Monday, February 14, 2011

The best laid plans

We had plans for Valentine’s Day... a rare thing because the cosmos has a tendency to fuck with them at every opportunity. The plan was a simple one; gym, shower, a little light lunch, sexy lingerie (you know stuff without instructions on it), great sex and settle down and watch a movie (Chasing Amy for old time’s sake), probably a little more sex and some sleep. That was the plan. Of course the reality looked way different... more like a reflection in a crazy mirror.

Staggering out in the morning one realised that the place looked like a bomb site... yesterday was wiped out due to a migraine and everything had been dumped everywhere. First one had to do a quick tidy up of the bench to make enough room to make coffee... never a good start to a day. Both of the portable fans packed it in. They have worked just fine for the last 20 years they choose the most humid moment to go heck no. Have you any idea how hard it is to find a fan at this time of the year, particularly after flooding?

It turned into the fan equivalency of a man hunt that He got to do while one was at the gym (now running late might one add). We get home to find an email from His old school chum who is leaving the state and will be in the area... can we do coffee? He writes back, while one makes a quick late lunch, in the hope that it will be too late. His friend, being the spontaneous type, turns up as one is trying to find the couch under the clean laundry that was dumped on it.

We shovel him out the door and go out for coffee. Despite his protestations that we have been to his place and know that he is the worst housekeeper. He might be the worst, but his place usually has the basics for a meal... we had two steaks picked up hastily after the gym. And no sugar because we don’t use it... the friend likes sugar in his coffee.... lots of it.

Crawling home, His asthma playing up from all the talking, our dreams shattered by time constraints, we settle for sex. We are a practical couple. So there one is, on the knees, lubed up and something very large is shoved up the arse. Um what is that? A toy is the smug answer. Yes get that... which one? Does it matter? As it is burning like fuck... yes. It’s one of the black ones. You mean one of the ones that there was that rather bad burning sensation with the last time we tried it? Yes, but I thought we should try it just in case it was a one off thing. Well would you mind pulling it out... the burn is getting rather bad.

He removes it and replaces it with Himself... no need to waste a perfectly nice stretched opening. Besides you want to makes sure whatever allergen is causing the burn gets to as many nerve endings as possible... don’t you? He came with a satisfied grunt and the other one of us repaired to the bathroom to get rid of the sensation anyway one could. The body also assisted anyway it could... brutally efficient cramps as it worked on expelling the irritant. It is now swollen closed and has hung a do not disturb sign on the entrance... which is unfortunate because one suspects the body will not respect its hard limit L

So happy sodding Valentine’s Day gentle readers... and you can stop laughing now. Oh and for those of you who enjoy figging... what the hell is wrong with you people?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I can't...stop laughing that is.

MsSparkles said...

Figging is one of N's most dreaded activities. The horror even the word elicits is quite something.

MsSparkles said...

Ha! With perfect timing the security word just now was 'probed'