I was a few wines in, when a beloved, raunchy rock anthem blasted from the speakers. “I like your pants around your feet, I like the dirt that’s on your knees, I like the way that you…” My genius boyfriend was going to be back in town for the weekend, and these filthy lyrics made me instantly intent on changing up our sessions to anything but vanilla. You know, not the usual way of making love: missionary position on a fluffy bed with perfect pillows, gazing into each other’s eyes.
Mark had always been a tad conservative. When we first started dating he would always wait for me to make the moves to home base, patient and careful for full consent and never pushing the boundaries of appropriateness. Yet now, after over a year of sleeping together, why couldn’t he just take me in the kitchen, the shower, or the woods? He always hugged me from behind, sweetly, while I was cooking – but all I could dream about was lusty adventures and bad-boy sex. He wasn’t timid in life. How could I get him to be that same assertive beast with my body?
This weekend I wanted it to be a little dangerous, a little unexpected. Except of course for the happy ending that Mark would always assure. Do musicians and thrilling lovers guarantee that? Hmmm. Why did I have to make life so complicated for us? Why do I still fantasize about raunchy guys who won’t love me or I need to fix? Yes, I have had first or second encounters where a romantic young geek or classy silver fox makes my head and tail spin. But for the most part I still fantasize about rowdy bad-boy sex like in the movies, erotica or romance novels: tattooed musicians, long-haired surfers, Wall Street cheaters or men in uniform.
Secret and sexy rendezvous always started with a plot. Even in my buzzed state, maybe because of it, I started to dream up a master plan. Mark was due to arrive around 8 on Friday, so I started my flirting and teasing texts early, while he would just be landing.
“You on the ground yet handsome?” I typed.
“ :) Yup, having a beer with Danny. And you?” He replied.
“Dreaming about my mouth on your … : p”
“Whoa. *placing jacket over lap. Careful or I will come early.”
“Please do,” I taunted. “Oh actually, save it for when you enter…”
I could almost see Mark’s face flush on the other end of the line, in front of his guy pal. He was not used to me being devilish, or worshipping him so vocally. With the outfit and scenario I had planned, maybe he could even return the bold flirtation?
“:) So when?” He texted. Mark most likely couldn’t form any other words.
“I slipped the key under the door mat. And there’s a note on the counter. 8 sharp… it will be fun : )” I added.
“ok :)” Mark wrote. I knew he would be half hard for the next few hours and was loving it.
I left a few shots of vodka on the counter for Mark. I knew my man and he would definitely need some liquid courage to do some of the things outlined. The suspense of how he would react and act with me, dressed in a sexy outfit in a dark room, was a total turn on for me.
I had just finished prepping when I heard the front door open, someone enter and take their shoes off. The note said not to speak and he was following along well. My heart raced when I heard his first steps down the creaky hallway. The instructions were to not kiss me and to leave me face down, but I couldn’t help turning my head a tiny bit to take a peek at him arriving. Obviously neither of us needed the outfit as Mark was sporting a tummy-touching boner already at the doorway. With both of us hot and bothered, things proceeded rapidly. We weren’t out in the country, so I wouldn’t necessarily be getting my knees dirty, but we played out that song plus a few others I had compiled, to the tee. The night was full of naughtiness, working ourselves into a super charged frenzy of new delights.
The next morning, Mark was first to declare the erotic evening a success. Relationship guru Esther Perel warns, ”Fusion connects us… but desire needs mystery.” The wonderful bond we had fused through making love had all but negated the electrical connection and spark I so desired.
But now what, after this mysterious rendezvous? Well, we are still gossiping and grinning about that wild evening. Will we be able to keep our next encounter as unfused and unexpected? Fascination. Keepin’ it real, even after 100 times. For me, it’s got to be mysterious and electric. Desire and arousal fueled by fantasy and eroticism. Mmmm.