Part 2: Wherein we have monogamous group sex and some other things happen
(You may be looking for Part 1)

I. Monogamous Group Sex

It was during an evening of drinking and watching TV at their place that the four of us first had monogamous group sex, or same-room sex if you prefer, or watching and being watched while fucking if the other two terms are too unclear. I’m not sure how it all started, though if I remember right my girlfriend and I initiated it, and Danny and Joan followed suit. As I recall alcohol was involved. Danny was quite the bartender, and would regularly mix a variety of drinks for us when we came to visit. I’m certain he was hoping the alcohol would lower my girlfriend’s inhibitions and, being a club-going, booze-fueled party girl in her early twenties, she didn’t have a problem with that. Neither did I; she was gorgeous, his interest in her was a turn-on, and I was certainly down with social nudity and same-room fucking.

These shenanigans occurred several times over the next year and a half, usually at their place but a couple times at my own. In summer we’d go to my parents’ house to skinny-dip in their pool when they were out of town. Afterwards we would often fuck side-by-side on the guest bed. It was exciting and taboo to see them naked and in a relatively vulnerable position (or sometimes several), though the four of us never discussed taking it any further, i.e. threesomes or swapping, outside of fantasy. At least on the surface, we were all happy with simultaneous voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Sure, I would have liked things to go further and I suspect that I wasn’t the only one. But I knew it wasn’t going to happen. At one point Danny and Joan told me that they thought it was easier and less of a risk for my girlfriend and I since we were just dating and they were married. That didn’t make much sense to me at the time, and it still doesn’t. It seemed that there was less risk for a married couple than one who was just dating. A married couple is presumably sufficiently confident in their relationship to chance doing something of this nature, something at the relatively non-threatening end of the non-monogamy spectrum. After all, they’re married! Why would they be married if there was a risk of something like this hurting their relationship? And if there was a risk, why would they do it?

And regarding our own relationship, although they didn’t say it, I guess they figured that if what we were doing tore apart my relationship with my girlfriend, there wasn’t much to lose since we hadn’t made it legal, hadn’t dropped thousands of dollars on a wedding ceremony and reception, posed for professional photographs, and began accruing debt together. It seemed a strange way of looking at it, but I was happy watching them fuck and having them watch us, so I smiled and nodded. As far as I was concerned, things were perfect.

II. Maybe Things Weren’t So Perfect After All

I was well aware that Danny wanted to have sex with my girlfriend. Most guys did. Either one-on-one, or in the context of a threesome with his wife (despite the fact that she’s always claimed vehemently that she wasn’t attracted to women and certainly wouldn’t have agreed to it), he made no secret of wanting to suck her 36C breasts, have her suck his cock, fuck her doggy-style over the back of the couch while cupping her breasts from behind, then pull out and come in her mouth. It came up so often that some thirteen years later I still remember the details of this, his most prominent fantasy about her. My girlfriend was flattered, and I didn’t mind the idle fantasizing. Joan, however, definitely would have.

Though I wasn’t aware of any specifics beyond Danny’s frequenting of strip clubs and the like, it was apparent that she had jealousy issues, likely related at least in part to body image. At the time, I found this strange; she was never particularly out of shape or unattractive. Now, though, I realize that there’s no way of knowing what’s in someone’s head – or what’s in their heart – and thus no means of determining what unrealistic standard they’re determined to reach.

In retrospect, this might have been an indication that we shouldn’t have been playing with them at all. My relationship with my girlfriend, though not without the occasional instance of minor-league drama, was definitely on more secure footing than theirs. When my friend and her husband temporarily separated some years later, I know Danny tried to get in touch with my girlfriend – by then my ex – with the intention of getting laid. And once they’d had sex, he hoped to resume having monogamous group sex with her, Jill, and myself. Anyway, they never did end up getting together.

III. Joan Gets Separated

A year or so after the same-room sex stopped for good, Joan was pregnant. I was happy for them; they were good friends, and it seemed like this was what they’d been leading toward, as all relatively newly-married couples seem to be conditioned to procreate and continue the cycle. Perhaps the monogamous group sex we’d shared was simply them exorcising the last of their wild and crazy demons before settling down. I don’t mean for it to sound like I was upset or bitter over the cessation of what we were doing. It was necessary as I’d broken up with my girlfriend and I was sensible enough to know that they weren’t going to invite me into their bedroom to watch and jerk off. Nothing lasts forever.

During the aforementioned separation, Danny would occasionally message Jill – or vice versa – hoping for some dirty talk leading to orgasm. It was not unusual for Jill to receive an email or an instant message detailing a sex dream he’d had the night before, or a fantasy he was currently entertaining. Such fantasies were not unlike the ones he’d had of my ex-girlfriend, though he appeared to have a broader range of fantasies starring Jill including but not limited to quick, nasty rough sex, and various forms of group sex as well. On occasion they masturbated together while IMing dirty, sometimes while he was at home and other times while locked safely in his office at work. He expressed an interest in watching Jill and I have sex, and if we were all comfortable taking it further, joining us for a threesome. While Jill was flattered and aroused by his interest she wasn’t ready to cross that line; this was seven or eight years ago and she wasn’t sure whether such things were better left a fantasy. Of course, Jill and I have no secrets from each other; needless to say she kept me apprised of their interactions. I can’t say for sure, but I think I still have transcripts from some of their chats.

At around the same time, Joan began to express some measure of sexual interest in me for the first time. It was much more overt than I’d ever expected. This wasn’t let’s-fuck-our-respective-partners-in-the-same-bed. This was far more demonstrative and explicit than that. This was a woman who, out from under the watchful eye of her husband, felt free to own her sexuality. The “like a brother” block was suddenly nonexistent; she shared every fantasy she was currently entertaining about me (or ever had entertained), and it turned out she was a lot more sexually openminded than I could ever have guessed. It was exciting for me, as I had long wished for this kind of interaction with her, and knowing that she found me sexually attractive was gratifying even though I didn’t suspect I’d ever actually have sex with her. (Spoiler: I never did.)

Moreover, it lent creedence to the above-stated theory that her stilted, awkward body language was just a means of hiding her attraction to me. Suddenly I began to see many of our interactions over the past several years in a different light. Though I knew she was bound to some extent by her own boundaries and notions of what was proper and what was not, I wondered if she would have wanted to swap partners while we were having same-room sex years before. As I knew she harbored fantasies of threesomes with two men, I wondered if she would have been open to me as a third. It was a moot point; those days were long since over, and despite his interest in having a threesome with Jill and I, I doubted Danny would have been into sharing his own wife.

