Recap: Return from the “Out of Office”

So i’ve gone through a little 3 month bout of exploration. I know it’s been a while since I’ve last written but here’s the quickest update I can give (delivered to you by the magical powers of bullet points)

• I have “ended” and “continued” things with dickpic more than needs to be kept count. Tears a-plenty but at the end of the day, nothing has changed too much.

• I started seeing the male version of myself

  • only to find myself frustrated by his inability to keep up with plans

  • ended things with him

• started seeing a 29 year old, music-marketeer from the West Coast. From heretoforward, he shall be referred to as Jingle Man.

  • met him the night i gave up on the male version of myself (still needs nickname)

  • he’s ready to make things more serious but I’m not sure I’m there yet

• I’ve been to Spain and back (literally. it was very cool.)

• I’ve slept with Dickpic and a friend-of-a-friend, and made out with Narcissus (it’s the best i’ve got, stay tuned) since starting to see the Jingle Man

• Jingle Man has recently told me he loved me… maybe on the same night I got drinks with and subsequently made out with Narcissus.

• My March Madness Bracket is getting torn down hard but I somehow managed to win the pool – thanks uConn

• Jingle Man and I have had multiple conversations regarding our relationship status which I have declared does not exist further than being fun, having sex, and involving friendship. In my attempt to be honest and not hurt him I think I did the opposite, or maybe I just feel like a bad human being for doing this to anyone?

 

I suppose bullets can stop here.

I’m faced with a dilemma. I like Jingle Man a lot.

Yesterday he drove with me out to the beach where we walked along the windy coast. It was just us and it was kind of perfect. I found him funny and charming and his self-deprecation was down to an all-time low.

But by the end of the night it was back to him apologizing, asking me what’s wrong (even though I was honestly just tired) and peacing at 230 to go to sleep. I thought things were fine until he woke me up at 320 to tell me he was going back out.

Not great.

Aside from being bummed I’m not getting any orgasms this morning, I’m glad he went back out if that’s what he wanted and I’m thankful he took me home and made his own decision. But not sleeping next to him kind of sucked (even if he does snore like a bulldozer) and I can’t help but think I’m making the wrong decision.

And not to sound cliché or to pass my behavior off as excusable, but isn’t that what my twenties are for? Bad decisions?

As people who never really share the more intimate portions of my day-to-day, my mother’s only true response to me informing her I was “seeing someone”, aside from asking for more details, was that it was all good “so long as you’re having fun”. And she’s right. As we know: thanks to technology and medical advancements, we’re living longer so I have plenty of time to figure out who I want to settle with to make a life (her and my father didn’t meet until they were in their 30s, getting married within a year of introduction).

That’s enough for today – time to head out, put on my sunglasses [maybe also a little spf], and enjoy this beautiful day instead of fretting from my bed.

Here’s to the next post being more steamy

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.