> Adventures in Dating
> Things that go bump and grind in the night
Things that go bump and grind in the night
Yesterday morning I woke up to a slightly grumpy Jen. Since we’d gone to bed in a great mood and I’d slept well I couldn’t imagine what might be up.
Far from a relaxing night sleep, it turns out that she’d had something of an emotional and sexual ordeal. After nearly asphyxiating from laughter I insisted that she write down the full account, for science, obviously. Here it is, in her own words:
- I had epic troubles sleeping last night. I very rarely have trouble sleeping, usually it’s me happily snoring away whilst you have a long hard think about your life and your own boiling resentment at my happy snoozings.
- Snuggling up I felt a massive rush of love, and also how grumpy I was about you being all warm and asleep.
- Then I thought about what it would be like if I didn’t have you. How my life might be if you weren’t in it, how empty and lonely I would be compared to how I feel now.
- And I started to think what it would be like if you DIED.
- I indulged this as sometimes having a good cry is cathartic and helps me go to sleep easily. I’m fully aware this *may* mean I am mad.
- I then thought about ways you might die – and how upsetting it would be, the MOST upsetting was if you got stuck in some sort of rotary machinery doing some of your outdoor work, and how if they moved the bit of the machine (this was some sort of combine harvester in my imaginings) you would insta-die and what I would say to you if I had the ability to be there at your final moments. With hindsight, I am watching WAY too much ‘Grey’s Anatomy’.
- I got very upset thinking about your funeral, working myself up into such a state that I imagined what I might say to the, doubtless, many hundreds of people in attendance.
- I then promised you, in your sleep, that I would always remember to feed the birds.
- This was the final emotional straw and I burst into waves of racking sobs eventually calming down to the point where I started to drift off.
- It was lovely, I was warm, dozy, blissfully hollowed out by upsetting myself so much. It was a matter of seconds before I was into the cradling arms of oblivion.
- THEN you shifted in your sleep, muttering something very rude about cocks in general, your cock, and where you were going to put it.
- You grabbed my back bottom, making me jump about 14 foot of the bed in the process and started to, one can only describe it as ‘rut’ your entire hand INTO the crevice.
- You did this for about a minute with me alternating between amused, annoyed and then, like the proverbial abuse victim, resigned.
- You left your hand there after turning away.
- I lay, once again, wide eyed and confused. My back bottom felt the same way.
So apparently I am a closet sex criminal and Jen is lulled to sleep by thoughts of the tragedy of my death. Mental. Mental but bloody brilliant.
Marriage percentage: 93%
Does anyone else do this?
Categories: Adventures in Dating
back bottom, birds, Biscuit, Grey's Anatomy, insomnia, Jen, love, marriage, mental, sex crime, sleep