Sunday- Another Sunday with the Diplomat

Every person has his or her quirks. Things they really like, things they really don't. One of the things I really don't like is taking my car in for an oil change. There is no rational reason for it, I just can't stand taking the time to bring it in, waiting for it to be done, having them try to upsell me, all that jazz. When the Diplomat suggested working my very overdue oil change into our date Sunday, I jumped at the opportunity. I dropped off my car, then we headed up to Ikea to pick up some things for his new house.

It was a new experience to go shopping with someone who has almost total impulse control. Not being an impulse buyer is one thing, but he took it to a new level. Not only did he not buy anything because it looked cool, he didn't buy anything that wasn't on his list, even if it had a useful purpose. I wish I had that much willpower- it'd save me some money. We left right as I got the call my car was ready to be picked up. We went and got it, then headed back to his house for dinner.

For dinner, the Diplomat had made chili. Now, I love chili. It's delicious and filling. But the fact that he'd made chili shows a fundamental difference between guys and girls- guys don't think about how the food they eat on the date is going to affect them after. Beer and wings? Big greasy cheeseburger? No problem. For me (and I think most girls) on the other hand, the food I eat is directly affected by what's going to be happening later in the night. If we're just going out for dinner, I can handle a burger- the date's usually over by the time my stomach decides it hates me. With chili, though, and especially chili on what was likely to turn into an overnight date, there was no escaping it. I was going to have a stomachache later.

After we finished and were still sitting on the couch, we started making out. What is it about sitting on the couch on a date that turns almost immediately into making out? The condoms were upstairs, though, and neither of us felt like going to get them, so I knelt in front of the couch instead, if you catch my drift.

The Diplomat is quickly turning into The One Who Cooks (tm). For dessert, he'd made a butterscotch mousse. I thought the chocolate mousse was good, but this was out of this world. As I ate, he wrapped me up and started rubbing my shoulders. I love a good massage. Then that turned into him whispering in my ear.

“I want you to go upstairs, take off all your clothes, and kneel on the floor. You're going to close your eyes, put your hands behind your head, and wait for me. Do you understand?”

I absolutely did. It was even hotter this time than the last.

The entire point of going out on Sunday was to watch the first episode of the show Treme. As a thunderstorm started outside, we got glasses of red wine and cuddled back together in the bed. We laid there together while we watched. When it came to an end, with a glass of wine in me and the rain falling outside, I was ready to fall asleep.

The Diplomat went downstairs to lock the doors and turn out the lights, when the next thing I do, he was rushing up the stairs and throwing on clothes. “I'm having my first homeowner crisis,” he told me. “My basement is flooding.”

I felt terrible, but there was nothing I could do. He found the clogged drain in the backyard that was backing up into the basement, which stopped it from getting worse. Still, there was at least an inch of water in the majority of the basement. I helped him carry a few things upstairs that hadn't yet gotten wet, while he tried to figure out what to do next. Finally he came to the decision there was nothing that could be done until the morning, and we went up to bed.

The good news is after a quick romp in the morning, he was able to get what he needed at Home Depot. Getting to see first-hand the joys of homeownership definitely hasn't left me in a hurry to get there myself. Give me a 24-hour maintenance man any day.

Sunday- I'm on a Boat

(Yes, I realize how entirely un-original the title of this post is. I'd apologize, but I don't care! I still think it's funny.)

Apparently one of the Diplomat's favorite activities is to go sailing. He doesn't have his own boat; instead, he belongs to an organization that allows their members to take out the group's boats almost whenever they want. We'd planned to go on Easter, but the weather had been less than cooperative.

It was just the two of us on the boat. Because of that he made me do a lot of the steering- I was beyond nervous! In fact, I freaked out every time the boat leaned far over to one side. He kept assuring me that it was actually impossible for this type of boat to capsize, but that didn't help much. Finally I just told myself that I would fall out before the boat fell over, and for some twisted reason, that calmed me down a bit.