Over a period of a year or more, Joan and I didn’t often see each other socially, but we conversed frequently via instant messenger. Dirty talk wasn’t uncommon, and video chatting via Skype did occur. Though I found it fun and exciting – it was, after all, the culmination of many years of pent-up lust – I got the disctinct sense that she felt shame and guilt, or at the very least hesitation, like she couldn’t believe she had to stoop to flirting with me in order to feel desired. Her heart wasn’t in it, or perhaps she just wasn’t all that good at it. Either way, I suspected that though she seemed excited and usually engaged when it was happening, afterwards she might have felt lousy about having done it. Still, it went on for quite awhile. She never sent a sexy photo or took off her clothes while Skyping. In fact, she didn’t even have the lights on, which afforded me at best a view of her glasses as the light from her laptop reflected off of them. This furthered my suspicion that she had a deep-rooted lack of self-esteem. She enjoyed it when I told her that I found her attractive and sexy, but she wasn’t about to let me see her naked lest my feelings changed.

She watched Jill and I have sex via Skype at least once, though she didn’t do anything beyond study our performance the way one might watch a moderately-entertaining spectacle. Jill and I were having fun regardless, but a little more interaction would have been nice. Throughout, she was hesitant to offer any feedback, as though too embarrassed to admit that she was enjoying the show. Some time later, she invited us over to the apartment she shared with her five-year-old daughter and a roommate who happened to be out of town, hinting that she’d like to watch us have sex in person. When we got there, she attempted to ply us with beer and wine in order to lower our inhibitions. While we enjoyed drinking at her house, Jill and I ultimately decided not to fuck there, as it would have felt weird doing so with her daughter asleep in the next room. Nowadays, as the parents of a young daughter ourselves, we might go along with it. We know better about what to expect with a sleeping child in the house. After all, we frequently have sex with our daughter asleep in the next room. Back then, though, it felt weird.

Shortly after Jill and I found out that we were expecting, Danny came over to watch us. Knowing that we were going to have sex – and perhaps more – he brought over a bottle of wine. Since Jill couldn’t imbibe, we had to let him know of her pregnancy weeks before we told most of our friends. Hey, guess what, everybody? We don’t need alcohol to get us in the mood. We’re always like this. Obviously booze doesn’t impede our arousal or raise our inhibitions, but it makes you look a bit like a date rapist trying to get us drunk in order to see the goods. Just, you know, a word of friendly advice.

Anyway, Jill and I had sex, and we put on our usual amazing performance. But like his wife, our spectator just stood there and watched with all the enthusiasm of a judge on The Gong Show. Afterwards he said he enjoyed the show, but while it was happening there wasn’t much in the way of positive feedback: No verbal encouragement, and no touching his erection through his pants (if he even had one), so obviously he wasn’t about to get naked and join in. I don’t know if he just wasn’t sure what our boundaries were and didn’t think to ask – the same thing happened to me during a similar experience – but while he and Jill were communicating regularly it was made clear that she’d be okay with a little fooling around, likely some oral sex if not actual penetration. And while we appreciated his cautious respect, we were both surprised by his restraint.

IV. Wherein Joan and Danny Try it Again

Eventually they got back together, quietly and without any major fanfare or proclamation on social media. And I won’t lie, I kind of missed our flirting and Skyping. Even though she wasn’t the most dynamic flirting partner I’d ever had, I enjoyed having a friendship with her that could turn sexual at the drop of a hat, and in fact usually was sexual. But more than anything, I enjoyed the total honesty and refreshing lack of bullshit while it lasted. Once she and her husband got back together the familiar frostiness set in and it was business as usual: Awkward stiltedness, with any communication between her and I polite but not at all familiar. You know, just like siblings!

As always, I never felt entitled to more. First off, despite his dalliances during the separation, I was sure that her husband wouldn’t have approved of hers with me, and even if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted them to continue now that they were back together. To suggest that she should have maintained our connection for my sake – or even for hers – now that they were trying to patch things up would have been the epitome of privileged white male shitheadedness. No worries there, because everything stopped abruptly. It’s just as well, as I had a baby to focus on pretty much around the clock. Honestly, the timing worked out pretty well.

Since then, our interactions have been limited to social functions, such as our daughter’s birthday parties. Even then, Jill gets a hug while I’m lucky if I get a mumbled hello. Online interactions are usually limited to her messaging me to ask what size our daughter wears, generally just prior to said parties. Not much small talk, either; our instant messenger conversations are in some ways just as awkward and abrupt as our face-to-face conversations. So, more or less the same as it was before. Until earlier this month, that is.

Coming up next: Part 3 (Events of the last month or so)

“Do you want to get up and shower,” she asks me, “or lie here until someone comes looking for us?”  She doesn’t even have to ask; she knows my answer is the same as hers.  Wrapped in each other’s arms, we fall asleep to the sound of our still-thundering heartbeats.

See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss.

Part 1: The high school and college years

I. Introduction

As you may have gleaned from the title of this post, the story contained herein doesn’t have a happy ending. However, when all is said and done I think you’ll agree that the fact that the story has an ending is a good thing. The friend I lost didn’t die after a long illness, forcing me to watch her waste further away with each hospital visit. She didn’t marry an abusive prick who won’t let her have a Facebook account and doesn’t let her go grocery shopping alone lest she have contact with male friends. We didn’t drift apart after long periods spent hanging out with other friends or pursuing interests we don’t have in common.

After years of indifference, this friendship didn’t die gradually, like so many friendships that peter out with a whimper of indifference. No, it imploded this week after years of feelings that ran the gamut from mutual physical attraction to emotional comfort, though never quite love, unless one includes the sort of platonic love associated with a decades-long friendship or even a familial relationship. However, there was never anything approaching resentment, bitterness, or betrayal. That is, until now.

Before I go any further, I feel the need to state that I accept my share of the blame for this situation, though I don’t believe it’s entirely my fault. Did I do things that I perhaps shouldn’t have? Of course. It wouldn’t be me otherwise. But I’d like to think that, at least most of the time, I behaved in a more or less ethical fashion and showed respect for most if not all concerned parties. You may feel differently, and I won’t necessarily say that you’re wrong. But I believe that I’m at least mostly right, if not necessarily that I was at least mostly in the right.

