Thursday, November 11, 2010

A little give and take

We had a plan.  It was a good one.  We wanted to meet in a hotel room for our first threesome.  My man was even being super sweet about it.

man: It's your first time.  I want it to be special.  Let's look for a really nice room.  It'll be worth it to pay a little more.

If you only knew how frugal he was, you could truly appreciate how hard he was trying to make this a positive experience and reward me for my generosity.  He commented on that, too.

man: You are giving a lot to this relationship.  Don't think I don't see that.

It was nice that he did see that.

So, I sent our third the message about our plan. 

And she balked. 

She felt like we were trying to turn her into an escort by saying we wanted to meet in a hotel.  I thought it was reasonable that we not really want to invite a stranger into our home.  I knew that he had a way of attracting crazy chicks who would randomly pop up and now and again, simply walking into our house.  Pretty nervy, huh?

We talked.  I told him how I felt.  We both wanted this to happen, but how much were we willing to give.  This was supposed to be a situation where we would hook up and head home.  I planned on being the designated driver to ensure that.  Suddenly, this was getting infinitely more complicated.

man: What did you expect?  This isn't a simple thing.

Why not?  We had already agreed to the stuff that should have been the challenge.  We had already figured out the sex itself.  We had already found someone that shared  mutual attraction.  How could the location become such a sticking point?

Only it was.  And then it grew worse.  She wanted to stay over rather than drink and drive.  Seriously.

me: How many of our rules do we break?  Next, she'll want you to be in her.  I swear.  I'm about ready to walk.

He was frustrated.  Who could blame him? 

Then we calmed down.  There's a reason that I do all the contact work.  Okay, there's lots of reasons.  The main one, however, is that words are my friends.  Thus I used all my best diplomatic tact to press on and resolve our issues.

We would meet at our house.  She could sleep on the couch.  The dirty would take place in the great room or study.  And all was right with the world once more.

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