Meanderings: March 8, 2000

Wednesday,
March 8, 2000

Brrr. This is one of the few times in my life I'm actually glad I'm at work. It all started last night when I woke up at the request of a pressing call of nature, and padded into the bathroom for the usual business. Don't know how I missed the room temperature, but I first noticed something was amiss when I realized my feet were freezing on the tiles.

And then I sat down. Boy howdy, there's nothing like an ice-cold toilet seat to cut through a post-slumber daze, you betcha! Finished what I was doing poste-haste, then turned on the hot water tap with a dreadful suspicion. Yup -- no hot water. Which meant no underfloor heating, no heat in the radiators, and no heat in general. Now that I was fully awake thanks to the butt shock, I finally realized that the room temperature was pretty damn similar to a meat locker.

Unsurprisingly, considering the general busyness of the last few months and our general doofus-like natures, we had managed to run out of heating oil. Wonderful, just spandy. So I crawled back into bed and snuggled under two comforters and the Bodacious Brit for the rest of the night (we normally sleep under separate duvets because we tend to broil if wrapped around each other, but last night the extra body heat definitely came in handy). Considering my natural propensity to hibernate when faced with low temperatures, getting out of bed in the morning was a miracle akin to Lourdes or Gwyneth Paltrow's Oscar win.

But I did, mainly so that I could straggle into work, call Human Resources and have them arrange an oil shipment posthaste, then take advantage of the shower facilities here (have I mentioned that we have three private showers, a sunbed, and a nap room on this floor? And we can book times with a company-funded masseuse? There are times when I love working for TBS) before heading for my rendezvous with Dr. Margareta, Dentist to the Gods and the penultimate step towards getting my root canal capped.

All of which leads me to the topic of sex. What else are you supposed to think about when you're flat on your back, tipped at such an angle so that blood is rushing to your head and a masked stranger has her hands in your mouth? Of course, there are people who pay for such an experience sans dental school degree, but I digress. I sometimes think I should be much more salacious in this journal, dwelling on just what produces those involuntary monkey noises, or the relative values of assorted fruits and whipped cream.

And then I listen to Tina for a bit, and realize I am but an egg. The girl came back, loaded for bear (in more ways than one) and bursting with stories about the pleasurable aspects of piercings during sex. In fact, I was so impressed by it all that I asked her to write up a report about the weekend as her first guest entry here.

So, without further ado, here's Tina -- take it away, chickie-poo!

It was a wonderful weekend! I hadn't checked my baggage so that I could get off the plane that much faster and meet J (we'd talked for hours on the phone, exchanged emails and all that, but this was going to be our first face-to-face meeting). At Heathrow, once you clear customs and immigration there are these sliding doors that separate you from the main terminal. I paused right before the sliding doors, put on my jacket, smoothed my hair, took a deep breath, and walked out.

And couldn't find J. For one insane moment I was sure I had been stood up, until I spotted him at the back of the crowd. "I wanted to wait until you came out," he joked later, "so that I could make a quick exit in case you came out and I saw things weren't going to go well."

I walked over to him and he smiled, saying, "Oh, my God, you're more beautiful than your pictures!" Then he gave me a really big cuddle, and we walked down to the Heathrow Express holding hands and talking about everything under the sun.

When we got back to his house, he put on some music and went to fuss in the kitchen, while I sat in the bay window of his sitting room -- it has a spectacular view, and you can see the Millennium Wheel from there. And when I turned back around, he was standing next to me, and leaned down to kiss me.

It was sooooo sweet.

He said he was so nervous about it -- he'd wanted to do it at the airport, but wasn't sure if I'd allow it. Then we had sex until 4:00 pm.

[You see -- I TOLD you! Ed.]

All right, Mel, back off, that's a good girl. Mind you, we did do that a lot over the weekend, but we also spent a lot of time OUT of bed, talking about books, music, piercings, that sort of thing. Found out that we had an awful lot in common, and that both our goals and our families are strikingly similar.

But yes, we did have a lot of sex. :-) Wonderful, passionate, mindblowingly fantastic sex. It was toe-curling (and I have visual evidence of that). After the first go-round, we fell asleep in each other's arms -- partly because we had both been up since early that morning, and partly because we'd been humping each other's brains out for the past four hours. Slept till about seven, then went over to his dad's to meet his sister. Apparently his dad told the family later that I'm a lovely young lady, I'm one of the few girlfriends of J's that he's liked, and that I'm welcome anytime.

After that, we went to a Hard Rock Cafe-style place called Dizzy's for dinner, went home, had more exquisite sex until 2:00 am, and fell asleep from pleasant exhaustion. When we woke up at 7:00 am Sunday morning, J made the discovery that I'm something of a bitch troll from hell until I've had my first cigarette of the morning. He now knows to avoid me until then.

So this was Sunday -- we basically spent the morning in bed talking and doing other things (ahem) until noon, then went over to his dad's to say goodbye to his sister, then went and saw "The Green Mile." J made a few begging noises during the movie, but I glared at him -- he got the message and did up his flies.

After the movie, we promptly got lost. J's dad had given us directions over the phone -- unfortunately, we both have dreadful senses of direction, so while I was frantically paging through the A-Z, J was making sharp lefts and rights and basically trying to steer by homing pigeon power. After a few millenia of this, we finally wound up on the South Circular, so we pulled off, called for more directions, and managed to limp our way home. Sunday night was spent sprawled on the sofa at J's, watching movies and chatting with his flatmates, before we retired to his bed for -- you guessed it -- yet more sex. But just watching the telly was great -- he really pampered me, massaging my feet, getting me glasses of wine, all that.

Monday was set aside for recuperation -- neither of us felt up to much (I know -- can't imagine why), so we went out to a local town, puttered around McDonald's a bit, and found a sex shop. By the time we got home, we were both still tired and I felt like I had a sore throat, so we napped until 6:00 pm. After that, we decided to just sit on the couch, share a tub of Strawberry Shortcake Haagen-Daz and watch Corry (I was astounded at how much I'd missed while I was in Sweden).

His flatmates came home soon after that. "Oh, look -- they're already Mister and Missus, sitting on the couch and watching soaps!" one of them cried gleefully. So we decided to spend the rest of the night in with them, drinking, talking and dissing the new Aqua album (it sounds like a Broadway musical -- "Annie" by way of Denmark), after which it was time for bed and more, um, er, well, sex.

That was the night we decided to pierce my nipples. J is a professional piercer on the side, and I've been interested in doing this for some time -- while I don't like the idea of tattoos, piercing is a body mod that really appeals to me.

The procedure itself wasn't nearly as scary as I'd thought. And now I have a lovely 14mm silver-plated captured bead ring going through each nipple -- the effect is stunning if I say so myself, although I really do have to be careful about running or raising my hands above my head for the next few weeks, and sleeping on my stomach (my usual position) is right out. When I go back in April, J said that he'll replace the rings with some even nicer titanium rings.

So that was pretty much my weekend, and what a weekend it was. :-) I cannot wait to go back in April.

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