Hope everyone had a fantastic weekend. I could lament that I don't really have weekends because I work Saturdays, but mine was actually really nice. Got to see some friends, won a raffle at the racetrack, and the weather turned out nicer than expected. Also, Natasha Knight posted an excerpt from my book Catch a Falling Star on her blog! If you missed it go check it out.
I'm glad the weekend turned out to be fulfilling because the week itself felt like a series of missed opportunities with my husband. I actually hate when we 'plan' on having sex because it just never seems to work out that way. We are big on sexting. We've been known to go back and forth all day long sending suggestive messages throughout the work day. Sometimes this is the best foreplay ever, we get home from work and are practically tearing each other's clothes off. But some other times its like too much build up. We've been talking about it all day, talking about having sex, planning on it happening. And then we both get home, and we forgot to defrost something for dinner, we're tired and crabby and hungry. No one wants to go to the food store, but we have nothing for lunches tomorrow, and we're out of milk, again! And oh yeah, the sex, right, about that... oh, you want to postpone? Yeah, I'm okay with that.
I think this is why I am addicted to romance novels, they very rarely have day to day bullshit impeding their sex lives. I guess once in a while it happens in a story, but it's usually there to add conflict to the plot and make it spicier. I may read and write romances, but I am not living one.
I spent my Saturday morning ignoring my husband and reading all the Saturday Spankings on everyone's blogs. Then I went to work. My husband and I didn't really talk all day because I was busy at work and he was out running errands.
We had no definite plans for the night. So of course I was hoping we could relax, eat dinner, maybe have one thing lead to another. No planning, just seeing where the night took us. Then our friends texted and wanted to get together in 20 minutes to watch the hockey game. (Luckily with these friends 20 minutes really means 45.)
My husband looks up from his phone. “You want to go?”
I shrug my shoulders, seeing my night of seduction go up in flames, again. But we used to have a tight group of friends that we saw multiple times a week, now we're lucky to get together once a month, I really didn't want to say no.
“Sure.” Is my half-hearted response.
“We probably have time, want to go upstairs?” My husband suggests.
I am off the couch like a shot, my husband quickly at my heels. “Lock the door!” (They live in our neighborhood, don't want an embarrassing drop-in.)
The windows in our bedroom are wide open, but its about 9pm so its dark enough so no one can see us with the lights out. After flicking the light on for about five seconds to be sure no cats are on the bed, we slam the door shut and proceed. Sure, windows wide open, quickie in the dark wasn't really where I thought this night was going, but now I want this!
My husband has my pants off and is pushing me towards the bed before I know what's going on. He puts his hand down and realizes his belt is laying on the bed.
“Oh, I don't think we'll have time for this tonight,” he says. Yes, because now every time I leave something out he thinks I mean for him to spank me with it. Not that I'm complaining, but it's normally not my intention.
I tell him I didn't leave his belt on the bed, he says he was wearing it today with his cargo shorts.
“I just threw a load of wash in, I took your belt out of your shorts.” I try to get all the laundry done Saturday night so I am not spending my Sunday off doing wash all day.
Then he starts complaining that he only had them on a few hours today and they weren't dirty. He turns the light on, I dive behind the bed.
“Seriously! I have no pants on and the windows are open!” I am so annoyed. He turns the light back off. Continues talking about how his stupid shorts were clean.
What is happening right now? Now I'm getting super sensitive and defensive over the laundry situation. I tell him he could at least thank me for doing the laundry, it's not my freaking job.
He gets very close to me, backing me up until the back of my legs hit the bed, “Thanks for doing the laundry.” This does not sound at all sincere.
“I don't feel like doing this right now.” I fold my arms in front of my chest and try to side step him. But its dark, and he's bigger than me, and I end up on the bed instead of storming out of the room.
I'm ready to tell him to go to hell, I am so pissed right now. But now his hand is in my panties, and holy shit am I wet. When did that happen? He knows right where to touch me (damn him), I end up coming quickly and with so much force that I am wondering if our argument just served as foreplay? Is that a thing?
I am still coming back down when he positions himself between my legs and goes down on me, I start to tell him to stop, but thankfully shut my mouth. I almost start giggling because I realize my head is hanging upside down off the side of the bed. The blood is kind of rushing to my head, and I'm having a hard time taking a full breath, and then I have another intense orgasm.
I push him back on the bed so he's laying down. He helps me get his shorts and boxers off and then I get busy giving him a blow job. I don't care about anything anymore. Laundry, visiting friends, the wide open windows. I just want to make him come. I am overcome with lust, this is the only thing in the world I want to be doing right now (I honestly thought I would never say that, just the thought of oral sex grossed me out. But now I really love giving my husband blow jobs). I bring him to climax and collapse onto the bed next to him.
We lay there in the dark for a minute before finding our clothes and heading off to our friends'. We were both much more relaxed, and the laundry eventually got finished.