We were on the water for almost two hours when we decided to head in and go back to his house for dinner. He cooked again; his shrimp was good, but his apple, cheese, and walnut salad was superb. He offered desert, but we decided to have a few after-dinner activities first.

We headed upstairs to his bedroom, and while we were standing in the middle of the room kissing he whispered in my ear, “go stand next to the wall with your eyes closed.” I giggled and eagerly complied. He stood behind me and asked, “are you going to do everything I say?” There was no question about that. I stood next to the wall and heard him opening a drawer. The next thing I knew, a blindfold was being slipped across my eyes. Then he turned me around and started kissing me more.

I know I've mentioned it before, but I love giving up control in the bedroom. There is no more extreme way of doing that than allowing yourself to be blindfolded and cuffed, which was what happened next.

The biggest surprise came after we made it back onto the bed. He had a restraint system set up, what I guess to be similar to this one (after all, I was blindfolded. Link really NSFW, by the way.) He had my arms and my legs spread with the cuffs while he continued to tease me. To put it bluntly, it was hot. I was begging for release, and I don't mean from the restraints. Finally I got it.

After we'd laid in bed for a while, the Diplomat reminded me that he had desert. I had mentioned to him once in passing that my favorite desert of all time is fresh berries with homemade whipped cream. He'd actually remembered what I'd said and decided to make it for me!

It was delicious. By the time we were done, though, we were both tired and ready for bed. He'd had enough downtime, though, that he was ready to go again.

This time, I asked him to take it slow. We untangled at the end and fell asleep.

The next morning the Diplomat had to go to work. That didn't stop us from having one last romp in the bed before getting up. It's so hard to get out of bed in the morning when you're with someone you like. Thankfully he doesn't have to be at work at a certain time, or he would have been late.

Sailing, dinner, desert; bondage, repeat performances, and morning sex? It doesn't get much better.

Friday- Stripper Heels

Friday night the Dreamer came over for dinner. After our conversation on Wednesday when he told me that pizza was the healthiest thing he'd eaten all week, I'd offered up a standing invitation to come over whenever I make dinner. He'd originally had a date planned with another girl for Friday night, but when that fell through I got a text from him, “When's dinner?”

I love to cook. I love all different kinds of foods, especially those with “exotic” spices, so I am constantly experimenting with new recipes. This time it was a peanut sauce for stir fry over noodles. Both the Dreamer and I are peanut butter fiends, so it was the perfect choice. Unfortunately for the Dreamer, though, I cook mostly vegetarian, so my response to “when's dinner?” was “how do you feel about tofu?” Unsurprisingly, he wasn't enthused about that idea. To compromise, I made tofu for mine and gave him a chicken breast to cook for his. Relationships are all about give and take, you know!

After dinner we started watching a movie, but abandoned it about halfway through in favor of going up to my bedroom. While making out, he asked what kinds of toys I had to play with.

Music to my ears.

I'd recently invested in some stripper clothes and 6-inch heels. Now, I don't know any man who would object to his girlfriend, or any woman really, putting on stripper clothes and dancing for him. Amirite? They're not really a toy, per se, but still something fun to spice things up. So I got dressed up, wiggled around a bit, and practically purred when he looked me in the eye and said “I'm going to take you.”

Sex is hotter in stripper heels.

While we were cuddling afterwards, we started talking. I've been telling him recently how much I like him (spoiler: it's a LOT), but he hasn't really been saying that same. Being a woman, that makes me nervous. Being a rational woman, I asked him about it instead of jumping to conclusions.

“Of course I like you,” he said. “If I didn't, I wouldn't be with you.”

Good point. I'm learning that the Dreamer is just not comfortable verbalizing his feelings. Instead of hearing him say things like “I like you,” I feel it, like when he pulls me close while spooning. I'm still getting used to it, but I think it's important to remind myself that I don't have to hear him say the words for him to “really” mean it. I've encountered that problem with boyfriends in the past- it wasn't enough for them to show me, I had to hear them say it. Of course I'm not going to let him off the hook of ever saying it, but it doesn't have to be as constant as my emotions tell me it should be.

