. . . when your Sunday starts off with you and the husband fooling around under the covers in the bedroom, giggling and laughing like a couple of horny teenagers, while the children watch cartoons in the front room. They're even better when you are blessededly given a no-strings-attached orgasm and he didn't even ask for a blow-job in reciprocation.
I wish every day was Sunday.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
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5 comments:
Crap. My Sunday has been NOTHING like that. :)
:-)
I'll bet he's gonna ask later! The day is still young!
aka Monty - Dear, mine are rarely like that either. I'm kind of in shock from the surreality of it all. LOL
Monkey - Yeah...since I posted that he's alluded to the fact that I am somehow obligated. Oh well...it was worth it! ;)
Ewww....WTMI!!!!!!!!!!!!!
.....did you have to cover your mouth so little KD didn't come in and ask "Mommy, why's Daddy the lellow-knuckle-head makin you scream w/ all you clothes gone?" Ha! I just spoiled a prefectly good orgasm, didn't I? So sorry.
Ahhh...that was one of those days where I was thankful the volume on the TV was turned up kinda loud!! LOL
And yeah, you kinda made me feel oogey....
heehee
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