The Southern Gentleman once said I reminded him of Phyrne.
I’d never heard that one before.
“You’re attractive. You’re artistic. A lot of people would consider your lifestyle to be indecent."
I could handle that. I was even flattered.
"Oh, and you’ve got awesome tits.”
Ding ding ding.
I think he’s the only friend of mine who could ever get away with comparing me to a BC-era prostitute. (Okay, okay, she was courtesan. So she didn’t get paid.)
Pleasant Surprise: I was out for lunch yesterday with one of my best friends from high school. I kind of assumed she was vanilla because I have this terrible habit of just doing that (better safe than sorry?). I forget what we were talking about, but suddenly she looks up from her food and goes, “do you know who Sasha Grey is?”
Needless to say, we bonded like crazy at that point about how upset we are that she retired. I love when my friendships just get a teensy bit deeper like that.
The relationship between one of my friends and I can best be explained by examining that of Waldorf and Statler on the Muppets. They were my favorite. They were assholes. I loved them.
We’ll call my friend the Southern Gentleman. Why? Because he’s southern. And he’s a gentleman.
We’re pretty similar people. Same sense of humor, same interests, same sexual inclinations. He and I aren’t together or anything like that, we’re just becoming very good friends. He and his girlfriend are poly, but neither of them are bisexual. That takes a lot of trust. It also must be boring since they can’t share people at all.
We usually sit around and talk pretty candidly with each other about anything from sexual preferences to Kanye West’s ego. He’s an amazing conversational partner. And, mostly, we wind up turning into these old cooks pictured above.
My girl A and I pulled it out last night. And when I say “pulled it out”, I mean had an amazing time.
She’s literally just the best person in the world. Like my absolute “twin”. Which is kind of hilarious to say because, although we have the same sense of humor and very similar personalities, I’d say we’re pretty different.
A’s completely straight and completely vanilla. She’s active, but she doesn’t masturbate. I just couldn’t even imagine.
And so I naturally kind of kept my shit on lock when we first got close. Because, you know, I’m not entirely candid with people to begin with, but when she was the first one to break the floodgates and tell me about something sexual, I kept myself massively toned down.
The first time I told her the whole song and dance, we had been drinking. We were at a friend’s pregame and stopped by my room to pick up sweaters to wear over to the party since the weather had gotten very cold very suddenly. She asked me a question about something vaguely kinky, I answered, and then the floodgates got opened.
But, not by me, I was still incredibly tight-lipped. It was A who wanted to know everything. She asked to see the handcuffs, the nipple clamps, the vibrator, everything. I don’t think I would’ve gone along with it had I not had some liquid confidence. When we were finally heading out to go, I asked, “so, do you think you’re kinky?”
“Me?” she laughed, “hell no. I just find it fascinating.”
And that’s why I love this gal. We’re going out again tomorrow night and bringing this photo 200% (with some clothing on). She’d so be the one on the left.
My best friend from elementary school, who I haven’t seen or spoken to in 7 years, found me on facebook. After talking for about ten minutes, we figured out that we basically grew up to be the same person. It turns out she goes to school not too far from me. The possibilities are endless.
After a week that seemed to drag on forever, I’m getting ready to head out for what will surely be quite the evening with my bestie. Although I do generally take pride in my appearance, it feels good to set some real time aside to primp. I get damn girly when I’m given some time.