When Office Sex Become “HO-hum”

For the squeamish of heart, I would skip this post entirely.

I never thought I would live to say this, but office sex has become routine. Mundane. Run of the mill.  HO-hum. Bordering (need I say it?) boring.

You’re probably thinking, “Why doesn’t she just do it in her house? Doesn’t she have a bed?”

For the uninitiated, yes, we do have a bed. Several of them, now that many are empty because of nest evacuation by the little birdies. We also have a hide-a-bed in the basement, but there’s a brigade of centipedes down there, and I don’t spend much more time other than running to the laundry room and back.

We also live in a house that is largely windowed with no window treatments. The upside is that the cat doesn’t have to scratch his way up the drapes to get to a window sill. The downside is that everyone, including God, the meter reader and the retired doctor neighbor down the street can see inside straight to the back yard.

Office sex used to be exhilarating. There was a bit of taboo in having sex almost in public, along with incorporating inspiring moves among the furniture usually not conducive to sex. (Ever do it in a standard office chair? That takes some imagination.) We would hurriedly clean up. Sometimes, we would forget the box of Kleenex and have to run willy-nilly (heh, heh… willy?) down the hall to get something to absorb body fluids. (The poor leather couch!) Then there is the fact that we buy Febreze by the case, just to get rid of the lingering odor of sweat and stuff. We own the building, so we can do whatever we want. The business doesn’t officially open until 9, so we would usually make hot nasty love between 8 and 8:30. Our walls are paper thin, but that psychologist who leases the space below my husband’s conference room is never there at that time of day anyway.

Yesterday, while putting my clothes back on, I thought, “Hmm, this doesn’t feel quite as exciting as it used to.” Perhaps it’s because we’ve overused the space. It used to be kind of thrilling in a weird way when the one employee who has been trying to catch us in the act shows up at 8 a.m. to see what we’re doing. It was quite hair raising when the workmen came at 8 to make repairs on the roof and they weren’t scheduled until 9.

I’m thinking a change of venue might be in order. Hmm… I wonder if we can get into a nearby now-closed sports arena?

I’m opening up the floor to suggestions.

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Living in a Glass House

I’m usually pretty open about myself. On other online forums, I use my own real name. Now my thought is that eventually I’d like to be considered seriously for my writing, thus the use of my real name. Some people might think that is a pretty foolhardy move. There are some online who are a little off kilter, just plain weird or downright dangerous.

I started using my own real name for a couple of reasons. One, I was naive. I thought everyone did it. Two, I am very bland. You could say really boring and saccharine to the Nth degree. I can’t really think of a cutesy moniker. I even have the same email address for many different service providers, you know, *.msn, *.aol, *.yahoo, *.gmail, *.hotmail, etc. I have certain things go to certain email; for example, I use the MSN address when I buy things online. I shouldn’t say this, but I use the same two or three passwords for all the email. This is because I can’t remember diddley in my old age.

I know of people who don’t do that, for whatever reasons. Mostly, they don’t want to be bothered, and I can appreciate that. Also, if an online persona has young children, I believe that one should be careful about posting their names, ages and photographs. I understand completely that there plenty of whackjobs out there.

On the other hand, I am “out there” as myself. My children are adults (well, one is, and one is almost an adult, in two months and seven days, as she keeps telling me ad nauseaum) and I’m an adult. Last I looked, my husband is an adult. My real name is rather unique. In fact, every person on the planet with my surname has an ancestor that came from the same small village in eastern Europe, so we’re all related by blood or marriage. I figure, might as well be out there and keep my “enemies” where I can see them.

Do I have enemies? Well, I’m not sure, but I’m not naive enough to think that the Internet is one happy bubble of pleasantness and joy. I’m sure there are some who have Googled my name and found a treasure trove of information which could be used to smite me. It happened to my husband. On the other hand, I have had long-lost friends find me online, and that alone has been satisfying to have my information in a public forum where they could contact me.

I’ve been extremely lucky and greatly blessed by the people I’ve met as a result of my online world. I love all of them. As I have told MIB, the Internet is the new neighborhood. This is how we meet people with similar interests and passions. This doesn’t mean that we’re here to hook up or do something weird. This is the Brave New World.

I was just thinking about this because I called an online friend today who is not feeling very well. In our conversation, I asked him if he would be interested in meeting me or the rest of the motley crew that we’ve known in the last year. He said no. I can understand the hesitation.

The other reason I thought of this today is because of my house. My husband, who was feeling a bit randy today, gave me a grope in the kitchen and asked “quickie?” but then remembered he had a guy coming over at 7:30 to give us an estimate on repairing the old rotting wood in our sun room. We don’t have sex in the lower level of our house, because it’s all windows and no window coverings. Talk about a glass house.

That’s why God made offices and office sex.

But I digress… my point is, I’d rather have it all shook out in public online than a quickie in our “glass” house.