Love Screws Lust
I should have at least a three-part erotica for you about our evening with Paul last Saturday. But, it didn’t happen quite as I envisioned. I debated all this week about revealing everything, dismissing the thread altogether, or creating my own sultry version of what happened.
Ultimately, I will not reveal all because no matter how badly it went, I love Paul. I love his spirit, creativity and vulnerability juxtaposed with strength. I cannot dismiss the thread altogether, because it is a part of my collective experience with J. It will certainly fold itself into and help define future experiences. And, to distort that reality in a creative tale to you, only exemplifies the role that technology played in the demise of our encounter in the first place.
Looking back now, what led to the disappointment is that Paul and I had spoken so much via email and IM about each other and the anticipated experience that we scripted much of our hopes, fears and love before we even saw each other. We built a connection that revolved solely around our ability to write, connect and relate to one another in text.
Does that translate into raw sexual tension? Well for me, it does help to be mentally connected to my partner. But, when the mental connection reaches a point that it’s almost awkward for the body to catch up—about which a dear friend recently quoted, “Houston, we have a problem…�?–then the mental connection ceases to be valuable.
My relationship with Paul began eight months ago and only included physically seeing each other on four occasions in that amount of time.
- On the first, we were with our respective partners and it didn’t go well. The chemistry between the four of us just didn’t work. There was no predicting it. It just didn’t happen.
- The second occasion was just the two of us, though my commitment to J clouded any real chance of intimacy then. My love for J trumped any connection that Paul and I could make that night together.
- Next was a platonic lunch where we just hoped it wouldn’t end the way the other two rendezvous had. We tried to play the part of nervous friends, not ex-lovers or unrequited loves.
- And, the fourth I has spent the evening lusting after him from across the room, no real time or interaction between the two of us. In truth, I was lusting after his creative energy, as was every other woman in the room.
And then, Saturday…
I was excited to welcome Paul into our home. It is distinctly warm and inviting. It’s filled with rich, warm colors and textiles and years of memories both of J and I and our children. It’s a beautiful setting—to welcome friends and family. But to welcome a sexual partner, a love, a man with whom I’d built a relationship (mostly via the Internet) that largely excluded everything that I was now welcoming him into—well, it’s not a good setting for that.
In the beginning, we all sat and talked. There was ease to our sharing that seemed effortless on everyone’s part. I couldn’t have been more pleased with the way J and Paul were getting on. I owe it to J. I looked at him all night with a lust I hadn’t felt in the longest time. He was powerful and subtly postured in a very reptilian way, but still very respectful of Paul, sensual and approachable by both of us.
We laughed, shared and eventually felt comfortable enough to move to the bedroom. We’d hoped that a transition from conversation to sex was possible. I’d certainly laid the groundwork for it with all of my earlier preparations. But, the transition never occurred the way any of us wished. It was emotional, awkward and disappointing for all.
I cannot speak for Paul’s emotions. I will not try. I’m not even sure that I’m articulating my own well.
We’ve invited people into our home before. We have friends that have shared time with us in and out of bed and having them over works beautifully. The only variable that is distinct in our encounter with Paul is a very emotionally rich love. It was overwhelming. It crippled the lust. Our bodies knew not how to interact with each other, having primarily dealt in a very limited medium.
Will we play with another that one or both of us loves? I don’t know…
At a certain point, we most certainly will stop all of the fucking chatter and just fuck. There is a natural progression of intimacy that shouldn’t be ignored, no matter how easy it is to keep wiling away the day in conversation.
Give the sex a fighting chance—jump in.
group sex, threesome, MMF, sex, lust, love, online romance, swinging, polyamory
January 15th, 2007 at 7:46 am
Lola — This was a wonderful, honest piece about something that rarely is considered — the idea of too many expectations built by the easy media of communication that we find ourselves having access to these days. It’s easy to believe that true intimacy, even love, has been created, in advance of actually finding out how the connection can translate to physical reality.