I realize that my tantalizing promise of “resentment, bitterness, or betrayal” may lead you to believe that this is a soap opera-like story of intrigue, crime, and melodrama. However, even when my life briefly flirts with resentment, bitterness, and betrayal, it’s still pretty boring despite the fact that I managed to crank out more than ten thousand words telling the story. If you require something a bit more exciting, perhaps you’d care to stop reading now and check out one of the many edgy dramatic series currently in production. May I suggest Netflix’ House of Cards, Starz’s Black Sails, or perhaps Cinemax’s Banshee?

II. Backstory

Joan and I have known each other for almost twenty-seven years, since we attended seventh grade at the same school. We didn’t really consider ourselves friends and in fact rarely spoke until our sophomore year of high school. I’d taken a long vacation with my family and I thought of her the whole time I was away. I’m not sure why; she was barely on my radar at the time, but she always seemed like a nice person, so I decided to ask her out when I returned. I was fifteen and she was sixteen. I had no idea if she was allowed to date or what, but if necessary I figured I’d present it to her parents as though we were hanging out as friends, and then gradually ingratiate myself to them and prove myself boyfriend material as I became a familiar sight around their house.

One night shortly after I returned from my trip I found myself on her parents’ couch, watching television. I don’t remember which early-1990s sitcom happened to be on; I wasn’t paying close attention and at any rate it was probably not even something I would have watched on my own. Eventually I put my arm around her, and while she didn’t move in closer or return the gesture, she didn’t pull away or shake off my arm. I attempted to kiss her but she turned her head away. It was clear that she was trying to pretend she hadn’t noticed, ostensibly to protect my feelings or, in retrospect, to save herself the guilt of having to hurt them. Anyway, I got the message.

We remained friends. I was never the sort of guy who’d shun somebody simply for not taking a romantic or sexual interest in him. I remember feeling pangs of jealousy as she dated other guys, including the guy who took her virginity junior year. He was someone I’d known since second grade and considered a friend. But, convinced that I was now a threat, he essentially stopped being friends with me.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never been the overly aggressive jealous boyfriend type when my romantic or sexual partners have had male friends or contact with their exes. First off, if you’ve ever met me you know I’m not the sort who could pull off the psycho boyfriend thing. I just don’t have the demeanor or the personality for that kind of thing. But moreso I just never wanted to be an asshole. That’s not who I am as a person, it never was even in my younger days when I was prone to feeling threatened, and when I eventually stopped feeling romantic and sexual jealousy it was probably to be expected.

I still felt a tinge of sexual envy when she asked me to come with her to buy some condoms. She’d just started going out with the guy who considered me a threat, though at that point I don’t think he saw me as one yet. (Actually, maybe it was the fact that I went condom-shopping with his girlfriend that set him off.) I know most guys wouldn’t go shopping for condoms with a woman unless he was going to use them with her, but I didn’t care about what most guys would do. If I did, I would have been a lot more like most guys, and a lot less like myself. Maybe on some level I hoped she’d remember that I’d agreed to come with her and show her gratitude by letting me fuck her someday, but I think it was more of a fantasy than anything else: Then, as now, I required no quid pro quo to perform a favor for a friend, and perhaps moreso, I was a realist and knew that such a minor favor would be repaid with sex only in porn films.

We went to a local Walgreens drug store to buy the condoms. She chose a store a few cities away, ostensibly so we wouldn’t be spotted by anyone we knew. She was so nervous while trying to select the right ones that she knocked over a countertop sunglasses display, to my mortification and the slight amusement of everyone else present. I don’t remember what brand she picked out – Trojans, probably; at the time they were the Jack Daniels of condoms – but she gave me the money and lurked near the entrance while I courageously faced the cashier and purchased them. I took half as payment for my bravery.

III. The Intervening Years

As time passed, we weren’t always close, but we were always friends. It was conceivable that we might not talk at all for months, whether due to a full load of college classes, new relationships, work, travel, or who knows what. But when one of us would inevitably call, text, email or IM the other, we immediately fell back into the comfortable groove of friendship and it was great.

I remained attracted to her through the years, though any romantic overtures were politely deflected with “You’re like a brother to me!” or similar. I assumed at the time that she was simply trying to let me down easily; we weren’t quite that close, and while she had attended the occasional family party or other social gathering, so did numerous other women who may or may not have slept with me, but who didn’t give me a bunch of nonsense about that making me their honorary sibling. Besides, one night when we were in college she had attempted to initiate sex, though as I was in a relationship I reluctantly declined.

Whatever the reason, I accepted that she found me not to be her type, and I respected her feelings. I didn’t express my interest in her often, and I was never aggressive or obnoxious about it. Likewise, her reaction to my attraction was never one of offense or even distaste. At times I got the distinct sense that she found it flattering. And while I’m certain some would feel that I was way out of line for daring to bring it up again in, say, 1997 after being shot down in 1992, I saw things differently.

I’ve never been one to assume, or to feel entitled. Certainly not when it comes to my interactions with women. You’ve undoubtedly read elsewhere on this blog (as recently as this week’s TMI Tuesday) that I require (or at least prefer) an explicit statement of expectation from potential partners beforehand, as I am not a mind reader. I’ve always taken consent very seriously, and I’m not the kind of guy who’d take advantage of a situation where consent hasn’t been explicitly granted. That doesn’t just apply to physical contact. That also applies to flirting and dirty talk of the sort referred to as sexting, the sending of explicit photos, and sharing with others of photos sent to me. I wouldn’t dream of doing any of these things unless I was absolutely certain that was what the other party wanted, and in the case of sharing photos sent by others, I wouldn’t even do that with permission. Likewise, if she’d reacted with distaste or offense to my first attempt to initiate physical contact, there wouldn’t have been a second attempt. But she didn’t seem traumatized by it, nor do I have any reason to believe that she actually was, and therefore I saw no harm in asking her again some years later when we were both single.

IV. Joan Gets Married

She eventually invited me to her wedding. I felt no jealousy for Danny, her husband-to-be, as I was in my early twenties by this point and generally had no need for such negative emotions. Yes, I cared for her, but I didn’t feel anything romantic or even particularly emotional. Beyond our ongoing friendship there was still some sexual attraction – whether mutual or unrequited I didn’t know, nor did I care – which I was reasonably certain would never be consummated.

