Archive for celebrations
How Do I Celebrate Tank’s Birthday?
Posted by: | Comments“Shit. What do I do for his birthday? What I’d thought about doing weeks ago? Or something different?”
My heart was pained. And my nights were sleepless.
“C’mon G-d. Give me some sort of message.”
“Be true to yourself, Randi.” Ah, I knew exactly what I’d do.
I decided there’d be three parts to his gift. Part one was easy: A card mailed to his home. You know the type: the sarcastic kind when one hits 40. I switched the 40 to 41 and sent it off a week ahead of time.
His response? Not one mention about it.
Part two was going to be more difficult. One day, many months earlier, he’d shown me a leather neckpiece he used to wear. The symbol on it had broken 
in half. He’d said he’d never been able to find a replacement and had been looking for over a year. I’d only gotten a quick glance at it. I thought perhaps it was the zodiac sing for cancer but wasn’t all that sure. On a fluke, one day I was browsing the web and poof! I realized I’d found it.
For part three, I bought several boxes of fortune cookies and removed the fortunes from them with a tweezers. On the back of 41 of them, I wrote one thing I liked about him. NONE of them were sexual in nature. And then I placed them in a small can and sealed it.
The day after Tank’s birthday dinner with his family—sans me—I was flying home from a client that night—he appeared at my door.
I gave him Part Two. He unwrapped the package and didn’t say a word when he saw what was inside. Instead he immediately put it on and reached down to kiss me in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“Where’d you find this, Randi?”
“I got it online. Is it the right item? I wasn’t sure.
“It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. I can’t believe you found it. My whole family’s been looking. No one’s found it. Thank you. This is really nice.”
“You’re welcome. I also have something else for you.” I handed him the can.
He opened it and stared at me, quizzically. “What are these for?
“Each cookie has a fortune in it—from me. Something I like about you. Open one.”
“No. I’m going to save them for those days when I need a boost. Then I’ll pull one out.”
Then, he took my hand. And walked me out of the family room, through the living room, up two short flights of stairs, down the hall and into my bedroom. He put a DVD into the TV and plopped down on the bed next to me.
I was lying on my tummy. All set to watch the movie. He laid down next to me on his side and put one arm around my waist. His tongue entered my mouth. It tasted so sweet. I took one of my fingers and slowly put it into his mouth. And then into mine. I heard him moan. Against my leg, I felt his cock harden inside his pants.
He turned me on my back and pulled up my dress to expose my thong. When I felt his fingers moving inside of me and his tongue sucking on my clit, I knew I’d done good.
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
Posted by: | CommentsTank and I’ve been chatting about it for a couple weeks. How and when to cross the line from the private world we’ve created for ourselves into the vanilla part of our lives. My memory is fuzzy on the specifics. But somehow, somewhere we started talking about the possibility of having me meeting his daughter.
It may have begun with the sandals I left at his home a few weeks ago. His daughter was enchanted by them. Thought maybe they were for her. So I know they talked about me. I didn’t ask what they discussed. It just didn’t seem to be all that important.
And then I had my epiphany. On my daily walk. I get these very strong intuitions. About people. Situations. What I need to do. They’ve compelled me to act all my life.
I thought, “Wouldn’t it be cool if I could find the exact same sandals for his daughter and pair them with a journal as a gift?” This month, not only does she graduate from high school but she also turns 18. And I know from her dad that she likes to write. So, I came up with this idea of giving her a new set of shoes for the next part of her journey—the journal is for her to capture memorable moments walking in them.
I told her dad my idea on the phone. He actually liked it. Liked it so much that he told her about it. Now, I must tell you I was taken aback just a bit about the disclosure. In my world, gifts are meant to be a surprise.
And then he told me why. He wanted to find a way for her to ask to meet me. Which she did. She said she couldn’t accept a gift from someone she hadn’t met. Which gave him the entrée to say he could solve that problem. So we scheduled a dinner for this evening. Just the three of us.
Only, things changed yesterday. I learned about it when Tank and I connected late in the afternoon.
“Tomorrow night . . . it’s going to be more like trial by fire.”
“What do you mean, Tank?”
“Well, it’s my nephew’s birthday. And everyone is getting together for dinner.”
“What do you mean, everyone?”
“My parents, my sister and her roommate, me and my daughter, my brother and his family. And you.”
And me. Me. The woman who hasn’t met a guy’s family in eons. Truth be told, I’ve only met the kids and family connected to three men that I’ve dated in the last 11 years—the last encounter being five years ago.
This change made dressing for a house party or the gangbang seem like child’s play. Last night I tore my closet apart, trying to find just the right outfit for that first impression. And here it is, Friday morning, and I still haven’t made that decision. Which means I haven’t decided what color eye shadow would look best (or whether to wear any at all) or what shoes to wear or what jewelry to put on. And a million other items ….
I’m very mindful of the fact that the bad girl side of me needs to go dormant for the rest of today. And that the good girl needs to come forward. Wish me luck, eh? And I promise to tell you all after I take a walk on the wild side!
Welcome to Randi Buckmen's adventures in intimacy—beyond the world of sex. Hear how I’m embracing the possibilities of what can be while remaining a “good girl” in the public’s eye. How did I go from being celibate for three years—and wearing flannel pj's to bed with socks when I was married—to where I am today?
