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It is 2:11 AM on Sunday morning. The memory of a rather unseemly, if not immoral, incident from my second marriage came to mind.
It involved A, my ex-wife, M, her long time friend, and me. I had sexually “awakened”, thought I could do anything. M lived in Raleigh. She was a writer , a harpist, and a massage therapist. We were all in our 30’s at the time. We were down in the area for a visit.
I wanted a ménage à trois, among the three of us. However, I didn’t really communicate this desire to either woman. M was giving me a massage. There was that hippie New Age-y music playing. We were smoking reefer. I wanted to have sex with both women. They weren’t interested, so nothing happened. Except I got a pretty good massage. All in all, the best outcome all around.
But it was pretty creepy, me wanting to do this stuff. And not being up front about what I wanted.
A died four years ago. I don’t know what happened to M. And here I am, living with the wreckage of my past.
Dispatches From Dystopia 
What you wanted is the most common male fantasy and they could have been thinking the same thing! We don’t live in a society that teaches everyone how to talk about sex and negotiate what you want, a definite advantage of the kink community. You finally get that practice.
Yes. I’m trying to unpack 68 years of craziness in my head. Where to begin has me vexed for sure. We seem to move from one drama to the next around here, working on The Great Sun Care End Cap Return right now. Jade, thank you for reading my stuff.