Her body language around me was always somewhat stilted and awkward. I suspect that this was a deliberate attempt to defuse any attraction I may have felt for her, though in my own defense I never made my attraction obvious or otherwise tried to make her feel uncomfortable or undermine her relationships or marriage. I am just enough of an egomaniac that I can’t help but wonder if she felt as I did all along, and that the awkwardness was her way of downplaying it so her husband wouldn’t suspect. Probably not, though; it isn’t as though she insisted on long, slow hugs when her husband wasn’t around.

I perceived some degree of sexual openmindedness in the two of them, especially in her. That doesn’t necessarily mean that they were, or even that I thought they were, open to any sort of kink or experimentation; for me it was exciting enough to know that they could say the word “sex” without whispering, giggling, blushing, or turning to stone. Most of my friends, both male and female, were far more reticent about it. One day I overheard her talking to a girlfriend of mine about lube, amongst other topics one might not discuss in so-called polite company. Suddenly I found my desire for her renewed. Again, I’m not saying that her willingness to talk about sex in any way translates to consent, or even interest. It just reminded me of why I might have found her attractive in the first place.

Coming up next:  Part 2 (Wherein we have monogamous group sex and some other things happen)

It is Monday. In my head is a scary place to be. Here’s what is flowing out of my brain for this TMI Tuesday…

WTH is she thinking?!

Jack’s Answers

1. You have been asked to organize a sex & kink weekend. Will you be more of a “hands-on” person or more of an “ideas” person?
I like to think of myself as both, at least when it comes to the sexual realm. I’ve been to enough play parties, kink clubs and such to have some ideas about what makes them fun and engaging to attendees, and I feel like I could contribute in that area. However, if you think I’m the sort of person who would be better utilized behind the scenes at such an event than right in the mix, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m very hands-on, and what better place to be hands-on than at some sort of sex-positive event?

2. Assuming you are the hands-on type at this weekend sex romp, and you’ve entered a tent to ‘play’ with a male/female couple. Would you like to be given clear instructions before you begin to ‘play’ or do you prefer to be given the general idea of the task and work it out your own way.
The general idea is probably sufficient. While I do prefer knowing the boundaries and expectations of the other parties involved, I’m not so bereft of ideas and imagination that I need instructions beforehand, nor am I sufficiently submissive that I want to be told what to do. Thus a brief but explicit statement of the couple’s boundaries is probably all that is needed. In my single days, I actually found myself faced with such an opportunity, but unaware that the couple wanted me to join in, I just watched.

3. True or False. “During sex, I like to hear and accept feedback.”
True. My enjoyment level during sex is directly related to my partner’s enjoyment level. I tend to have less fun if my partner isn’t also having fun. That doesn’t necessarily mean orgasm. It simply means pleasure and gratification, whatever that entails for her. Accordingly, I want to know if what I’m doing at any given moment is having the desired effect. And I take feedback well, whether positive or negative. Don’t want your feet touched at all? By all means, let me know! Don’t like the way I’m fingering your G-spot? Let me know that too! Not into G-spot play at all? No need to put up with unwanted sensation! I’ll never figure it out unless you tell me.

4. What are you wearing right now?
Cargo shorts, and underneath it a sexy black pair of boxer briefs. And that’s it. I don’t like wearing clothing to be honest.

5. I show loyalty to my lover by ________ .
Always putting her first in every possible way. While I am physically non-monogamous with leanings toward polyamory and thus capable of multiple relationships, feelings toward multiple people, and certainly flirtation and meaningless – as well as meaningful – sex, I’d like to believe that I have consistently managed to convince Jill that she is the most important person in my entire world. I do this by supporting her emotionally, always being there for her and our daughter, and on at least one occasion completely reordering my life for the sake of her career. Perhaps most significantly, I show Jill loyalty by never engaging in any extracurricular sexual activity without her express consent.

6. Do you always have to argue?
No. I never have to argue. However, there are lots of things that I don’t have to do but do anyway because it can be a lot of fun. I don’t have to eat greasy cheeseburgers. I don’t have to watch Key & Peele. I don’t have to post naked pictures of my wife or myself to this blog every Sunday. I don’t have to make up obscene lyrics to the theme songs of the cartoons my daughter watches. I don’t have to masturbate like one of those monkeys with the swollen red ass. I don’t have to do any of those things, but I still do. And while I don’t have to argue, I sometimes do, though it depends on the issue and the other party. I’m less likely to attempt to change the mind of a complete stranger as I don’t know this person nor his or her reason for having a political opinion with which I disagree. But a family member who has Fox News playing on television? I’ll debate that ignorant motherfucker until they change the channel or throw me out of their home. Expect the frequency and intensity of my arguments to increase as we get closer to the 2016 presidential election.

Bonus: Pick up the closest book to you, open it to page 55. The first line on that page reads: ________ .
When I answered these questions, the book that was closest to me was one of my daughter’s beginning-reader books, and only went up to page 33. However, I went into my office, which has no shortage of reading material, and tried again. This time the line reads “2575: Great Pyramid of Khufu (Cheops), largest of the Egyptian pyramids, is built at Giza.”

Jill’s Answers

1. You have been asked to organize a sex & kink weekend. Will you be more of a “hands-on” person or more of an “ideas” person?
I’ll go with hands-on. I wouldn’t want to come up with the ideas but be shut out of participating in them. I love sex, and I am always excited by the idea of experiencing it in a group setting or otherwise socially with multiple people present. The thought of planning such an event but not getting to enjoy it in a hands-on fashion makes me really sad. However, I have no problem participating in a sex party that I didn’t have a hand in planning. I’ll be curious to see if any of our fellow TMI Tuesday identified themselves as idea people as opposed to hands-on people.

2. Assuming you are the hands-on type at this weekend sex romp, and you’ve entered a tent to ‘play’ with a male/female couple. Would you like to be given clear instructions before you begin to ‘play’ or do you prefer to be given the general idea of the task and work it out your own way.
I want to be told very clearly what the couple’s boundaries are, and what I’m allowed or not allowed to do. Once I know their limits I’m happy to go with the flow. I like spontaneity, and I don’t want or need to follow a script. But in the past when we’ve had a threesome with another woman (or for that matter another man), it’s been very important that my boundaries be respected. I wouldn’t want a third to inadvertently violate one of my boundaries or otherwise do something I wasn’t okay with, and I wouldn’t want to do that to someone else. Therefore I would rather not rely on body language or other nonverbal cues.

