Sleet

After days of unseasonably warm weather, a winter storm moved in yesterday, just in time to make the roads icy for the evening commute, resulting in five different guys calling within ten minutes to tell me that they had to cancel for dinner last night. Wimps. There were two other guys who I could only reach by email. I was pretty sure that they wouldn't venture out (the roads were pretty bad, I guess, and there were a lot of traffic incidents), but I emailed them when I got home to make sure, and I was right. That still left two guests: one who lives less than a quarter mile away and one who works way over in Northern Virginia and who I figured might be coming directly from work and probably wouldn't get the message I'd left him.

And, hell, I'd already made all the food, so I started heating things up and figured that if the last two guys couldn't make it, then b&c and I could drown our sorrows in chili and beer. Or chili and wine. Or chili and martinis. As it happened, they both made it, and it was a great evening. I drank wine while I was cooking, then switched to a martini while we were standing around the kitchen talking and then beer with dinner.

Dinner was a little comical. I'd cooked for a crowd, and we had our table open all the way with the leaves inserted. If it hadn't been for the weather, there would probably have been eleven or twelve of us, and we couldn't have all eaten at the table, probably, but with four, we could have all passed out on the table without touching each other. Nobody did, though, not even A., who had three or four of my martinis as well as some wine and a small glass of Port with dessert. That boy can hold his liquor.

[Just so you know, the way I make a martini is to drain a big jar of olives and then add some lemon zest to the olives and then fill the whole jar with Vermouth. I keep a bottle of Tanqueray in the deep freezer. I take a toothpick and spear three of the olives on it, then I drop that in a martini glass, and then I pour the gin over it. So basically, you're drinking below-zero gin and eating olives. Best martini ever.]

So we ate and sat around and talked about sex for four hours. We talked about everything, but all topics should and do lead back to sex. It's really too easy with four people, but I like to draw little mental maps of who's had sex with whom at any party. So there were b&c, C., A., and I. Obviously I have sex with b&c frequently. C. and I just met a couple of weeks earlier, and we've had sex, but only once. I've had sex with A. a number of times, and he, b&c and I, had a threeway once. C. and A. were meeting for the first time last night, but C. was -- verbally -- all over A., and while I doubt they hooked up after dinner last night (they left after midnight, and C. had to be at work early this morning), I'm pretty sure that within a week they will have hooked up. Still, as of last night, I was the only one there who'd had my hands in the spunk of each of the others. Go me.

[Late update: I asked b&c tonight whether he'd noticed how C. seemed to be really into A., and he agreed that it was a surprise that C. had managed to restrain himself from leaping across the table and taking A. over coffee. As it happens, he nearly did: I just got an email from A. saying that after they left here, they went back to C.'s place. ]

I was thinking during dinner that it probably wouldn't have been that hard to get everyone into bed together, but I was too tired, full, and inebriated, so that my mind was all horny, and my body was all "Dude, you are not getting out of this chair." Besides, I would have needed a shower. And I'm not sure that I'm ready to get that much of a reputation. Yet. Maybe sometime soon, though. It would have been two tops, one vers/bottom, and one bottom, and it could have been pretty hot, especially since I know what pushes all their buttons.

I think that's it for my social life for another month. I'll still be doing some limited hooking up, but it's work, work, work, work, work from here until the tax deadline. No time, and I'm a bundle of hormones. I might have to start jerking off in the shower.