The very first thing to do was to switch places. If our s3x life was currently running solely on Adrienne-time we needed to switch it to Boyfriend-time, at least to try it and see what it was like. So we decided that for one week, we would do just that.
We would be running our relationship on his biological frequency instead of mine. I could try anything for a week. Boyfriend was too cautious to be excited as if I would change my mind if he showed too much enthusiasm…lol
We started on Monday with morning s3x before he left for work. I was in the habit of spending the night at his place (it was nicer than mine, albeit less homey — and I’m a writer so I don’t have to get up and get dressed at the crack of dawn like he does) and usually he lets me sleep and I talk to him dreamily while he gets ready, without really waking up.
But today was the first day of S3x-On-His-Terms week and I woke up to his breath on my neck and his hand running up my leg, grazing the boy-cut pant1es I wore to bed — and running back down again. He was ready to start. I opened my legs to him immediately.
There was something freeing about the choice already being made. I was going to have s3x with him, I was necessarily “in the mood” because I’d already decided I was going to be. For an overly-analytical maximizer like me, decisions are a lot of work and knowing this one was already made felt relaxing and luxurious. Like morning s3x. I made him 45 minutes late that day. He blamed it on a faulty alarm clock…lol
This morning was so hot. I can’t wait for more. The second was more forceful than complimentary: Stay in bed. I’m coming home for lunch. I laughed. This was part of a fantasy he had about my schedule. When we first started dating he thought that a freelance schedule meant that I would always be available to him. He talked about lunchtime rendezvous — coming home to pillage me and then leaving me nakked there while he returned to work.
I filled him in on the reality of deadlines and the hours of uninterrupted focus it took to produce something really good. He got it, but it was like telling a kid Santa isn’t real. Today was going to be his redemption.
I have to admit, it was hot to snuggle back into his linens, smelling him, waiting for his return — to be instructed not to dress. It was the kind of thing where I might usually touch myself and think of his hands instead of mine, but his return was coming so soon that I didn’t, I just waited for him and smiled my cat-who-got-the-mouse smile when he walked in, already unbuckling his belt.