So Dave came back safely in one piece from his night away with the lads. I saw a couple of pictures of him on Facebook posted by one of his mates and he looked FIT. I was so proud that he was my husband and was jealous that I wasn’t there to take advantage of him.
I have no problem with him heading on nights out (so long as he doesn’t have a repeat of him getting admitted to A&E like last year… The less said about that the better!). And actually I love hearing about girls hitting on him. It makes me feel chuffed that I have a gorgeous husband who other girls find attractive but he comes home to ME.
So when I came home this afternoon to find him freshly showered and looking all handsome and hungover (how the hell do blokes still look fit when they’re hanging out their arse, yet I look fucking awful?!) I realised just how much I’d actually missed him. I didn’t miss him last night when I was taking advantage of having the sofa, TV and bed all to myself, but now that he was stood in front of me again I was just grinning like a Cheshire Cat!
And then when he told me he had to flash his wedding ring as women were grinding up against him on the dance floor last night (I’m taking his word on this here…) I suddenly felt incredibly horny. Kissing turned into groping which turned into being dragged upstairs for the hottest quickie of our relationship!
Literally 20 minutes earlier I’d been with my family at my grandfather’s grave after a Remembrance service, and then here I was, being fucked from behind and having my hair yanked back and my arse slapped.
It was the sort of sex that makes your toes curl, your hair stand on end and goosebumps prick up all over your body. I didn’t want it to end, and I was still horny after. Then the weirdo that I am, I burst into tears! I’ve only cried once before after sex from being overcome with emotions and hormones so I don’t make a habit of it. Dave just finds it funny!
Then as soon as ‘the mat’ came out, and Dave had finally found his boxers again, he quipped “So, I bet that’s going in the blog isn’t it?”
Well yes actually Dave. But don’t be thinking I’m using this blog as a platform to massage your ego and tell everyone how big your cock is and rate your bedroom skills out of 10* because it’s not that sort of blog. I’m using this blog to document the highs and lows of TTC – and as it happens, the irony is this afternoon’s session was a high because we weren’t trying to make a baby (I’m not in my fertile window anyway).
So if Dave going away for a night leads to incredible reunited sex the next day, then I actively encourage his mates to take him away more often!
*8 inches and 10/10 in case you’re wondering 😉