3. True or False. “During sex, I like to hear and accept feedback.”
True. I like to know that I’m doing it right. Different people like different things sexually. In fact, the same person might like and dislike different things from session to session. If I know I’m doing it right, it encourages me to keep doing what I’m doing. If a partner gives me gently corrects my technique or otherwise tells me to try something else, I gladly accept their feedback because I enjoy giving my partner pleasure, and I’d like to think my efforts will be reciprocated.

4. What are you wearing right now?
Jeans, a cute black and pink bra, and an apron. I just finished doing some baking, hence the apron. I don’t like wearing much clothing around the house, which is why I’m only wearing a bra. As for why I’m wearing jeans as opposed to just panties, your guess is as good as mine. I guess I just didn’t get around to taking off my jeans before I started baking. I’ll fix that now.

5. I show loyalty to my lover by ________ .
Being completely trustworthy and treating him in a manner that befits his position as the number-one person in my life. I do this in pretty much every possible way.

6. Do you always have to argue?
No. I rarely argue, actually. I don’t see the point in trying to persuade others to see things my way. It doesn’t seem to accomplish anything, and in fact can cause problems in existing relationships. I might be inclined to have a civil, constructive discussion and present the reasons why I hold the position that I hold, but I don’t argue. I’m confident in my opinions and don’t see a reason to try and force others into my way of thinking.

Bonus: Pick up the closest book to you, open it to page 55. The first line on that page reads: ________ .
“Although fountain proprietors haven’t actually used sodium bicarbonate to make water bubbly for nearly two hundred years, the term soda stuck around.”

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

 

 

 

 

 

 

We had a very busy Saturday, but lucky Jill managed a quick nap between family engagements.

See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!

 

Part III:  Epilogue

(Part I can be found here)
(Part II can be found here)

Later they found themselves downstairs, occupying a table at the lobby bar. He’d changed into a pair of slacks and a dress shirt; she was wearing the maxi dress in which she’d arrived, and though she’d put her bra back on, this time she decided to leave the panties off. He had no idea until she flashed him in the elevator.

They shared a bottle of wine. It was difficult to choose, but he ultimately decided on a bottle of Pinot Noir from a New Zealand vineyard that he said he enjoyed. They sat there in silence for a long moment, sipping the last of their wine and enjoying each other’s company. It still hadn’t occurred to her that she was actually sitting in his presence. Although it had been hours since the cab had dropped her off she hadn’t had time to think.

Now that she was able to think, she found herself truly happy to be in his company, and not just because of the sex. They had a close rapport, one that transcended mere friendship. She liked him, that much was obvious; she’d known him, albeit strictly online, for longer than some of her close friends, and it was natural that she would develop intimate feelings for him. He made her feel like it was okay for her to simply be herself. He eradicated her doubts, and made her feel whole. It was easy to be with him, whether sitting together and enjoying some wine or lying naked in a huge bed enjoying afterglow.

They walked through the lobby, enjoying a heady buzz. As they passed the four shiny stone rings – or were they hoops? – she paused to admire the work of art. He stopped by her side, regarding it as well.

“What do you think it means?” she asked, looking up at him with bright, inquisitive eyes.

A few seconds passed before he answered. “Well, they look like rings. And traditionally a ring is meant to symbolize something that never ends. That’s why people wear wedding rings: To symbolize an ever-lasting commitment.”

“Is that why?” Becca asked. “Not just because they fit on people’s fingers?” He smiled at her little joke, then gazed into her eyes and kissed her. As they continued to the elevators, she considered that they would be a perfect match, if not for the fact that they were both already married.

 

Happy TMI Tuesday and…

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

Jack’s Answers

1. You found your pot o’ gold. How much is in the pot? What will you do with your gold?
In the pot is an infinite amount of gold which I will use to ensure a comfortable and happy life for myself and my loved ones, and cure all of society’s ills. With this gold I will end poverty and inequality, repair the environment, buy off the keepers of the status quo who would try to stop me, and most importantly educate the younger generation so that the problems I’ve just solved will never be problems again.

2. Some things get better with age, have you? What specifically has gotten better?
My sex drive has certainly gotten better, unless “better” means “slowed-down to a reasonable level”. While my drive has always been incredibly high, as I’ve gotten older I notice that my stamina has increased, as have my consideration for the needs of my partners, and my sexual performance as a whole. I take sex more seriously, and as a result I am better at it. Even when I was younger and I would consume literally any piece of sex-related literature I could get my hands on – I’m not talking about porn magazines but rather anything that I thought would make me better at it – I wasn’t quite as good as I am these days.

3. Are you above average or below average?
Are we talking temperature? Height? Weight? Demeanor? Talents in the kitchen? Talents in the bedroom? Penis size? You’ll need to be specific.

4. What was the last romantic act you did for someone? Did they appreciate it?
I always walk Jill to the door when she’s leaving for work in the morning, and hold it open for her. She’s usually got her hands full, what with her laptop, her coffee cup, her water bottle, and whatever else she needs to take with her, and I’d feel like an inattentive husband if I made her open the door herself.

5. Think back to your very last argument, whose fault was it?
My last argument was probably with my Mom over something related to my daughter. I can’t say for sure, but it was more than likely a less-than-patient response to my Mom spoiling her. She does that a lot, and apparently I’m required to just grin and bear it. Can’t vent about it on Facebook because if I do a bunch of hens that serve as my mother’s blue-haired Mafia family immediately try to shame me for daring to question the paradigm that has served grandparents for generations (though I don’t recall being particularly spoiled by my own). Anyway, my wife and I bust our collective ass to make sure that our daughter is being raised properly, not being given toys and gifts for no reason, not overindulging on sweets, and essentially understanding the value of money and good dental hygiene. Then we’re supposed to just deal with it when my mother comes to town and buys her “something small” (usually several somethings small) and so much sugary crap that looks pretty in the grocery store or bakery but of which our daughter is realistically probably not going to eat more than a couple bites. Hey, if you want to throw your cash away, cut me a check. I’ll see that it’s put to good use. I have no problem being the bad guy when the situation dictates. I have no problem telling her no. But it’s a lot easier to tell my mother no, at which point an argument can sometimes ensue.

Bonus: I have an overactive _____ .
Libido? I feel like I have to go with “libido” on this. I realize that most human beings don’t think about sex as much as I do, nor do they – the males, at least – have the ability or the desire to have sex as much or as often as I do. I understand that, on some level, this is not “normal”, to the extent that I concern myself with normalcy (i.e., I don’t). However, while I am content to acknowledge that I am aroused more than is convenient and more than I have an ability to do anything about it, to me it doesn’t seem overactive. To me it feels normal.