We also had another discussion about polyamory that night. I'm pretty open in talking to him about the guys I'm dating and the things we do, but I wanted to make sure that's okay with him. He said he doesn't mind hearing about it. Next I asked him if he was still okay with me dating other people.

“Yeah. I mean, as long as I'm your main one, you know.”

“You are. You're my 'primary,' my main squeeze. That's why I asked you to be my boyfriend. It doesn't mean I like you more or better than the other guys I'm dating, just that I like you different. I can imagine a future with you; it's more than just dating for 'fun'.”

“Mmm. I like that,” he told me.

It was a good way to end the night.

Monday- My Turn to Buy Dinner

Last week, I finally got a paycheck that I had been waiting on for far too long. It was to the point of eating those random things left in the fridge and pantry rather than going to the grocery store. As you can probably guess, that meant I didn't have a lot of money to be spending on dates.

When I'm dating someone who has a steady job, it's always nice of them to offer to pay, and I almost always accept. Every once in a while, though, I feel the need to flex my feminist muscle and do the paying myself. So yesterday, when my check cleared and I had a comfortable cushion in my bank account again, the first thing I did was call up the Dreamer and ask him out to dinner.

We went out to dinner at a casual bar/restaurant just down the street from me. People keep recommending it to me when they find out where I live, so I had pretty high expectations. The food was good, the beer was great, but the service...well, it was rather lackluster. It was my first chance to see how the Dreamer reacted to a bad waiter- some people get really rude and catty about it, others are pushovers. He's right in between; he made a comment that he was glad I was in charge of tipping, reminded the waiter about my drink that I was waiting for, and that was all.

We were at a table in the corner, which made it easier for us to talk. As easy as it can be in a bar restaurant, at least. In other words, we were able to hear each other without shouting. That was good, since I'm sure if people heard our conversation, they'd be really confused. The Dreamer had something important to tell me, and he was really nervous about it.

His news? That he has a date with another girl this week. His nervousness was palpable; fidgeting, not looking me in the eye. It was clear he was unsure how I'd react.

I think my response really surprised him. I said, “great!”

“Really?”

“Of course! Why would that bother me?”

“Well, this is just not at all what I'm used to.”

Of course, that's perfectly understandable. Our society teaches us to be jealous and reproachful of others as they interact with our significant others. To me, though, my boyfriend dating another person doesn't mean he likes me any less. I date other people, but I don't like him any less. My only request was that he let me know if he's dating someone, but he's welcome to give me as much or as little detail beyond that as he is comfortable with.

We also discussed PDA. I'm a big fan of mild PDA- hugging, kissing, handholding; not so much making out and grinding on each other. As such, I'm a very touchy-feely person. If I'm talking to you, chances are I'll reach out and touch your arm. If I'm dating you, I'll almost certainly kiss your cheek or take your hand fairly often. The Dreamer, as he explained, is used to women doing that as a way to mark their territory. I'd never thought of it that way, but it makes sense- it's a nonverbal way of saying “back off ladies, he's mine.” That isn't at all my intent, though. I just do it because I like the person I'm with.

We also had a talk about sex toys. I LOVE toys. Not every time, of course, but I think they're a lot of fun. Too many guys are intimidated by the idea of women using a toy in bed; they internalize it as a critique on their sexual ability. That isn't the case, though! When used by partners, they're a great way to enhance the experience for both people. I think the key is to talk about them openly, and find something that both people are comfortable with and enjoy. By getting rid of the taboo and addressing any fears of inadequacy, I think a lot more guys would be open to them.

So, last night was fun. I slept hard, though- I didn't even wake up when the Dreamer got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. That tells me that I'm getting comfortable sleeping with him, which is a really good feeling. Of course it sucked when I had to get up at 5 this morning to get some work done before class while he slept in for another hour. He's so cute when he's sleeping, though, I can't complain too much.

I'm going to the west coast this weekend to present at a conference, so it's going to be a sparse weekend for dating.