when can i ever write about my sex life again?
i am questioning whether or not i should have a public site again or just stay on LJ "friends only" style.
i realize i used to post all3all about my sexual exploits and seeing as i've been a married old hag for the past year, it is a little difficult to find juicy tidbits of gossip to share. i'm not really interested in discussing the intimate details of my relationship here.
woah. news flash. roommate #1 just texted me that the sex party / cruisin' thing on the pier in greenpoint got shut down (hilarious) and roommate #2 had her fuckin' wallet stolen at a show just now -- ON HER BIRTHDAY. what gives?!
back to my story, though. this may seem comical to most civilians, particularly those fond of sex and the city, but recently i've stumbled across several of my lovers while with my current beau. he always asks who's that or how do i know them and i proceed to quite honestly explain, quite matter of factly, the context in which i came to fuck them. this is a common occurrence, perhaps most common that i expected.
i live in a city of eight million and i've slept with under 100 people. statistically, the odds are in my favor. so what gives?
in the past week, j. and i ran into my former lover s. while in a coffee shop. granted, we both lived in prospect heights and frequented the bakery but what a fluke. i explained we met at a fetish party. me, dressed head to toe in latex, corsetry, 4" heels and a smattering of matte red lipstick. her, in all her soft butch glory, perfect katherine moening cheekbones, cropped tight curls, and bewildered look. she looked deliciously out of place and i took full advantage of it. we didn't go home together that night, but we certainly did after that. she was chivalrous, albeit an alcoholic so despite the fact she would insist on paying for things when we went out, she was too drunk to do it and i would get the bill. s. disappeared after a few weeks and i had only run into her once before this recent encounter since we were sleeping together.
and then there was last night. out for a date with my guy, enjoying downtown west side to east side, and stopping for something to satiate my sweet tooth on the lower east side. j. went to use the loo and i suddenly hear my name being called. then my last name, then the school i went to. so of course, i turned and i see this african-american guy who looks entirely unfamiliar to me. my heart sort of stops. i don't like when people know who i am, but i don't know who they are. i look at him quizzically.
"sorry, do i know you?" i asked. he said that he had something that might jog my memory. he handed me his ID. he looked similar to the man standing before me with locks to his shoulder. i glanced at the name. nicholas. nicholas? who the fuck is nicholas? my mind raced to place the name, the photo, the man standing before me before things got completely awkward. and then it hit me. nicholas. NICK.
oh right. i had an unfortunate one night stand with this fellow maybe my third year of college. he ended up sleeping on the couch of our common space and i locked the door behind him. no sense in letting him return for seconds.
we made small talk in the cake line while i picked out my vegan desert. he's been in the city four months, DC since he has graduated, and thinks he looks different now. i smiled, playing off my utter loss for recognizing him on his new hair style. the truth is he wasn't a particularly good lay, certainly not memorable amongst those i've bedded.
i paid for my slice and said i had to head back to my boyfriend. we hugged, awkwardly and brief, and then he went back to the bar next door. he had recognized me from the street!
i am lucky to have a fabulous fag boyfriend who can cooly see through my sexual exploits to the real, nerdy, loveable me.
i realize i used to post all3all about my sexual exploits and seeing as i've been a married old hag for the past year, it is a little difficult to find juicy tidbits of gossip to share. i'm not really interested in discussing the intimate details of my relationship here.
woah. news flash. roommate #1 just texted me that the sex party / cruisin' thing on the pier in greenpoint got shut down (hilarious) and roommate #2 had her fuckin' wallet stolen at a show just now -- ON HER BIRTHDAY. what gives?!
back to my story, though. this may seem comical to most civilians, particularly those fond of sex and the city, but recently i've stumbled across several of my lovers while with my current beau. he always asks who's that or how do i know them and i proceed to quite honestly explain, quite matter of factly, the context in which i came to fuck them. this is a common occurrence, perhaps most common that i expected.
i live in a city of eight million and i've slept with under 100 people. statistically, the odds are in my favor. so what gives?
in the past week, j. and i ran into my former lover s. while in a coffee shop. granted, we both lived in prospect heights and frequented the bakery but what a fluke. i explained we met at a fetish party. me, dressed head to toe in latex, corsetry, 4" heels and a smattering of matte red lipstick. her, in all her soft butch glory, perfect katherine moening cheekbones, cropped tight curls, and bewildered look. she looked deliciously out of place and i took full advantage of it. we didn't go home together that night, but we certainly did after that. she was chivalrous, albeit an alcoholic so despite the fact she would insist on paying for things when we went out, she was too drunk to do it and i would get the bill. s. disappeared after a few weeks and i had only run into her once before this recent encounter since we were sleeping together.
and then there was last night. out for a date with my guy, enjoying downtown west side to east side, and stopping for something to satiate my sweet tooth on the lower east side. j. went to use the loo and i suddenly hear my name being called. then my last name, then the school i went to. so of course, i turned and i see this african-american guy who looks entirely unfamiliar to me. my heart sort of stops. i don't like when people know who i am, but i don't know who they are. i look at him quizzically.
"sorry, do i know you?" i asked. he said that he had something that might jog my memory. he handed me his ID. he looked similar to the man standing before me with locks to his shoulder. i glanced at the name. nicholas. nicholas? who the fuck is nicholas? my mind raced to place the name, the photo, the man standing before me before things got completely awkward. and then it hit me. nicholas. NICK.
oh right. i had an unfortunate one night stand with this fellow maybe my third year of college. he ended up sleeping on the couch of our common space and i locked the door behind him. no sense in letting him return for seconds.
we made small talk in the cake line while i picked out my vegan desert. he's been in the city four months, DC since he has graduated, and thinks he looks different now. i smiled, playing off my utter loss for recognizing him on his new hair style. the truth is he wasn't a particularly good lay, certainly not memorable amongst those i've bedded.
i paid for my slice and said i had to head back to my boyfriend. we hugged, awkwardly and brief, and then he went back to the bar next door. he had recognized me from the street!
i am lucky to have a fabulous fag boyfriend who can cooly see through my sexual exploits to the real, nerdy, loveable me.