Foreign language classes

Stirring this morning was all that was needed for Him to pounce. As He nibbled and nipped his way up one’s spine one noticed that He was experiencing difficulty getting a grip. It seems that there is a lot more muscle going on there than one realised... a victory for one small slave. He got his own back of course... for the record the jockey position is murder on thigh muscles that are still so sore one needs an assist off the couch L

Now in case you are wondering what we are doing in bed together on a Sunday morning it is simple. It was His belated work Christmas do last night so He had the night off. It was a BBQ at the bosses place, mostly due to the fact that the budget was too small to do anything else. May one just say there is not enough alcohol to ever make one of those better... there is nothing worse than a night out with people who have nothing in common with each other than work. On top of that they are mostly petrol heads and one doesn’t even drive... a topic we will return to at a later date. Anyway back to a night with the ‘nillas; more precisely their interpersonal relationships and conversations.

In one corner was the host who spent the night fending off sniper attacks from his wife. It seems when out shopping, he made an executive decision to get crackers not chips to go with the dip. A decision that was loudly supported by his male work colleges. Oh not that he got crackers... more that he had made a choice she didn’t approve of. Judging by the amount of times she returned to the topic... the curse of good hearing... he won’t be getting anything other than shit from her for several days to come. That or they like angry sex and this is how they drum up the emotional energy to get their jollies.

The other corner was held by the young man who is the partner of the hot chick from work... a title bestowed by the other men at work. He has an interesting approach to interpersonal relationships, as he believes everything said to him by his partner is a trap designed to make him fail. To compensate for this he resorts to the most blatant displays of passive aggressive behaviour one has ever witnessed. Of course he makes up for this by buying her flowers... with her money as he doesn’t work.

It was like watching a movie... one that they forgot to put up subtitles to. Not only could one not imagine under what circumstances you would want to share your body with these people, but one couldn’t understand why they were together. Why would you want to marry someone if you couldn’t respect their decision to buy crackers let alone anything else? For that matter why would someone who clearly thinks of himself as a ten choose someone he clearly thinks of a six... at best?

Obviously we have been doing this too long. When you get to the stage that you can no longer understand your fellow man you have obviously been brainwashed. And you know something... not only is it OK, it is preferable. Later over Sunday morning breakfast, the cost of getting a lift to work (a price paid happily because it is still taking 2 hours to get there due to bridges being out), one smiled at Him sweetly and said damn you are a lucky man... that could have been your life.