July 3, 2009
Grace in good things
- Having someone drive down my street and know instantly which house is mine, because it reflects my style and personality (Hey - all those expensive renovations are finally paying off!)
- Men who wear cologne.
- Resisting the urge to bury my face in the necks of said men to take a deep sniff of said yummy cologne.
- Good theatre with good company.
- Long discussions about South African politics.
Labels: Grace in Small Things
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June 28, 2009
The X factor
Two weeks ago, Superstar showed up in the city, unannounced. He returned to pick up the remainder of his things and transport them to his new life on the coast.
When I got his call, tears flowed immediately. I wasn't sure if I could see him, because it was quite possible I would sob the entire time. It might hurt too much.
The thing is, I didn't really mourn the loss of this relationship. Two years of my life, with my soul mate, ended right before Christmas. At the time, we held each other and cried, had amazing break-up sex, and then didn't see each other until he was leaving town. A supper with some friends and then a latte date to say a final farewell.
After that, I didn't cry at all. Just went on with my life. I was preoccupied with work stuff and immersing myself in thesis research. Not to mention cuddling the awesome cat I replaced Superstar with.
I thought I was fine. And then, at the end of May, the same day I had been approached to participate in a threesome, I went to the arts festival with Superstar's family, who invited me to watch the boys' dance performance.
It was so great. The five-year-old girl was so happy to see me that she hugged me at least 12 times, and sat on my lap the entire performance. The 11-year-old was thrilled with the book I gave her on early Canadian women settlers (this kid is way too mature for her years. For instance, she's read all of Jane Austen. I'm an English MA student and I still have one Austen book to go!) The boys' dance was great, and I had interesting conversations with Superstar's sister and brother-in-law.
At the end of the night, I hugged them all and they promised to have me over for supper soon. As I walked away, tears began streaming from my eyes. I felt the full impact of the loss of our lives together, being part of that family on a daily basis. I've never felt like part of a real family before, except for when I'm in Italy visiting my family, and I'm lucky if I see them once a decade.
I missed Superstar and what we had together. Particularly juxtaposed against the threesome offer earlier that day. Being the guest star in a liaison with a married couple is perhaps the most casual, uncommitted sex you can have. What Superstar and I had is the polar opposite of that: true intimacy, love, connection, and passion. Next to that, everything else seems so cheap.
I felt as though I had been broken open. For at least two weeks, I cried myself to sleep, feeling the emptiness left by their absence in my life. I realized that I hadn't really dealt with it over the past five months. It dawned on me that my heart is, indeed, broken.
And then, he showed up on my doorstep.
To be continued.Labels: relationships, sex, superstar
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June 25, 2009
Blog business card giveaway
Visit my review site for a chance to win some business cards for your blog. The giveaway closes on July 2. Good luck!Labels: giveaway, reviews
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Savia's pheromones strike again
Awhile ago, I went to a burlesque show with a bunch of friends of friends.
Being the burlesque wannabe that I am, I wore a pink corset with black piping, black lace choker, filmy black skirt with fuchsia underlay, black open-toed heels and a sexy long black jacket I like to call "Matrix chic" (thanks, Abigail, for giving that one up at the last clothing swap!)
My look was such that when we went to the bank machine downtown and I was walking by a guy standing on the corner, he stopped, looked me up and down and said, "Wow. You look fantastic."
Nothing like the drive-by stranger compliment to make a gal's day. And here I was feeling all self-conscious looking like a hooker on a street corner. Oh, well, at least I was a high-class one. Probably expensive, too, because of all the extra time it would take to get me unstrapped from that corset. You pay by the minute, baby. Tick tick tick.
One of the new friends I met that night was a guy dressed in an impeccably tailored gray suit, stylish tie, perfectly polished shoes, and great hair. He fawned over me immediately, "You look so amazing." The compliments flowed throughout the night. He was very friendly, flirtatious and touchy feelie.
I assumed he was gay. Until he started talking about his wife, who would be joining us later on.
"Huh. I guess he's just a very flirtatious meterosexual with great taste in clothes (and women)," I thought.
His wife was awesome. Really nice, smart and funny, just like him. We didn't get to talk a lot, because of all the burlesque action going on. At one point, the guy leaned over to me and said, "My wife has a girl crush on you."
"Aww. How sweet. I really like her, too," I responded.
Later on, we went to get our pictures taken with the burlesque performers. Waiting in line, I noticed the way he touched his wife, stroking her back affectionately. It was obvious they had a really close relationship.
She got tired of waiting and went over to a bench across the room, and I noticed his hand beginning to stroke up and down the curve of my waist, in the same manner as he had touched his wife. Only his hand kept going lower. I thought, "Well, this is interesting," and looked over my shoulder. His wife didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't care.
Maybe she was used to his flirtations and knew they were harmless?
At one point, he tried to hold my hand. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, I linked my arm through his instead. Again, his wife was not too far away and showed no reaction to his display of affection.
I know a lot of guys like that: they're just flirty guys, their wives know it, and it's no big deal if they hit on me blatantly. But, then again, I've known these couples for years, and this is someone I just met that night. I wasn't sure what to think, so I just dismissed the thought.
At the end of the night, he announced that he wasn't working the next day, and we should all come over for some wine on their deck. I agreed, as I wasn't doing anything. Shortly thereafter, I found out the other gal in our group probably wouldn't make it. And then, his wife said, "Oh, I may not get to see you. I have to work tomorrow at 12:30." I responded, "I'll make sure I come over before then - I really want to hang out with both of you!"
