Entry Two: In Love and Completely Full of It

“I don’t want to know about it,” he said. “And I am never reading it. I don’t want my sex life to be public. I barely want it to be private,” he said to me while we lay in bed, my head on his shoulder. I was in nothing but my pink robe as promised and he, in the green Bethany Beach shirt I brought back for him three summers ago and a pair of khaki shorts. “Fine,” I said, “as far as you are concerned, the blog doesn’t exist.”

I was well prepared for his three o’clock arrival. I showered with the last of my Ralph Lauren Romance wash and I ever coated my freshly shaved legs with conditioner so soften them up. I pulled my hair back into a loose bum and let my brown curls spill out. He walked in to my room as I sat at my desk, work shopping a manuscript with my brown rimmed glasses on. He walked up behind me and trusted his right hand under my nose. “Smells like hockey, huh?” he asked. And it did. His hand smelled just like the sweat that collects in his pads, sweet and musty. So much for Dr. Dia’s instant foreplay idea.

Mark walked over to my bed, where my yellow comforter was neatly folded, and curled into a ball. “Aren’t you going to come here?” he asked, and I did. I sat there and looked deeply into his brown eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing, never mind,” I said, bagging that task. But he smiled at me anyway and somehow before I could stop it we were back into that spooning position with him humping my backside. He pinched my bum, “Oh, you’re naked,” he said with a seductive laugh. Success, my surprise caught his attention. He began kissing my neck which I couldn’t help but think that was better than no foreplay at all. And I remembered my final task, to find his pulse south of the equator. I mounted him, pushing his legs forward. “Ouch! Fuck!” he screamed as I cracked his ankle against the footboard of the bed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” I kept saying as I unbuttoned his pants. He started to untie my robe.

“Jesus, why did you have to tie a knot? It’s like breaking into Ft. Knox just to get you naked,” he said and I apologized again as I put his dick into my mouth. That lasted about twenty five seconds before he said, “Can we just have sex?”

So we did. And it was very loving, as always. We kissed and squeezed and I felt as though my heart was beating into from my chest and into his. And it was wonderful, because it always is. But we were still just in the missionary. We finished and I laid my head on his chest, his heart pounding. I thought about how much I love him, how I could live like this forever. And yet, can I? Just because he is in school to be an electrical engineer doesn’t calculate my fire pit, the passion that is always spilling out of my mouth.

“I love you,” he said with a deep sigh.

“I love you,” and I meant it more than I could even fathom. He held me and later we got his oil changed, went to the market, made dinner. I lay here alone now, thinking about our future. We’re young but I’m so comfortable, so happy. It makes me reconsider my goal to spice up our sex life. If I am so in love, what does wild sex matter? What does anything matter beyond the moment, the moment when I know that I am happy? Happy and full of him in so many ways.

Entry One: No More Preemptive Spilling of Secretions

Dr. Diana Wiley promises that by applying her sex tips to any relationship, there will be a higher quality of sex more frequently. Now, I don’t particularly want to turn my healthy relationship into a test of Dr. Diana’s, or any doctor’s for that matter, word, but I’m sure my twenty-two year old boyfriend wouldn’t mind the increased action and I could use a topic for a blog. I found Dr. Diana in the selective scroll bar of Google, so I can’t claim her credibility as anything Biblical, but onward, for I am in search of anything other than the missionary and await the knowledge of what actually makes your eyes go into the back of your head.

1. Women need emotional foreplay.

Apparently, men are like a switch. They can turn on out of nowhere. Like, the football game can end and then they catch a look of your cleavage (or maybe one of the skanky cheerleaders’ on the sidelines) and he’s ready, guns blazing, to bone your brains out. Mark and I aren’t like that. I mean, to conceptualize the situation, if it were a Steelers’ game there wouldn’t be any cheerleaders, I’d probably be wearing a sweatshirt, and have gone through at least eight beers, ruining any potential for an impending erection. Currently, how do I usually turn Mark on? Well, it’s usually when we are lying in bed, spooning, and I rub my ass into the direction of his junk, hoping it will chase off his case of the flaccid. Either that or we wake up on a Saturday, hung-over, and he pleasures me with his morning wood while I clench my jaw in an attempt not to spew the remains of beer foam in his face.

Dr. Dia, as I have thus labeled this random advice-giver, says that women have “overall experiences,” meaning that sex is more than just the plunge but rather the series of events leading up to it and the hazy moments which follow. So she gives lists some moves which supposedly transition from the regular day into the pleasure pit. Here are the suggestions which I plan to experiment with when Mark comes over after his pick up hockey game.

• Surprise him with something he never expected: I plan conveniently to just be getting out of the shower when he walks in. My Pink Victoria’s Secret bathrobe barely covers my ass, and this way my legs will be cleanly shaved. I can shave my legs and within an hour have prickles sprouting all about (perhaps limiting hair growth in women could be my next blog?). Anyway, I’ll already be naked so that should throw him off.
• Hug unexpectedly and look into his eyes: Although this will likely foil and make him feel as though I am deranged, it’s worth a shot.
• Kiss near his pulse: Well, perhaps I am jumping the gun, but I’m going to kiss a particular pulse that is typically hidden by a pair of jeans. I rarely do this, so it’s worth a shot. This too, could be thrown back into my fact (and I’m really hoping that this is not going to be a literal issue), but maybe it will entice him to return the favor? Plus, Dr. Dia says that by starting with this, a prolonged pleasure could occur.

This is only the first of three pieces of advice from one expert. I plan to explore many. Will these secrets to sexual success work for a boring pair work? Or will we just keep knocking our glasses around, spilling bodily secretions preemptively? I guess I’ll find out. And then report back.