So I’m a really irritating cold on Day 5. It’s not one of the colds that provides me the sexy husky voice. It’s the kind that makes me wear a snorkel like I m. Last but not least, I’m just good enough to really feel horny.
Anyway, hubby was only marginally effective in fending off the same crud, so we left each other alone to rest and cure while wanting to secretly exchange germs from each orifice.
Tonight we eventually confessed this to each other and nearly punctured the cat up the stairs in our frenzied bedroom scramble.
Problem: I still can’t breathe from my nose while I feel a little better. Heaving your bosom and panting may be quite cute, but tonight my panting seemed more like a rattle of death. Luckily, for this specific play date, the husband did most of the heavy lifting. Even so, I believe I might have dipped a pedicured toe into the breath-playing turbulent waters.
I was known to be an occasional squirter when talking about waters. Well, actually, it’s more like a gush. The thing is, it never occurred while I was WITH somebody, only when I was alone or doing my phone sessions, so it became an urban legend stuff. I don’t really understand if it’s a temporary phenomenon due to The Cold, but let’s just say you’re looking at a collection of rubber sheets right now. And they slept on the bed of the guest. And I have a witness now, lastly.