 

Jill’s Answers

1. You found your pot o’ gold. How much is in the pot? What will you do with your gold?
If we’re going to talk fantasy scenarios, I say go big or go home. I’d like at least ten million dollars, as that seems like it would be enough to live comfortably for the rest of our lives. We could pay off our house and all of our debt and travel the world. I wouldn’t work, either. While I do enjoy teaching, if I was that wealthy I wouldn’t do it anymore. Instead, how about putting another ten million into the pot so I could help to fund public education as it deserves?

2. Some things get better with age, have you? What specifically has gotten better?
I think that I have gotten better with age. I know my body better than I did when I was younger, and am more in control of my own pleasure. I think Jack and the other amazing lovers I’ve had throughout my life have helped me with that. So I definitely get more pleasure than I did in my twenties, which has assured that I have gotten happier with age as well.

3. Are you above average or below average?
I think I am above average in some ways. At the risk of sounding conceited, I am above average when it comes to intelligence, skill in the kitchen, and happiness. I am the best wife and mother that I can be, and that has put me above average in those areas as well. I also believe that I am above average sexually. I get the sense that I am a much better lover (and accordingly, much better-sexed) than most of my friends and co-workers. Probably many or most of my relatives as well. I tend not to have the usual hang-ups when it comes to sex, and while I may not be the youngest or the thinnest or the wildest, my sex life isn’t just above average, it’s pretty much perfect.

4. What was the last romantic act you did for someone? Did they appreciate it?
The other night I went to three different stores to hunt down the ingredients to make some homemade chocolate candy for Jack because he mentioned that he had liked it the last time I made it. And I didn’t waste any time, either. He said it, and half an hour later I was on my way to the first store. I made it as soon as I got home and presented it to Jack before he went to bed that night. And yes, he appreciated it. Jack likes my abilities in the kitchen almost as much as he likes my abilities in the bedroom.

5. Think back to your very last argument, whose fault was it?
Probably mine. Sometimes the stress of teaching thirty kids and raising one of my own can be overwhelming, and I find myself getting upset easily. That said, I don’t remember the actual argument. I have no idea what it was about, or even who it was with.

Bonus: I have an overactive _____ .
Imagination. Definitely imagination. It isn’t all bad, though. While most people hear “overactive imagination” and think of children who see monsters in their closet, adults who constantly suspect their spouses of cheating, or people who daydream when they should be focused. However, I find that my overactive imagination comes in handy because I’m an elementary school teacher, and I need to be engaging and creative. Being extremely imaginative helps in this regard.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

*Disclaimer: This is not my photo. However, all kidding aside I wouldn’t mind having a room just for Star Wars memorabilia. Maybe when I find that pot of gold.

Usually we post a single image of Jill.  But it takes six of me to be as hot as one of her.

See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!

 

I felt compelled to share a news story I came across a few days ago in which a Central California woman stabbed her husband after “arguing about [nude] photos on a phone”. He was hospitalized and has since been released, she was booked on suspicion of attempted murder and held in lieu of half a million dollars bail, and their two children have been remanded to Child Protective Services.

The article, the first one I happened to read about the case, goes into no detail. We aren’t told whether the nude photos were received from or sent to an outside party. We don’t know whether stabby wife caught her husband sending or receiving said photos, or whether the husband had caught stabby wife sending or receiving them. All the article states is that nude photos were indirectly responsible for a domestic stabbing.

However, many of the follow-up articles published in the days since the story broke state that the stabby wife – one Jasmine M. Teltow – discovered the photos on her husband’s phone, and that they depict “one of the man’s ex-girlfriends”.

I’m not one to try and justify domestic violence, and I’m certainly not going to do so here. But I could almost put myself in Teltow’s shoes if, say, her husband had received the photos from a woman with whom he’d been having an ongoing thing behind his wife’s back. Even if it wasn’t physical – say, someone he met and interacted with online, or an old high school friend with whom he’d reconnected through Facebook – if the rules of their marriage forbid such a thing and he broke those rules, I could almost see where she’s coming from on this.

Wait. No I can’t. She fucking stabbed the guy with a kitchen knife. In fact, per the second article, Teltow stabbed him in the neck. We are not led to believe that she attacked him in self-defense, i.e. she confronted him, he punched her, and she stabbed him. No, she lashed out from a place of fear and inadequacy, because she felt threatened by his having nude photos of another woman on his phone. That motivated her to stab him, ostensibly with the intention of ending his life, because let’s face it, the neck isn’t the fleshy part of the thigh. You go for the neck, you understand that whatever’s on your DVR is going to have to wait until you’ve disposed of the body, mopped the floor, and burned the knife, the mop, and your clothing.

So no, I can’t put myself in her shoes, but I can understand her anger at least in theory. Even if I am not prone to jealousy in such situations, even if I don’t believe that humans are naturally wired to be monogamous, I have to acknowledge that we are socialized that way, and further we are conditioned to feel possessive of our single mate, and to exhibit jealousy, if not necessarily violence, when that possession is challenged, even on a minor level.

And it does seem to be a minor level, doesn’t it? For all we know, based solely on the information given in the two articles I linked, the nude photos were ones the husband had been holding onto since he and the ex-girlfriend were dating. I have pictures of ex-girlfriends going back to before I had a smartphone. Actually, I have pictures of ex-girlfriends going back to before I had a digital camera. I know that I’ve put old photos on my phone for the sake of convenience, as it’s a lot easier to jerk off looking at my relatively small Android phone than it is to lug my laptop from room to room. So it is plausible that he might have done so as well.

Though I have no way of knowing for sure, there has been no indication that the husband was still in contact with the ex-girlfriend featured in the photos, much less that he was involved in an ongoing clandestine relationship with her, or that the pictures had been sent recently. It is conceivable that he just wanted to jerk off to a picture of his ex. That is seemingly no worse than pornography, though I suspect that a woman who’d stab the father of her children for having nude photos of another woman probably isn’t down with him watching porn.

I do, however, accept that there is a difference between the two. Porn features largely unattainable fantasy scenarios that most people probably understand aren’t going to happen to them. Even a random photo of an anonymous nude woman found on the internet carries no implications; it’s just something sexy to look at while getting off. But for some people – many people? – the perceived connection to an ex-girlfriend, even one out of the picture for many years, equals a threat.

