If you’ve been reading this blog for a while you know Wes and I don’t sleep together at night. What can I say? The man is a restless sleeper and snores loud enough to wake the dead. I’m a heavy sleeper IF my sleep isn’t tormented by a man who flips from side to side all night long and sucks paint off the walls with his snoring.

Yes, I do wear earplugs when we travel, and we’re forced to sleep in the same hotel room. But when we’re at home I sleep on an LL Bean cot in my office, which is sooooo comfortable.

Thus, the need for our sex dates on Sunday afternoons. And why we have sex all over the house during the week. So if you didn’t already know, now you do.

Kinda blows that marriage myth all to hell, doesn’t it? Ya know, the one that says if you don’t sleep together at night it’ll hurt your sex life. Not. *sex-obsessed grin*

Anyway, before I go to bed every night I stop by the bedroom to give Wes a goodnight kiss (or 2 or 3 or…). And he’s usually waiting up for me, reading the latest mystery novel or thriller.

On Tuesday night I came in after 11:00 and hopped in bed next to him. Okay, I’m a night person, and my battery doesn’t run down until well after midnight.

“Argh,” Wes grunts when I plop down beside him. “Do you always have to bounce on the bed when you sit down.”

“Yeah,” I respond, grinning like the delusional 18-year old I think I am. “It’s fun!”

“I hate this bed,” he complains. “I always feel like I’m sliding off the edge.”

Wes has complained about our Sleep-Number bed since the day we got it. But I love it. I make my side as soft as a waterbed (30). When I take a break and crash on it with the kitties to read, it’s like lying on a cloud. Perfect!

“My side doesn’t feel like that at all,” I say, waiting for him to look away so I can go for his cock. He does, and I do.

“Quit that!” Wes exclaims. “Calm down. You’re not supposed to have this much energy at night.”

“Really?” Then I dive for his cock again, and he wrestles me to the mattress.

“Quit!” But he’s laughing, while he keeps one eye on me and crawls over to my side of the bed to test it out.

I just smile innocently and plan my next attack.

“Hey,” he says, “your side is level. Stretch out on my side, and you’ll see why I hate this bed.”

I do, and I immediately slide toward the middle. Sure enough, his side has a sharp slope to it.

“Wow, you’re right,” I say, realizing I’ve rolled up against his back. Works for me! So I wrap my arms around him and grab his cock again.

“Stop that!” he shouts. “Try to be serious.”

Serious? What’s that? *delusional grin*

“I still don’t see what the problem is,” I say. “Whenever you fuck me missionary style I lie in this hole in the middle of the bed, and it feels great. Try it.”

“I’d rather stick my dick on your hole,” he replies, grinning like the Alpha Impaler that he is.

“Alrightyyyyy!” I exclaim. “Let’s do it!” Then I go for his cock again.

But he’s too fast for me. And he’s stronger. In like two seconds he flips me on my back and hovers over me, pinning my arms over my head.

Kinky!!!

“No,” Wes replies, licking my neck. “You have too much energy for this late at night. And I have to get up and drive to Charleston tomorrow.”

“I’m not seeing a problem with this,” I insist, giggling as his long blonde hair tickles my collarbone.

“You wouldn’t,” he replies. “But I’m too old to do both.”

“Remind me NEVER to be 57 and too old to fuck,” I reply, laughing. I manage to work one hand loose from his grip and go for his dick again.

He tackles me, and the next thing I know I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. How did he do that? I swear the man is too strong for his own good. Actually, he’s too strong for my good. Bummer!

“Go away,” he says, giving me a quick peck on the lips and then pushing me off the edge of the bed. “Go to sleep like a normal person.”

“So,” I say, standing up. “Are you gonna sleep in the hole tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replies, moving toward the center of the bed until he falls into the crater in the middle of it.

“But what about my hole?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows while I hand him his lip balm. “Ya know, my wet, hot, neeeeeeeeedy hole.”

“Your hole can wait,” he replies, switching off the lamp. “You don’t have to get up and drive to Charleston tomorrow.”

True.

But that doesn’t mean my hole wouldn’t like a certain Alpha Impaler to drive his hard dick into it over and over and over and….

Oh, well.

As another Southern Belle once said: Tomorrow is another day. Yes, it is!! *wicked grin*

xoxo
Laura Stamps ©
The Magickal Sex Goddess
Author of Paranormal Erotica & Romance Novels
(Witches, Shapeshifters, Vampires)
laura@laurastamps.com
To read excerpts from my novels:
http://www.LauraStamps.blogspot.com
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http://www.LauraStamps.com
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This entry was posted on Friday, December 18th, 2009 at 9:00 am and is filed under Naughty Notes, Women. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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