So, she was okay with me coming over to her house and spending time alone with her husband, drinking wine. I guess they have a very strong, non-jealous relationship, I thought.
When I got home that night, I added the guy on Facebook (his wife didn't have an account). He immediately added me back, and sent me this message:
"[wife] and i want to do naughty things with you... okay... really, i want to do naughty things with you."
Hmmm. Interesting. Is that a joke or a proposition? So, I wrote back, "I get that a lot, actually," logged off, and went to bed.
The next morning, there's a normal message from him giving their address and saying his wife was really excited about me coming over for drinks. I was curious about the situation, so I grabbed my dog and went.
We sat on their deck and had a great chat. He drank wine, she drank coffee, and I had some Perrier while watching their dog trying to eat my dog's poo. Which was kind of gross. Fortunately, the dog was thwarted by his owners each time. Anyway, it was a great conversation. Then, his wife had to go to work. After she left, the conversation changed just a tad.
Some tidbits:
Guy: You really looked amazing last night. That corset was so hot. When [wife] and I got home after the burlesque show, we were so horny. You featured prominently in our fantasies that night...and again this morning.
Savia: [unfazed] Aw. That's sweet.
Savia: Oh, look. Your dog is trying to hump my dog.
Guy: Is that a euphemism?
Savia: Actually, no. I really was talking about the dogs.
Guy: [talking about how he and his wife like to smoke pot.]
Savia: I had a really bad experience once and didn't do it for three and a half years. Then, Superstar said to me one night, "How about I get you high and go down on you?" And who can say no to that?
Guy: I'd get you high and go down on you.
Savia: [gives him an odd look, like she's not sure she heard him correctly.]
Guy: Just sayin'.
At one point, he grabbed my foot, took off my shoe, and said, "I'm going to massage your foot." Uh, okay. The weird thing is, while he was doing it, it seemed platonic. We were discussing things like home renovations and other benign topics while he massaged my foot and calf. This went on for about 20 minutes or longer, so I was starting to believe that there was nothing more to this. That he really was just an overtly and somewhat overzealously flirty guy. And then, his hands moved up past my knee and started massaging my thigh.
I lost track of what I was saying about whatever topic we had been discussing.
Savia: I...uh...um...what was I saying?
Guy: Is this okay?
Savia: Uh...no.
Guy: I can stop.
Savia: Yeah. Below the knee is okay, but, this...
He moves his hands away from my thigh and I decide to get blunt.
Savia: So, do you guys have an open marriage or what?
Guy: No, we don't have an open marriage, exactly. We enjoy doing our...extracurricular activities together.
Savia: So, you're swingers then.
Guy: No...Well, yes...but not that word.
Savia: Oh, so you like having guest stars.
Guy: Yes.
Savia: So, how does that work, exactly?
We proceeded to have a totally normal conversation about how the "extracurricular activities" work in their relationship. When they agree on someone (his wife likes the ladies with the boobs and hips, so me in the corset must have been quite the draw for both of them), he is the one who does the "recruiting." Then, they all have a good time. Neither of them are jealous at all, because they have trust and a solid relationship. They're just really horny people who like to have a lot of sex with different people, but are committed to each other. The only time there are problems is when the other woman gets emotionally attached to the guy and begins to think there is going to be something more. Then, the wife boots that chick to the curb.
"Interesting," I said.
Now it all made sense. The wife not caring that he was caressing me and trying to hold my hand at the burlesque show, and not showing any concern about me being alone with her husband while she was at work. Clearly, the plan was that he and I would get it on that afternoon, and then, at a later time, the three of us would have naked good times together.
Throughout the conversation, I remained neutral, trying not to show any reaction that would make him think that I was into it, or that I was judging them in any way.
I know another couple who has explored some extracurricular action together, and who has made it clear that I can join them sometime. I think it's great that they have the kind of relationship that can weather an outsider coming in. Plus, it's really hot to hear their stories, and also to fantasize about taking them up on their offer. (What can I say? They're really hot.)
I didn't give the guy any indication of a response, and the conversation topic veered in another benign direction. Though, at one point, there was this:
Guy: Oh, god, you're driving me crazy. Look what you're doing to me.
Savia: Uh. I'm just sitting here, holding my dog.
Guy: Oh, you know what you're doing. This is all your fault.
Savia: Uh...
Guy: Just kidding.
He must have realized that nothing was going to happen that afternoon, so he announced that he had to get back to his gardening, and essentially kicked me out. As he walked me across the street to my car, we chatted about getting together for drinks sometime, and he said something weird about how we should get his wife drunk and high sometime because she's so fun when she's like that.
Alright.
Just before I opened my car door, he came toward me for a kiss. It seemed as though it was going to be a peck on the lips, but I instinctively turned my face so that he caught me just outside the corner of my mouth. And then I left.
I called Diva immediately to tell her the story. She's the friend I always call when something crazy happens, plus, I knew she'd be home during the day. After I was done, she said, "Go for it! And then tell us all about it!" I could hear B-rad in the background, yelling, "Do it!! We want details!!"
My friends, they are oh, so helpful.
I would like to think I am the kind of person who could go through something like this, but deep down, I know this isn't who I am. Sex, to me, is about intimacy. I've never done the casual sex thing, and I don't know that I ever could. However, if this is something that works for guy and his wife, that's great.
They are really cool people and I wouldn't mind seeing them again, but how do you say, "I really like you guys, but not in a you-do-your-wife-from-behind-while-she-goes-down-on-me kind of way"?
They haven't contacted me since. I guess they figured out that I'm just not a threesome kind of gal.
But at least we can all still have the fantasy.Labels: relationships, sex
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