July Mark and I are taking a trip. As part of it, we’re seeing some old friends of ours. It happens that these particular old friends have been through roughly the same situation as Mark and I have struggled with this year. From what I gather, the girl is sexually open and the guy, less so.
Mark ran into the guy over the weekend and they had time to talk. Mark came home wanting to have “the difficult conversations,” whatever that means. As if we haven’t been having difficult conversations for the past 18 months now. He wanted to talk about our plans for July, which may or may not include going to a sex party.
First I refused. I told him that I don’t want to go to a sex party if all I can do is look but not touch and if I constantly have to defer to him about what I can do. It’s the truth. I can look but not touch from home.
Still, I’ve given it some thought. I’ve tried to turn the situation around for the better. So, I say, guys, you have two girls here who are saying they are willing to do pretty much anything. (At least I am. I hesitate to speak for my friend, so if you are her, please chime in yourself.)
This is an opportunity. I say, guys, make some plans. Don’t wait until July 1st, start now. You’re in charge. You make up the rules. Set the agenda. Forget everything you’ve ever learned about being good Jewish boys and let’s have some fun.
I’m going to grope you and smack your ass tonight. You’re going to like it. 😉
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Receiving date night plans and instructions turns me on more than giving them.
Last-minute plans are so fun, but I like to have a few days to simmer.
We should always have drinks before dinner.
I’m sorry that I laughed when you pressed me up against the side of the building. I liked it, I really did. I want you to do it again. The laughter was a combination of my pure joy and my awareness of our changing.
I want to kneel for you on a bridge. But I don’t want you to ask me if I’m ready. I want you to set it up. I want you to tell me to do it. Be bossy. I want you to.
I like to be directed, not asked. If you don’t know what you want, then tell me that I’m in charge. Don’t ever ask me what I want you to do. If there is something, I’ll tell you.
Hotel sex is really fucking hot, even when it’s not dirty.
Now: “Have a good day!” we say. You give me a peck on the lips as you rush out the door.
Someday soon: You pull my head back by my hair and kiss me hard, longer than absolutely necessary.
“See you tonight,” you whisper.
Later: You push me up against the kitchen counter and sneakily grab my ass, still sore from your hand on it the night before.
“Are you still thinking about last night?” you say into my neck.
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