May 16, 2011

SKYE BLUE

Here we are smack dab in the middle of May, and you all know what that means don’t you? It’s time for another Insomnia Club post.

Since we covered a rather heavy topic in April, today we’re coming at you with a sexy one:

Creating and sustaining sexual tension in the age of instant gratification and sexual bombardment.

In a world where porn prevails and anytime is sexy time, how can people maintain the sexual tension in their romantic liaisons or relationships, while slowing down to savour the simple pleasure of a touch, caress or kiss? That’s the question all the members (minus a few strays) of the Insomnia Club will be answering this month. If you’d like to see what the others are saying, check them out here. To see my take on the subject, read on…

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In a few days I’m going to have my very first date with a man I’ve known, via our business relationship, for years (close to a decade in fact), and I’m really nervous. From the moment we met we’ve had a great connection, and over the years we’ve fallen into an easy friendship (at least as easy a friendship as two people can have while trying to ignore the fact that they’re hot for each other).

Now I know some of you are sitting there thinking, ‘No shit you’re nervous. Who wouldn’t be nervous about a first date after the buildup of a decade’s worth of sexual tension’, and I can’t wrong you for that. That said I want to assure you that what I’m dealing with isn’t the every day, run of the mill anxiety most people get when faced with the prospect of a first date with someone they’ve been crushing on for a looooong while.

I’m not at all worried about how it will go, if we’ll have anything to talk about once we move beyond our mutual business interests, or worse yet if we’ll actually be able to make a smooth transition from service provider and customer, to being romantically involved to some degree. No, what I’m worried about is much bigger than that – if only IMO. Dear readers, the thing about my pending first date that has got my stomach tied up in knots is my fear that I won’t know what to do with myself while I’m being…

Courted.

Yep, you read that right. I said courted, and with a capital C no less.

You see, the man in question is quite a bit older than me. And while I have no intention of putting his age on blast, I will say this. He’s a mature gentleman  who would be as lost as a doe in headlights in a conversation that involved terms and phrases like ‘the three date rule’, sexting, FWB/CSBF and a whole lot of other ish I take for granted being bandied about. He’s also the type of man that carefully considers the who, what, why, where, when and how of everything and everyone he allows in to his life – hence the long stretch of time between our first meeting and our first date. FYI: Although we both knew we were extremely attracted to each other from the moment we met, up until the day he finally asked me out his only response to my (often) shameless flirting was to make it (painfully) clear I was much too young for him.

So, when he proposed we go out for dinner to discuss “anything but business” the last time I saw him I was totally caught off guard. Partly because I thought he’d NEVER EVER ask me and partly because I knew that the fact that he did meant that he was crystal clear about his decision to let me into his life in a whole new way (Oh. My. God.)

Anyway, soon after I heard myself sputter a virtually inaudible ‘yes’ the nerves hit and I quickly offered up some lame excuse about having to leave. As I walked (on two very shaky legs) to my car all I could think was, How am I going to do this? – this being function in a completely different way (i.e. much more slowly and purposefully. And FML, in the context of dating and sex I can’t be sure I know what those words mean!) than I normally would on a date. A notion that was both intriguing and terrifying at the same time. Why you ask?

Darling as she was, you know 'Sabrina' wasn't thinking "Damn, he bought me a drink, should I give him some?" while on her date with 'Linus'.

Well, on the intriguing side, I have my doubts about my capacity to rise to the challenge of slowing down enough to meet him halfway – at some sort of happy middle ground between the courtship vs dating divide. I mean, I’m positively delighted at the idea of having the chance to revel in good conversation over a long dinner meal (or five or more even) without having to wonder (not even for a nanosecond) if I’ll be compelled to accept or decline the offer of an even longer roll in the hay at the end of the night. To be clear, that is not to say that having to think about it is a necessarily a bad thing, but having the opportunity to NOT have to consider it is definitely going to be a new (since losing my V-card anyway) and very interesting head space for me.

In contrast, on the terrifying side, I recognize that I’ve grown quite accustomed to and enjoy moving (for lack of a better word) fast. And as much as that is a relative term, let’s be honest here folks. Across the kind of the generation gap I’m talking about, my fast is rocket speed, while his is taking the lead while going uphill in the tour de France. Worlds apart.

Having come of age at a time in society when sex is EVERYWHERE, for me sex is easy – and all purpose too. It’s a quick way to communicate the fact that I’m into to the man I’m with enough to want to see him again or give him a ‘happy ending’ (assuming he’s hot enough) if I don’t. It also serves as a surefire way to relieve boredom, put an end to inane chatter,  smooth out any rough edges in the “getting to know you” process, and in the rare cases where the sex is positively mind-blowing, it’s been known to mask (for months at a time I might add) my total and complete incompatibility with my mate.

So how will a girl like me, who is more than comfortable laying on her back fairly early in the game, handle such high levels of sexual tension without shucking my clothes at the dinner table? Lord knows, but if all else fails to avoid giving him a coronary I’ll put on my chastity belt and leave the key locked in a safe, buried DEEP in the backyard at home.

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