Went to see Lost In Translation
last night with my friend JN. An interesting movie, some great dialogue and a lovely understated performance from the central characters Bill Murray
and the gorgeous Scarlett Johansson
. Felt a little uncomfortable with the undertow of racism in the film and with the slowness of the piece, found myself getting sidetracked (there goes my one-track mind), but I will still be rooting for Sofia Coppola
to win the Oscar. Only three women have ever been nominated for Best Director
: none have won. It's about time.
It's great going out with JN. He's an old friend and as we did the sex thing many years ago there's no longer any sexual tension between us. We just watch movies, get drunk and talk about sex. I can talk more openly with him about sex than with any of my female friends; he doesn't judge me and always has advice for me. In fact JN has been instrumental in opening my eyes to the whole swinging scene and he was the one who took me to my first ever sauna
a few months ago.
So last night was no different. We drank some beers, dissected the movie and gossiped about our sex lives. He's still surfing the web seeking his 'ultimate' in couple encounters (a young submissive sexy male and female who want him to join them regularly). And I'm still obsessed with having my first threesome with two guys - specifically R and B. JN's advice was to wait and see if B contacts me and then to invite him along with R to have some fun. He said under no circumstances should I call B and suggest it: I think he's right. I can imagine feeling pretty shitty afterwards if the whole thing was set up by me; I want to be able to maintain my pride and dignity - even in the face of some hardcore fun.
Which leaves me with a big imagination, one hot pussy and a multitude of AA batteries needed to sustain me until further notice...