You know I posted yesterday evening about spicing things up in the bedroom?
Well last night I was delivered a lesson in speaking too soon.
It was a standard night. I was on the sofa reading a book (Sylvia Day Crossfire series – if you haven’t read them then you absolutely MUST!) and looking particularly hideous with no make up and undone hair after an earlier shower. I was also wearing a fucking bear onesie. Dave was switching between watching WWE Wrestling and re-runs of The Great British Bake Off (like, WTF?). He went to bed at 9:45pm as he was feeling tired from working hard all day, and I stayed up a bit longer to carry on reading. Eventually, after falling asleep on the sofa at about 11pm I decided to head to bed.
So far so normal (in a married life kinda way).
As I tiptoed into the bedroom I could hear Dave sound asleep as he was quietly snoring. I silently changed into my pyjamas and snuck into bed beside him. I was a stealth ninja. He didn’t stir at all. Just as I was getting comfortable and was 20 seconds away from being fast asleep myself and dreaming about Gideon Cross doing naughty things to me, I felt an arm snake around my waist and pull me away from the edge of the bed.
Turns out my husband was going to do naughty things to me instead.
Now, sex these days is usually planned. I will at least make sure I have brushed my teeth, if not shaved my legs and vag, if I know that things are going to happen in the sack. I was unprepared for this. It was also pitch black. I couldn’t have actually been sure it was my husband that was doing this to me as I couldn’t see a thing. *Insert fantasy male here*
What followed for the next 15 minutes was U N B E L I E V A B L E.
My earth has never been rocked so much. It was like Dave had just watched the latest 50 Shades Darker film and decided to try everything out on me that Christian Grey does on Ana Steele in the film. I would barely be in one position before I’m flipped into another. In fact, I remember a new position was tried out which ended up being a good workout for me. The absence of one sense (sight) enhanced the others tenfold. Dave normally doesn’t make a sound in the sack – he generally leaves that to me – but last night he sounded like a man possessed. It was hot as hell. His pace, speed and depth were the hardest I’ve ever experienced. In fact, I had to tell him to stop on a couple of occasions because I couldn’t take it.
And as suddenly as I was pounced upon, it stopped and we went back to sleep. Except I couldn’t.
“Dave, what the fuck just happened here?! You were fast asleep.”
“I don’t know. Just couldn’t help myself.”
Mmm. Either that, or he read my last blog post…
P.S. Apologies to the neighbours. There wasn’t a murder taking place between 11pm and 11:15pm last night. Apart from the murder of my lady parts.