Not-So-Fly Swatter

*Mature Content

Under the bed lies leather fly swatter,
M bought from an Amish donut store.
But, he never swats flies,
Just the backs of my thighs;
Each wallup creating (his) belly laughter.

-Photo is mine; limerick created as per M’s instruction. He’s been daydreaming of taking it with us to the next play party, lol.

Happy Accident

Bob Ross’s face has been between my legs.

I swear!

M is a goofball. He is silly and witty and funny, all the time. We often laugh until we cry, even in the bedroom, amidst all sorts of activities. 

One recent evening, we’d just had some kinky fun. I was on my back on the bed, and when M got up, he grabbed the nearest cloth to do some preliminary clean up until we made it to the bathroom. The nearest cloth happened to be his most favorite shirt – the Bob Ross t-shirt I bought him at Target about 15 years ago. He slid his hand inside the shirt and behind Bob’s face. He then animated Bob, purposefully speaking in Bob’s voice, using Bobisms, as Bob made his way between my legs. Face first. 

So I will forever blush and giggle when I see M’s t-shirt, and Bob’s face. Also Bob’s show, which our kids love to watch.

‘Happy little trees’ and ‘happy accidents’ will never be the same.

-image credit

Long Way Home


Take the long way home, baby
We’ve got nothin’ but time
I’m not wearin’ panties
And you’re lookin’ mighty fine

Put your hand on my thigh, honey
Let those slick fingers slide
Turn up this funky song
I’ll spread my knees open wide

You watch the road, sugar
Hold the wheel one-handed, tight
Move those fingers to the beat, now
Oooh, that’s it, just right

Pull on over now, love
It’s your turn, can’t wait
Unzip and free that thang
I’m thirsty and need to hydrate

~photo credit

*Headin’ to a weekend getaway with M, y’all!

Mattress Mishap

Yesterday, two men came to inspect our mattress in accordance with our warranty. It’s been a year, and the mattress has gotten more and more uncomfortable (possibly from an abundance of ‘activity’?!?!).

In preparation for their visit, M took care of ‘de-sex-toying’ the room while I made his lunch bright and early. He went off to work, I began work, and a couple hours later, the mattress guys came. I removed the bedding for them and left them to it.

About 15 minutes later, they came up and told me they were finished. The one gentleman explained the issues they’d found: sloping to the left, several depressions 1.5-2 inches in depth (kneeling divots? knee/elbow pits?), a bulge in the middle horizontally (under the hook?), etc. He did so without ever once making eye contact.

And then, he showed me pics, as he described the issues. In one pic, plain as day, was one of our clear toy tubs out from under bed frame. If he’d zoomed in, I’m certain anyone could see its contents. Still no eye contact. From either gentleman.

Later, I was describing, in text to M, the visit. That’s when he realized he hadn’t put away two of the clear containers or removed the mattress restraint system.

Those gentleman had moved the bed and seen both containers. They’d removed the mattress to get a pic of the box springs and confirm they were in perfect working order. In order to do so, they’d also had to remove said mattress system, take the pic, replace said mattress system, and place the mattress on top!

Which explains the avoidance of eye contact.

And the corporate office now has photo evidence of some of what lies beneath our bed.

Humor Language

We laugh a lot, my husband and I. Our laughter is part of the glue that has held us together for more than 22 years, even through the toughest of times. Honestly, we are probably more childish than we have a right to be, laughing at things that probably shouldn’t be funny anymore. But, they are. Every day.

My husband is quick and witty and I frequently laugh so hard I cry. He is silly and irreverent. So am I! He makes fun of me all the time, but I’m a good sport. And, I dish it right back.

Our humor spills into the bedroom, too. It should, really, because inhibitions are so silly at this point for us. Last night, we laughed far too hard for far too long about Goulash. Don’t ask! But I was reminded of some of the other silly things we’ve said or done in the recent past.

– He asked me if his hand felt better over or under. Instantly, I thought of Airplane 2, the movie. Oveur, Unger and Dunn, in the cockpit (hehe). So, I began reciting some of the dialogue and he chimed in until we were giggling fiercely. It goes like this:
‘Simon: Captain, your navigator, Mr. Unger, and your first officer Mr. Dunn.

Clarence Oveur: Unger.

