Even though it started a little late, the date yesterday evening went great. Of course. It took us a while to get into serious head space. We were giggling about the missing dick. Sara came up with the "Have you seen me?" line. And much as I was whining yesterday about our aches and pains, we didn't sprain or strain anything. Somehow our bodies always come through for us at the critical moment. Unh.

As planned, we did a non-adversarial Jualian and Eleanor scene. They hardly knew what to do with each other. Well, yes they did. But it was different from their norm.

I went with the knife and some clothespins (that was a spur of the moment decision). Sara went all-out. That woman has such incredible stamina. She'd been storing up the MegaSex Power Juice and let go of a liberal application last night.

We didn't do too bad as far as the damage went, though. Casualties: two bottles of water, four towels (one bath sized), two condoms, two bed pads, my t-shirt, and my hair. Miraculously, my boxer-briefs, my jeans, the sheets and the comforter sustained minimal or no damage at all. We're getting good at this. But I advocate more practice and constant drilling.

Sara says Julian's a pig because he throws condoms on the floor. I say the wastebasket needs to be closer to the futon.

Early in the evening, as I was busy with the preliminaries of getting down to business, Sara looked at me and said, "You should see the silly-happy expression on your face when you take my bra off." Hrnk. Yeah.

I'm getting pretty good at biting Sara, making her think or feel that I'm biting hard, and still not leaving much of a mark, if any. She's also getting damned good at how much pain she can tolerate. Tolerate isn't the right word. Enjoy. That's more like it.

The best part of the evening for me was when she grabbed my head as I had my mouth to her throat and said, "Hurt me."

*swoon thud*

She wore me out. I wore her out. She fell asleep in my arms and I could feel her eyelashes transmitting the REM of her dreams on my skin. I could only let her snooze for about 10 minutes, though, before I had to wake her up. She didn't want to move. I didn't particularly want to move either. It would be so nice to fall asleep together after sex.

We might get to if Jake and Deb go on a bike trip. Deb has decided to go to either Tybee Island or a friend's condo on the Gulf Shore. Jake hasn't made up her mind about whether or not she'll go.

And speaking of Jake, she read my diary yesterday. May I just say ...

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

I was looking through my Big Brother logs, I mean Sitemeter records, and saw a hit from Jake's company. I sent Sara an e-mail saying, "Ummmm, Jake's not reading my diary from work is she? Cause I know you read her stuff from it sometimes, but that's just generic stuff, not like my writing on what we do together. 'Cause I probably would have worded some things differently or not mentioned them at all if I thought Jake was going to read it." *feel the palms sweating*

Sara called me when she got the e-mail. Apparently Jake had been trying to find my Ricky and Lucy entries, and naturally started with my current post. When she saw what it was about, she moved on fast. Sara told me not to change my content over this issue and to let Jake take responsibility for going there, i.e. she does it at her own risk.

SIDENOTE: One of the best things about my polyamorous family is that we're all mature enough to take responsibility for our own actions and our own problems. I really think that's one of the main reasons it's working out so well. The other best thing is that we're all really cute. Heh.

Now back to our story.

See, Jake and Deb got way tired of hearing me and Sara rave about how wonderful we find each other as lovers, so they don't really want to know the details anymore. Which is why I told Deb not to read my diary.

And just to make things more interesting, Jake talked to Deb yesterday and told her what had happened, stressing to Deb that "You REALLY don't want to read Badsnake's diary." Oh, well. Thanks, Jake. Why don't you tell her not to think about pink elephants, or not to stick beans in her ears? Deb's natural response was an intense curiosity about what she was missing. Errrrg.

Lucky for me, Deb says that only lasted a couple minutes before more rational thoughts kicked in.

I love my life, but sometimes it gets a little complicated in the relationship department.

Deb displayed her usual good humor about my post-date state.

My hair's all mashed down and weird looking, my eyes are glazed, my body is completely relaxed. Big smile stuck on my face.

She kind of metaphorically pats me on the head like I'm a kid all pleased with myself for getting a hit in T-ball. "Did you have a good time, honey?"

I'm feeling all studly and like I could conquer the world. She's just glad I don't have metaphorical popsicle juice on my chin. In other words, if my face is sticky after sex, I know enough to wash it before she gets home.

Was that TMI? I don't know. You're a pretty loose crowd. But Sara blushes pretty easy sometimes, too. I walk a fine line between not reavealing enough to satisfy me and my loyal fans, and getting CUT OFF. I should never have given this URL to anybody who knows us.

I risk a lot for you total stranger people. Hope you appreciate it.