Between the Sheets

I adore being the hostess. Our G.O.D. celebration was absolutely perfect: charming guests, well stocked bar and refreshments, toys, candles, etc.

HOWEVER, hosting in your own home is another matter entirely. We don’t typically do it for a number of reasons:

1. Sometimes our playmates are just that. They’re not friends. We don’t see them as long-term friends. So, there’s no point in sharing our home address with them.

2. Typically our kids are around. So, when we CAN con someone into babysitting our brood, we leave the bunch there for easier bedtimes.

The third reason that I’ll add to that list today is that it requires a huge amount of cleaning and prep on my part. I’d never invite someone into a less than immaculate home. So, in anticipation of Paul tonight, I’ve scoured the kitchen and the bathroom. I’ve changed the sheets, tossed away our clutter (I have books everywhere, typically. It’s very nerdy and bugs the hell out of J.) I’ve gone shopping for some cheeses, fruit and wine.

And, it’s 4pm. He’ll be here at 6:45pm. And I still haven’t begun all of MY grooming. I’m in sweats, no makeup, haven’t shaved, and hair is in a ponytail. It’s not as cute as it sounds. My hands smell like bleach. Ugh.

This is the first time I sat down today. And, the more I let my mind settle, the more nervous I am. Two men that I love dearly will be in the same room tonight. They’ve each done their part in trying to assuage my nervousness. It’s sweet, but it didn’t help at all. Paul keeps asking the “temperature of my feet.” To which, my response is: “Partially frozen. Amputation highly likely.”

Yes, I most certainly should have made a reservation, hired a maid, or something other than what I did today.

I’d prefer to be lighting candles and having my first cocktail of the evening right now.

Bath’s ready…

(SIDENOTE ABOUT PHOTO: I should have hired HER to clean the house! This photo is funny to me, not sexy. It’s probably because I’m sitting here grungy right now, but no one looks like that when they wash dishes…if we did, our husbands/lovers would have us bent over the counter in a New York minute.)

threesome, group sex, polyamory, polyamorous, sex