A cautionary tale? There must be some middle ground — I still want to believe that time spent connecting mentally and emotionally before meeting can be valuable. I also agree, however, that putting off the physical component can mean disappointment all round.
January 15th, 2007 at 9:06 am
I agree with LFM that you handled an awkward tale with grace and sensitivity, honoring your love for Paul. He’s really a lucky man, though the hero of the tale appears to be J. Watch out, dear Lola, another woman may come along and steal such a “catch.”
I detect a growing caution with the place of the L-word in your lives, and can certainly understand. The emotionally “clean” world of swinging offers great advantages over the messy world of emotions, though we all know that intense feeling can create explosive sex.
But I must be careful to project my own thoughts and notions onto you and J, since I don’t know either of you beyond what you have presented to us here. In any case, hats off again to the “slutty debutante” for a classy read.
January 15th, 2007 at 10:14 am
LFM, I think the middle ground is what swingers tend to gravitate to initially. There’s an ice breaker meeting over drinks to gauge physical chemistry…if that’s there, then there’s an effort made to go further. In the mose successful virtual meetings that I’ve had, there’s a first date not too long after you begin speaking. I have nurtured a very special relationship, almost entirely via the internet lately, but we have a long physical history together. So, the medium we’re left with now isn’t debilitating as much as it is an evolution for us and a way to grow in at least one way despite the distance. And, if I ever get him back between my legs again, I have a feeling it will be much different than the story I related above…
January 15th, 2007 at 10:21 am
Tom, I hope the hero of the tale is always J. With every encounter he and I have together, I see a new quality in him that I either didn’t see clearly before or didn’t know he had. I’m realizing THAT is the excitement in our new experiences together…Our love deepens.
Though the evening with Paul didn’t go well and J and I collapsed soon after Paul left, the next day was incredible between J and I. We made love the entire day with a fervor that had been missing from us. And, it was because my image of him, my view of him had a different hue…
I’ll certainly have to look out for women wanting to charm J away from me. I have my own insecurities about that in every encounter we have. But, I also have a good eye for seductresses (having a few charms of my own) and a connection with J that isn’t easily duplicated. We are not just swingers, just parents, just missionary lovers, just intellectuals, just colleagues, just Master/miss, just best friends, just anything. We’re a mess of things (sometimes quite literally) but at our core we’re worth holding onto. We’ll never be the same as the last breath we took. We’ve placed ourselves in some scary situations emotionally and sexually, and have evolved because of them.
Wow, that was sappy for a “slutty debutante!”
January 15th, 2007 at 3:56 pm
Not that this is really a laughing matter, and still Lola, you cracked me up. In the midst of this serious discussion about the complications of combining love and sex with multiple characters, you couldn’t help tossing into your comments a desire to have yet a different man between your legs. Is there irony in that, or is it just me? You are one of a kind, in a really really good way. Oh, to be that man.
January 15th, 2007 at 4:11 pm
John, the relationship I spoke of in the comment above is one that has a few more days and dates under its belt than my unfortunately timed relationship with Paul. Like any relationship it has its own inherent difficulties, but I would wager my first 451 Press check that the story would be much more debauched…
January 15th, 2007 at 5:38 pm
John, Lo has had that man fixed upon her mind for a long time. And, if he reads the blog, which I doubt, I say two things:
1. Say, please.
2. Bring Patron, not chocolate.
January 16th, 2007 at 9:26 am
To J with my pathetic Mike Myers imitation:
“We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy, we’re not worthy….”
January 16th, 2007 at 12:05 pm
Ha! Come on, you didn’t expect me to be the kind to shy away from anything, did you? After all, look at the woman I’m married to!
Alright, that’s enough looking…
On a more serious note, and the original intent of this post, I do want to say that we learned much from the experience with Paul. We did sincerely enjoy his company, but feel like another intimate experience with him would not be the type of experience we’re gravitating toward. I do want Lola to be in bed with two men who love her. Oddly enough, that doesn’t make me nervous. But, I want someone who can also put away the love and fuck her like a “slutty debutante” for a few hours.
