Not tonight honey, you’ve given me a headache.
Have you ever felt like saying that to your man? Do you ever wish that you could pop in a pair of industrial strength ear plugs, set the mood lighting and convince your guy to do a sexy striptease while he told you about his day. You see, this way, he could vent, and you could just take in the very sexy, and aphrodisiacal (is that a word?!), site of your man grinding off his clothes right down to his sexy little leopard print bikini undies. ‘
I think it’s a genius idea. Don’t get me wrong, I think that men could use the same little aural reprieve and visual smorgasboard as well.
We expect so much from our partners. Independently we go about our business every day, happy to come home to our one and only to share our experiences, our thoughts, and get a little pat on the back and consoling. The trouble is, especially if you have children or other family commitments, or even just personal hobbies of your own, that by the time the telling of our daily tales is over, there’s little time or energy for the va-va-va-voom that caused your addiction to your honey in the first place.
Thank goodness I can honestly say that my own “desire” also known in the 1980’s as “sex drive” is healthy and strong. It’s just not strong enough to push through the quick sand of mundane conversation to the oasis of lips and skin in under 2 seconds. Women joke around about men being randy and ready all of the time, but I don’t think that’s the case. I wish it were the case, but it hasn’t been part of my extensive experience in the village of Port Dating or metropolis of Mt. Marriage.
The other night, I had just finished listening to a half an hour discussion about cleaning the basement when my darling, charming and sensitive man finally asked how my day was. He snuggled in, spooning me, and gave me a kiss on the neck. One sentence into how my day was he cut me off, “I don’t want to talk about that before bed!”
What the hell?! So, I suggested that perhaps it was a topic as conducive to coital bliss as cleaning out his basement, and he should shut his man-chops and listen. That did it. He rolled over, face to the wall, back to me, and pretended he was asleep. I lay there, ticked off, but determined not to let another night go by without at least a few of our dirty bits touching.
I knew that just a few inches away from me, on the other side of the bed, there was a man laying wide awake, too proud to admit that he wanted a little snogging, perhaps a little groping, perhaps a little cushie wushie tushie. I started to make some very sexy, very soft moaning sounds. “Oh. Mmmm….Oh baby, I love that.”
“What the hell are you doing?” he said, still facing the wall.
“Oh yah, baby. OH BABY!! OH yah, oh yah, just like that baby. Harder, OH GOD”, I moaned and yelled, rocking the bed a bit with my chubby bum.
“Would you stop that!” he said, rolling over to his back. I knew that despite himself, he was likely stiffling a smile in the dark.
…and that’s when the real fun started. After all, we have to make our own fun, seize the important moments, and enjoy one another.