Don’t Plan a Date on a Full Moon: Double-Edged Swords
Well, Boris and I aren’t really the superstitious type….at least, we’re weren’t inclined to be so before this weekend. Now? We’re watching for sidewalk cracks, black cats and ladders.
It was our theory when we first began this thought of swinging that we considered ourselves so lucky because we weren’t enticed into the lifestyle by nefarious sexual imps which is also telling of how impressionistic the sex negative mindset can be. Now that we’ve officially entered into the 5th month without a successful date, read: we’ve wanted to rub genitals with others and had a good time doing it and want to do it again, we’re getting a little desperate.
Flash back to this past weekend, if you’ve been listening to the podcasts (which we know you have and we love you for it!), you’ll remember the couple that we met at the club. We did exchange numbers with them, however, after the excitement of the club, their appeal to me was wearing off rather quickly. Boris, being the laid back one, was still cool enough and interested enough to explore the future. After two couples and a unicorn failed to come up with time to meet (one couple, we’re completely understanding, another not so much and I’m afraid of the unicorn right now- more on that in a podcast later…) we get a text from the club couple. At this point, having the most rare of all rares: an entirely kid free weekend from start to finish, we were sooo desperate.
To spare a lot of details, we met up and it didn’t go well. Stories about many break ups, omissions of jealousy at the club when I played with fishmouth, and a lot of the quiet fights- where couples think they’re being polite by not actually fighting, but you can see the anger/hurt behind it. Spoken plainly: DRAMA. Boris didn’t pick up on this quite as much as I did, but with the prospect of inviting them back to our house did make me a little more nervous.
So, our new little code to signal that I would give to let Boris know we wanted to go back and play, “Le Pinche”, was not initiated. Boris still checked covertly and I covertly said, “No.” I was ready to get out of there. I didn’t feel comfortable. To smooth over, I hastily said something about my birthday to them, which I know was not the right thing to do- but I consider a false invite to a strangers party the least of their worries. We leave and as pissed as I am, I am relieved. We escaped the drama llama.
“I wanted to kiss you so badly tonight. “ Pops up on my phone from the girl. What?! You said you got angry with your husband for sticking his hand on my leg. You had a, “Do not touch me!” look on your face the entire night. Yes, we were at a vanilla bar but we were back in a dark alley as we both walked out of there together. You could have been a little more clear with your intentions and not bring up the worst parts about your relationship in the same tone of expecting the best ‘parts’ out of ours. It was wretched with the stench of “Fix Me.”
Boris asked what he should type back, as it was also sent in the realm of, “We can turn around and follow you home.” I told him nothing. He looked up at the moon and said, “Well, that explains it all. Fuck you, moon!”
On a positive note: We had the most awesome sex with each other. We remembered that we shouldn’t be so desperate. And, admittedly, it made the night better because it did remind us of how wonderful a relationship we do have. Oh double-edged swords…