January 16th, 2007 at 2:41 pm
Where do volunteers sign up?
J I think it would be grand to buy you a Patron-filled cocktail and swap stories about sluts and sluts-in-the-making. No, I suspect you’re both quite virile and one tough customer. Yes, you’d have to be. She sounds like quite a handful. There’s a line Dante quotes to Virgil in the “Divine Comedy,” but I can’t find my copy of it. I’m sure Lola can find it, she’s one smart deb.
January 16th, 2007 at 3:07 pm
She sounds like quite a handful… Boys, let’s remember who’s blog this is, kay? Take it outside if you’re going to talk about me like I’m not here…
January 17th, 2007 at 11:41 am
It’s much more fun to talk about you when you are here– it insures that you’ll know what we’re saying about you.
January 17th, 2007 at 2:13 pm
Tom, perhaps J can confirm or deny this, but I got the impression that the Patron was for Lola.
This K of whom she writes, profligate that he is, could still learn a great deal from Lola and J, if he’d only read her blog. Chocolate? Who would bring chocolate to her?
January 17th, 2007 at 3:38 pm
The Patron would be a gesture to me, John. The last time I saw K, he popped in when I was frustrated with a project I was in the middle of. He brought chocolate for Lo. If the man had any perspective at all, he’d know that Lo is a sure thing (she loves him, after all) and I am the one who needs a little buttering up.
January 17th, 2007 at 9:10 pm
I’m beginning to feel as if we’re speaking of a phantom man, like the Scarlet Pimpernel, albeit less dashing. Also, it seems, far less smooth in his entrances and his choice of gifts.
And shall we measure his perspective? By Lola’s account, he’s now in her life mostly via internet while she’s writing so openly about desiring him between her legs. When it comes to perspective, I’d think patron vs chocolate is the least of his issues.
January 17th, 2007 at 10:17 pm
Alright, my turn. John, say what you will. K’s perspective of me and mine of him is more than for me to be a Margerite, unaware of who he truly is. We may have spent the majority of our time and conversation avoiding the details of our life, preferring to create our own bliss while we could–but it does not change my understanding or love for him.
I’m probably speaking too openly about him. He’d likely be quite flustered to know I’m doing so–good thing he doesn’t read the blog, no?
January 17th, 2007 at 10:30 pm
While this is all oh, so erudite and polite, I think what’s missing from this discussion is an awareness of the difference between writing and flesh and blood. No matter how detailed Lola might be about K (and she’s admirably discrete about him, unlike about her voracious sex life– and thank God for that), we can never really know him– or for that matter, her– from a few lines, or even an entire book. My own blog has been going since Thanksgiving of 2005, and yet some of my readers still remain confused about certain aspects of my character– am I poly? What IS poly? Much less do they know the other major character in the “story,” the often mysterious, always elusive C.
As openly as Lola fears she’s speaking about K., he’s nothing more than a letter of the alphabet, despite our belief we know something about him. While she’s concerned (rightly) with not violating a real man’s privacy, he can never be more than a phantom, even if he drops in to comment.
Sorry, J., I know that reduces you and me to phantom status, too, but we’re all a bunch of pixels pretending to have a discussion about a lady only you and K. know. The rest of us are simply playing along, which is the way it should be. At the end of the day, she belongs to you, and we admire the fiction she’s created for our entertainment, and hope she’ll reveal a little more skin for our lascivious enjoyment.
I apologize for getting so serious, but these sorts of issues are my meat-and-potatoes. I say “brava” to the slutty debutante, and hope she will keep giving us her delicious stories. This place is my first stop every day, and I’d hate to have to substitute “Lazy Geisha” or “Sex & the Ivy.”
January 18th, 2007 at 11:38 am
There is one more “phantom” in this equation that also knows the lovely Lola quite well…with yet another perspective to offer…
January 18th, 2007 at 2:22 pm
Well now, this is getting interesting.