Rules Were Made to be Broken

Please check out this post and at least 1 other like it (more to come) on Lusty Mermaids. A few lady friends and myself are joining in the fun together, willingly offering up our sex and love lives to you beautiful readers. 

While of course there are many hang-ups in the boudoir regarding what is acceptable and what is not, I strongly believe there are just as many things about getting down and dirty in said chambers that can really get things going. While I’m not even entirely talking body fluids and what might generally be considered “no touch” zones, lending towards the more abstract ideas of dirty talk, I certainly am partially talking about those things too.

Argue with me all you like about your version of “lines in the sand” but doing something you’re not supposed to is just more fun.

Exhibit A

I have an acquaintance I have known since middle school.  We started sleeping together sometime in college and revisit the subject annually or biannually depending on time and availability.

Naturally, the sex started off as most young sex does: it was fun but nothing amazing. In hindsight I’m sure it was more awkward than it seemed, with the two of us being green to the topic. In the beginning, having sex with each other was the thing we weren’t really supposed to be doing. We were not dating (and never have), we weren’t going to tell our mutual friends we even saw each other, and we were in his parents house while they were at work; we were just two kids alone and getting into trouble. Eventually this excitement wore off and like any good junkie we looked elsewhere for the fix. And so as we both grew into our sexual-selves we have also become more comfortable voicing things we’re into.

We are now in the sixth year of the hanky-panky and in a little sexy-texting sesh from the other night I think he verbalized exactly why it has stayed fun for so long in his remark “I love everything about the sex we have. It gets dirtier and dirtier every time.” So maybe what makes this “relationship” lasting isn’t only that we’re willing to share our desires but more so that we’re willing to indulge in them.

Exhibit B

Dickpic (who has been featured in plenty of other entries) and I have had the occasional “rendez-vous” for the last few months (as of May – we confirmed that last night). I have not known him for nearly as long as the subject in Exhibit A but it has always been this kind of push-the-limits enjoyment. So while there was never this hesitation and being uncomfortable voicing requests considering there was little to lose with this scenario (how much can be lost if you never have to see the person again?) there has always been this forwardness and blatant disregard for social hang-ups that is hot.

So that while with Exhibit A there was more of a cycle close to what Lizzy Caplan’s character describes (but certainly less on either extremes) in this  scene from the brilliant movie Bachelorette (despite the fact that we never dated), with Dickpic there has always been this push to the limits probably closer to the 7’s and above referred to in Caplan’s character’s moment. And it doesn’t stop there.

Each time there is some journey into un-chartered territory. This past weekend, it was showing up at his place with the doors unlocked, lights off, no talking. In October it was having sex in an impromptu-splurge hotel room with an amazing view of the city and the blinds wide open. The time before that it was in the shower. The times before that it was coming over before (and being late to) work, repositioning mirrors, getting a little frisky in the back seat of cabs, meeting as strangers in a bar and leaving within minutes. These are the memories I will hold onto to remind myself when I have children’s spit-up in my hair that I was once fun, young, and a little wild. To think: if i had ignored Exhibit A’s text in early high school, or ignored Dickpic’s initial advances things could be far more boring.

Can’t we just pretend this is one big round of improv?

And now I find myself delving into another form of un-chartered territory. Little shock to most, I’m quite into the male version of me. He’s a bit of a d-bag but in the most loveable sense. And where he does generous, “relationship”-y things, the sex stands to be hang-up free. It’s been 3 weeks and I can’t get enough. And where I grossly shy away from any marks left on myself (despite my habit of leaving them on others) even the bruises from bites and grips of passion have me interested.

Maybe this is the logic that will lead me down the rabbit-hole of S&M but we’ll broach that topic when the time comes. Until then, I’m leaving my hang ups on the coat stand and of course I’ll keep letting you know how that goes.

