first, second or even third thing that popped onto my radar after Steve proposed. I feel guilt over this but it's true. I knew Chris needed to be told but that realization only hit the next day.

I wrangled with this for a good twenty-four hours. My personality is such that inedecision creates far more stress and anxiety than action. Once something is irrevocably set in motion then, and only then, does the emotional whirlwind within begin to subside. The emotions do not subside. It's just that the whirlwind's tragectory changes and moves towards resolution.

My decision was ultimately easy. Tell Chris now! I wanted to keep my promise of being open and honest. More importantly, Chris deserved nothing less.

As I picked up the phone, my entire body shook. It was awful. You think you're so calm and cool and then your body rebels. Hands shake, hell, whole body shakes, voice cracks and waivers. You see why a career in neurosurgery was never an option. Of course, after the emotional work-up, I had to leave a message. He finally got back to me a few hours later. I told him I needed to see him soon. We met that same night. At his apartment.

He knew something was up. Everything about me, my voice, my body language, telegraphed it to him. I'd be a terrible poker player.

After a hug and a kiss we sat on his couch. I grabbed his hands and just told him. Like I said, he knew something was up and I have to believe my getting married was on the list of possibilities. His first reaction? A swift glance at my hand and noting that I hadn't worn my ring.

I had not worn my engagement ring. To do so, in my mind, would give my happiness precident over what would be a confusing time for Chris. Also, there's the whole male, territorial marking thing.

We talked for a short time. I told him I loved him, that there was still a place for him in my life but that things would obviously change. He then asked me to leave because he needed time. "Will you call me when you've had some time?' I asked.

"I don't know."

Honesty is a cruel two-way street.

This was more than a month ago. I'll follow-up in future posts.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

More on Naughty Talk

Thought I'd chime in here on Piper's last post.

I think one of the comments hit the nail on the head, for me, at least.

The turn-on with dirty talk is like primary election politics. It's all about the expectations. In this case violating expectations.

I've never solicited the services of a prostitute. If I did, I sure as hell wouldn't call her a slut or a whore. Technically, she would be a whore if your definition includes taking money for sex. I'd only be stating the obvious.

The real turn-on is to see a woman that is 100% lady in all other departments really turn slutty in the bedroom. It's a turn-on because she's not a "slut" or "whore" in the derogatory sense of the word. If she were, it wouldn't be a turn-on.


The two women in my life are quite different. Piper is a woman's woman. Outside of the bedroom she's very traditional in many ways.

Chase is more of a guy's girl. She has more male friends than female and has no problem going toe-to-toe in a male-dominated conversation.

It's a real turn-on to have a woman like Piper admit to being a slut or whore while in the bedroom because if you met her it's the last thing you would imagine her saying. Chase is just different. She's much more dominant in bed than Piper and dirty talk doesn't have the same appeal. In fact, the roles are sometimes reveresed where I'm called a "bastard" as in "fuck me, you bastard."

So, many women might not like being called such names in the heat of passion. That's fine and those wishes should be respected. Just remember, if he says something like that, it's precisely because he doesn't see you as a slut or whore. If he thought you were one, it would never cross his mind to say it out loud.

As for style, I like the grenade method described in the previous post. I think of it as the "real-man method." My definition of real man? One willing to get his ass kicked from time to time when he does something stupid.

I have to go watch my Patriots kick some ass, now.