NSFW (mildly)
As I recline here in bed, doing my best to focus on writing, I’m pleasantly surprised that I’ve been joined by my Preacher Man (PM). Or perhaps not so surprised as all that. I had been writing on the couch in our living room when PM put the television on for Three (which I’m henceforth calling our youngest child), causing me to flee to our bedroom for the quiet. But with One and Two — our oldest and middle children — happily ensconced at a friend’s house for the early evening, and Three now plugged-in for a show, it’s an opportunity for “alone time” that we very rarely pass up. (With three children under the age of 10, how can we?!)
“I’m writing,” I tell him, as he runs his nose along the sensitive skin under my ear. “Don’t let me bother you then,” is his reply, which is followed immediately by a dark chuckle as I quickly shuck my clothes and slip under the covers. (When PM’s in the mood to give me some sexy attention, I’ve made it a general life rule that everything else will keep.) A quick last note jotted down so I can hopefully pick up where I left off, and I’m putty in his skilled hands. And that mouth of his, and that raspy beard — Christ Almighty. They return to work their magic on my jaw and neck before migrating to the nearest breast. Grazing teeth tease as his hand migrates down my abdomen. His mouth works up to a bite and pull, moving in tandem with thrusting fingers and a wicked thumb. (Essays could be written on this man’s thumb!) My legs begin to tremble from the tension, and I need this desperately. He allows my fingers to join his to help get me to the finish line. (If PM was ever threatened or insecure about me taking an active role in getting myself off while we’re together, he’s long since let it go. After all, it’s really not about him, is it?) I move my fingers in a familiar pattern and find my rhythm, all while his talented fingers continue to thrust and curl and do their worst (and by worst, I mean, see me straight to heaven). I know he can tell I’m oh so close because he pinches my nipple hard, sending me over the edge. After I’m left boneless and breathless, I get a quick peck on the lips before I’m left alone again to try to recapture my last train of thought. Yup. That is indeed how we play it around here.
So where was I? I look at what I got down on paper before my happy interruption… But then I’m pulled away again, distraction this time in the form of Three, whom I can now hear grousing at PM about getting into the bath and demanding my presence forthwith. Writing will have to wait *shrugs*. This, my friends, is my sexy, messy (quite literally, if you were to peek into my living room) life.
Until next time, stay kinky 😉
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