Unger: Oveur.

Dunn: Oveur.

Clarence Oveur: Dunn. Gentlemen, let’s get to work.

Simon: Unger, didn’t you serve Oveur in the Air Force?

Unger: Not directly. Technically, Dunn was under Oveur and I was under Dunn.

Dunn: Yep.

Simon: So, Dunn you were under Oveur and over Unger.

Unger: Yep.

Clarence Oveur: That’s right. Dunn was over Unger, and I was over Dunn.

Unger: So you see, both Dunn and I were under Oveur, even though I was under Dunn.

Clarence Oveur: Dunn was over Unger, and I was over Dunn.’

His hand felt better Unger until I was Dunn.

– I was sitting at his feet after my shower and he was stroking my hair, then moving downward with his hands. His knees were crossed, so I was leaning back on one of them, loving the attention. I asked if I could go to bed, hinting that I wanted him to take me to bed. He said, “How many knees do you need? You’re on my knee already, now you just want my heiny and my weenie, too.”

It’s true, I did.

– Just after sex one night, he looked me in the eyes and said, “Rada, rada.” Anyone who has seen the gawdawful cartoon, Chowder, will know how ridiculous this is, but we laughed, hysterically.

What is Schnitzel anyway?

– My sex drive has dramatically increased over the years. He said to me, after sex one night, that he hoped I didn’t have something wrong with me like in the movie Phenomenon. You know, like some brain disorder that heightened my sex drive exponentially until I died or it vanished. Morbid, but funny and endearing in a twisted sort of way.

I laughed.

– He used my body parts as a one man band. To Blink 182, The Rock Show. That song actually played while I was having sex. I’m not proud, but I did laugh uncontrollably.

– Once, he spanked me with the spaghetti strainer. Yes, that semi-circular tool with the holes in it. Why? Who knows. But, during the first few spanks, I heard him giggle under his breath a little. Usually, it’s me laughing inappropriately during a spanking. I didn’t say anything at the time, but after the spanking, my butt looked just like that damn spaghetti strainer, circles and all.

We threw it away, but I giggle every single time I strain the noodles, now.

– Pancake spatula. Same as above. I don’t know why, maybe spanking makes him hungry? Anyway, flipping pancakes = giggles at my house. Every. Single. Time.

I think humor has languages, just like love. You either speak the other’s humor language or you don’t; you either get the other’s sense of humor or you don’t. For me, that’s a deal breaker.

My husband and I, we speak the exact same humor language. In fact, it was a deal maker! We do it so well, that often times a look is all that’s necessary to make a connection, to get what the other is thinking. I think that’s gotten better with age, just like the sex. Sometimes at the same time.

Kink Next to the Sink

Did you ever have the feeling there’s some DAMP in your PANTS?
Or some RISE in your LEVI’s?
Sometimes you can be quite CERTAIN there’s been some JERKIN’ behind the CURTAINS.
Sometimes I have the feeling that his COCK is like a ROCK.
And that PLUG upon the RUG!
I have worn that one myself. 
That’s the kind of house I live in.
There’s some KINK next to the SINK. 
And a CROP in the SHOP,
It’s rather nice, I THINK (it’s new, the old one broke on my ass!).
We are quite friendly. 
But we don’t DARE to SHARE.
With PORN we’re sort of TORN. Some is just plain funny.
Some makes him pull my HAIR. 
I like the OUCH upon the COUCH. And the binding of my HAIR to the dining room CHAIR. 
But that WHIP upon my HIP….Well, I wish it wasn’t THERE. 
I enjoy the CANE with no DISTAIN. And the FLOG scares the DOG, but we like it just the SAME.
The only one I’m really scared of is the beater of the RUGS upon my JUGS.
I don’t like that, not at all. 
My favorite is the cane of WALNUT on my bare BUTT.
It puts a smile on my MUG. 
I don’t care if you believe it. 
That’s the kind of house I live in.
And I hope I never leave it.

*In honor of Dr.Suess’ birthday!

Happy Birthday!

There are no material things
That could match my love for you
No tool, no tie, or delicious cake
Not even batman underoos

The best thing I can offer you
Is a fistful of my sass
So on this happy birthday
Instead I’ll shake my ass (for you)

Happy Birthday, Love of My Life!