But why is that? Is our ability to trust others so non-existent, and our expectation of others to hurt us so high, that we can’t even take the word of our own spouse, someone who presumably vowed to be trustworthy? If that is indeed the case, why get married in the first place? For love or companionship? You can have those things without being married. For the insurance benefits? The financial security? Let’s rule out fear of dying alone because attempting to murder your spouse kind of negates that one.

I suspect that social pressure contributes greatly to some people’s desire to get married. We – women especially, but also some men – are programmed to believe that we are worthless unless we are in a relationship, and by a certain age, married as well. This programming is deliberate, and can be hard for most people to overcome. It’s no secret that many industries get a financial boost from the existence of marriage, from caterers and bakers to beauty supplies and formal wear, to gifts and engraving, to flowers and travel. It’s hardly an accident that psychotherapy is among them.

I’m certain that insecurity is another reason why someone like Jasmine Teltow might get married rather than simply date somebody. In her mind, a person can tell you he loves you until the proverbial sun comes up, but he can still leave you (or fuck other people) until there’s a ring involved. I suspect that, for some, there’s a feeling of anxiety and fear that stems from having a significant other whom you are certain will eventually leave or cheat. The expectation seems to be that a wedding and everything associated therewith – the ring, the ceremony, the party, and even the money spent – will permanently change whatever it was that caused the anxiety and fear in the first place. This is simply not reality.

And what does it say when stabbing someone – anyone, much less a person with whom you’ve agreed to enter a partnership and raise children – is a legitimate reaction? Is it an indictment of monogamy? Perhaps an admission that this centuries-old social construct is such an unrealistic expectation of humanity that it drives us to injure and be injured by those we supposedly love? I realize that the reaction of most people who’ve heard this story will be along the lines of “Crazy bitch” or “What was he doing with nude photos on his phone?” as opposed to “Maybe we should acknowledge that monogamy is far too demanding a standard to expect people to adhere to blindly.”

In the interest of full disclosure, I must state that we know couples that seem to have no problem with monogamy. Whether this is actually the case I cannot say; perhaps they are truly content never flirting, never thinking of anyone other than their spouse or significant other. Perhaps sex just isn’t that important to them, rendering any distractions unnecessary. Perhaps they are secretly non-monogamous while in public maintaining the required façade of monogamy. Or perhaps they aren’t quite as content with the boundaries of their relationship as they appear to be.

I am reminded of the time a female friend posted a photo on Facebook of a fortune her husband had found in a fortune cookie. I don’t remember the exact wording, but it had something to do with him meeting a new friend. It seemed the typical fortune cookie fortune, vague enough that it could apply to virtually anybody who received it. I almost scanned right past it until I saw my friend’s caption, which was along the lines of “It had better be a male friend!” And while she got some LOLs and supportive comments, I just felt sorry for her.

Why would you post this? I thought at the time. Why air your dirty laundry in public? The implication is that her husband has cheated on her, or perhaps that my friend’s self-esteem is so lacking that she expects him to, or even that she micro-manages his friendships and won’t let him socialize with women. And while shaming people on social media seems par for the course these days, I couldn’t understand why this person would want all her friends knowing that she’s married to a man who cheats on her, or otherwise makes her feel inadequate. If that’s the case, if he’s done something to disappoint her to the extent that she must rub his nose in it on social media, why live with that kind of strife? Why not just get a divorce already?

And speaking of Facebook posts, divorce, and shame, this is something I’ve seen in my feed a couple times, typically posted by a woman my own age or close to it. The poster is typically single. I believe they have self-esteem issues, and they’re generally the sort to buy into the notion that marriage will magically eradicate every insecurity that plagues them. Hey, cartoon senior citizens pictured above: Maybe the high rate of divorce these days has less to do with our modern throwaway culture than it does the intense pro-marriage programming – some might say brainwashing – to which we are all subjected to some extent. Don’t shame somebody who got married impulsively, realized it was a terrible mistake, and got out. Incidentally, one of the people who has posted this is currently trapped in a marriage that neither she nor her spouse seem to want. But I guess it would be pretty damned hypocritical if she got a divorce. At least no one’s gotten stabbed yet.

I’m not suggesting that opening their marriage would help. I realize that monogamy isn’t always the greatest source of tension – sometimes it’s money, or alcohol and drug use, depression, or perhaps just the sudden realization that one cannot be happy in a relationship unless one is happy alone – though I believe that if society as a whole could stop bullshitting and open up a dialogue on the topic of sex, notably the fact that it can and often should exist independent of love, we’d all be much happier. Still, I believe that, for most couples, the expectation of monogamy is so ingrained that even the suggestion of non-monogamy is going to cause problems. We are so selfish a culture that compersion remains a foreign concept.

Back to Jasmine Teltow. Her mother initially refused to turn one of the couple’s two children over to child protective services, though after a two-day manhunt the boy was turned over to local police. Police are unlikely to file charges against Teltow’s mother, but we’ve still got a woman facing life in prison, a man who’s been grievously injured and may conceivably suffer from physical and emotional trauma well into the future, and two children whose lives have been severely impacted. Who could have imagined that a few nude photos could have such drastic consequences?

 

 

 

 

Officially spring will be here (in the northern hemisphere) in a few weeks. I want to rush things along and declare it spring now; especially after the brutal winter we here in the mid-Atlantic states have endured. TMI Tuesday…

Spring the season of love

 

Jack’s Answers

1. Spring vacation, will you take one? Where?
I’m definitely taking a vacation, as Jill has a week off in April and a break from my normal Daddy duties is called for. I don’t know if we’re planning on going anywhere; we’d like to but finances may prevent us from doing so. At this point I wouldn’t mind just staying home the entire week and having Jill assist me in the day-to-day raising of our child, but I also wouldn’t mind actually going someplace.

Spring time love.

2. Do you become friskier as the temperatures outside heat up?
I don’t think so, as I’m pretty frisky to begin with. After all, note the name of our blog. However, higher temperatures are conducive to wearing less clothing than usual, and wearing less clothing than usual is, for Jill and I at least, very conducive to sex. I realize that nudity isn’t necessarily a sexual thing, but you’ve seen my wife. Can you blame me?