Narcissus, I Hardly Knew Thee

Went on a date with what I think may be the male version of me last night. He was smart and funny. Laughed a lot. Jewish. Kind of hairy. But with horrible eyesight and looked a little like Nick Kroll — can’t say I have either of those problems. And he lives in the kind of post-college frat-houses I’m afraid would have been my fate if I was not born the finer sex. But I actually had a great time.

 

And to show I am not demonstrating any bias, I’m even making him work for it a little. This will be enjoyable.

 

Also–may or may not have gotten a bat out of his [nose] cave. How’s that for weird first date material?

 

We’ll see how this goes.

A Toast to 2014 and the Land Down Under

The new year has come. I wish I could say I have some grand plans for 2014 but right now they’re just inklings and I’ve always found the idea of resolutions to be a daunting recipe for disaster. I have however always thought that the way you spend ringing in the new year is highly reflective on how your year will go. Regardless of the truth in that statement (sure, I’ve had crumby new years and good ones with varying (or mostly just good) results for the year overall) it’s a fun thought to entertain.

 

So you may be thinking, “Okay Brunette, I bite: here is where you want us readers to ask ‘how did you ring in the New Year?’” and right you are, dear reader !

 

As usual this story involves some background.

 

A few days after Christmas, I was tindering away when I came across a small group of australians in town on holiday. I started messaging with one without realizing I had right-swiped (or ‘liked’, for those not familiar with the app) all of his friends as well. This became obvious when the other two decided to send me the same message and convinced the first one to do it too. The jig was up. And while they were cute, I decided to stick to the original aussie. It seemed kind of tacky to trade him in for another and talking to them all at once would have been a recipe for disaster.

 

Aussie numero uno and I exchanged numbers. We met up for a drink. He stayed over but for the first night there was no funny business (I had to have my IUD replaced after the first one had started to fall out of my uterus [fun!] and was in no position for that kind of action) but he stayed over. We cuddled. We talked. I gave him head but mostly because he was such a good sport. He left in the morning and I went on my ways.

 

That Sunday, during the disgusting monsoon that happened post Christmas in New York, I met a friend for afternoon drinking in appreciation of the pig-skin. I can watch a football game and I enjoy the energy that comes with it, but if we’re being honest, I love it mostly for it’s social purposes. Drinking during the afternoon sounds far more unacceptable/like alcoholic behavior than saying you went to the bar to watch some football when in fact that acts are somewhat synonymous. Either way: our Sunday night eventually led us to drinks at Skinny Dennis in Williamsburg where we met more Australians.

 

After a few rounds and some dancing, I invited them both to the New Year’s Party our friend was hosting. One was shorter and kind of rustic looking with stubble and dirty blonde/light brown hair. He wore a fantastic sweater that we later found out was made by his grandmother. The other was tall and looked oddly similar to the ever handsome, ‘GIRLS‘ star Adam Driver. I figured their attendance couldn’t hurt the party and if they didn’t come: so what? They were nice looking strangers from a bar. And if I’m being honest I hadn’t invited them with the intention of hooking up with either. I was more so just overcome with the holiday spirit and thought they would enjoy coming to a party at someone’s place with beautiful and fun people (yes, I think all of my friends are beautiful and incredibly fun so I will not be apologizing about that one) rather than trying to find a bar to go to or enjoying themselves at a warehouse party that the neighboring ‘hoods are notorious for throwing for holidays and non-occasions alike.

 

And come they did.

 

So then, new years eve morning, Aussie number one woke up in my bed and when the sun rose 24 hours later on January 1, 2014 Aussie number two did the same.

 

Their accents still humming in my head I’m hoping that this year brings me more foreign territory. And not just in the sense of sexual conquests but in physical location. I don’t think this this is a sign and I should pick up and move to Australia, but I think it’s time for a change of scenery. 

 

I truly hope you all had a lovely New Year’s eve and are starting 2014 off on the right foot.

Promise still to love this brunette even if she no longer resides in the BK?