3. Do you flirt more in spring vs. other times of the year?
My flirting level remains pretty steady throughout the year. I don’t know that the opportunities for flirting increase in the spring as opposed to, say, during the December holidays, but I am certain that my desire for flirtation is consistent during all twelve months.

4. Do you dress sexier in the spring?
Not really. The truth is, I rarely dress all that sexy any time of year, and when I do it’s generally because we’ve got a formal event such as a wedding, and I get decked out in a suit. In the spring, or at least when the weather is warmer, I generally focus on comfort over other considerations; therefore it’s not uncommon to find me wearing shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt. Whatever I wear, it’s not the garments that are sexy. It’s the guy who’s wearing them.

5. What day of the week do you have sex most often?
Definitely the weekend. On Saturdays and Sundays Jill and I are better able to make time for sex, because we’re both typically home, and we make a point to get our daughter to sleep early (with varying degrees of success). Additionally, we sometimes manage to sneak off to the bedroom while she’s occupied elsewhere, pushing our one-day average (on weekends) to twice. I miss the days when Jill would get home on a weekday and our daughter would be napping, allowing us one round in the early evening and another round late at night after she’d fallen asleep.

 

6. Do you use kissing as an important way to test out a new mate? Good kissers, keep and move forward to another stage in a budding relationship. Bad kissers, get pruned and dumped.
Not really. I might pre-judge a potential bedmate by how she kisses, but even if she’s not much of a kisser I will still typically take her to bed. I won’t necessarily encourage thoughts of making it an ongoing thing, as I do value kissing and appreciate a good kisser, but subpar kissing isn’t going to make me slam on the brakes before I’ve gotten her naked.

7. What do you expect from marriage?
a. safety and solidarity and security
b. a journey towards self-fulfillment and self-actualization with a partner that ‘gets’ you.
Both. The right relationship is ideally a mix of (a) and (b), and it’s not the easiest thing in the world to find. Anything short of that is compromising, as far as I’m concerned.

8. Acts of love & kindness. Which would mean more to you:
a. Taking your partner a cup of tea in bed (or receiving that cup of tea)
b. Giving or receiving a box of chocolates or flowers
I’m not much of a tea-drinker, and I don’t require flowers to feel confident in my relationship. A box of chocolates, maybe, but even that doesn’t exactly float my boat. I’d go the obvious route and say that if you want to demonstrate your love for me or give me a gesture of kindness a blowjob is always nice, but if I’m going to answer sincerely, I might go with (b). While I do enjoy store-bought chocolates, the ones my wife makes are so much better, and in fact the other night when I mentioned a craving I was having for one particular variety, she made them right away. That’s love right there.

Bonus: In your late teens or early 20s did you take wild spring break vacations with friends? What is the wildest, craziest, sexiest thing you did on a “gone wild” spring break?
In my early twenties I regularly took road trips with friends over Spring Break. They were indeed the stuff of legend, or at least as much the stuff of legend as anything I’ve ever done. While we’d often meander through Southern California or Las Vegas, we’d sometimes end up in Lake Havasu, which is – or at least was – a popular destination for college students on Spring Break. In addition to the usual Spring Break antics – bogarting our way onto some guy’s houseboat, drinking until we puked, and making out with bikini chicks, among the wildest things that transpired on those trips were a late-night drive from Vegas to the Grand Canyon when we decided we couldn’t afford a hotel for the night, an hour’s drive in the wrong direction because the driver (not me!) misread our printed Yahoo! Maps directions, and a very exciting night wherein I stole a car, shot a bouncer, and had sex with two women.

Falling in love takes one-fifth of a second
It takes a fifth-of-a-second for the euphoria-inducing chemicals to start acting on the brain when you are looking at that special someone. –Source

Jill’s Answers

1. Spring vacation, will you take one? Where?
Do I have to foot the bill myself? If money is no option, I’d love to take a spring vacation to Europe. I don’t think we will, of course, but spending a few days anyplace away from our house is fine with me. Jack and I are still hammering out the details, but we are hoping to take a trip when I’m on vacation next month. A change of scenery would be appreciated.

Spring time love.

2. Do you become friskier as the temperatures outside heat up?
Yes. Warmer temperatures make me want to take off my clothes. Besides, if I’m getting sweaty, I might as well be fucking.

3. Do you flirt more in spring vs. other times of the year?
I think I do. The warm sunshine makes me feel happy, and that plus the fact that I’m not bundled up in multiple layers gives me confidence.

4. Do you dress sexier in the spring?
Again, I wear less layers of clothing in springtime, so yes. What I do wear tends to be revealing compared to what I’m wearing in fall and winter. I favor tank tops, or other tops that show off my cleavage, plus shorts or skirts. Generally speaking, I show more skin in spring.

5. What day of the week do you have sex most often?
Saturdays and Sundays. We have more time on the weekends because Jack and I are both home. We also have more energy, because in theory we can sleep in on Saturday and Sunday mornings. And even if our daughter wakes up early I can make her breakfast and put her in front of the TV, then go back to bed and ride my husband.

6. Do you use kissing as an important way to test out a new mate? Good kissers, keep and move forward to another stage in a budding relationship. Bad kissers, get pruned and dumped.
Not necessarily. Just because someone isn’t very good at kissing doesn’t mean they won’t be good at other things. I feel like I should give them a chance. They might not know how to kiss, but they might be able to finger me for days, or they have great stamina or something. I like a guy (or a woman) who can kiss, and I especially like it when he or she can kiss in addition to doing other things in the sexual realm, but it doesn’t necessarily kill it for me if they can’t.

7. What do you expect from marriage?
a. safety and solidarity and security
b. a journey towards self-fulfillment and self-actualization with a partner that ‘gets’ you.
I expect a combination of both. I want the comfort described in (a), as well as the fun and excitement of (b). I like to think that I’ve found it!

8. Acts of love & kindness. Which would mean more to you:
a. Taking your partner a cup of tea in bed (or receiving that cup of tea)
b. Giving or receiving a box of chocolates or flowers
I like the sound of (a) better than (b), but I’d rather have coffee or hot chocolate. Actually just letting me stay in bed would probably be the ultimate act of love and kindness. I don’t get to just lie in bed enough these days.

Bonus: In your late teens or early 20s did you take wild spring break vacations with friends? What is the wildest, craziest, sexiest thing you did on a “gone wild” spring break?
One year I called in sick for four days and went to Mexico with my roommate. We had a great time on the beach, soaked up some sun, flirted, and made out with cute guys.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!