The Little Things in Life

One of the things which never ceases to amaze me about TTWD is how far we have come with our communication skills.

Mostly it is how much better Dan has become at reading me. His antennae seem to have doubled their length, and  they've certainly increased their ability to interpret my often complex signals.

Mostly we've been coasting along reasonably in step, with just the occasional high and low to stem the slide into boredom and lethargy. 

I'm usually allowed to choose my own implements when Dan decides it's time to issue reminders, though for the sexier types of spankings I much prefer the Rose Paddle despite the fact that Dan does get a bit carried away when using it. He did remark that I have now managed to perfect my front crawl 

and that he almost sees my bottom pass from right to left across his lap whilst he is busy trying to hit the target. 

I tell him that he is so good at hitting the target these days, ie the same spot for about ten spanks, that it feels like someone has placed a magnifying glass between the sun and my bottom, making it feel as if that spot is about to spontaneously combust. But when I complain, he immediately peppers the entire area with the rapid fire. So now I tend to slither forwards more surreptitiously until his arm brings me to rapid halt.

I wonder if you all wake up in a good mood every morning? Sadly I do not. I have a tendency when feeling the pressure, to wake up around 2.30 in the morning and lie with multitudinous thoughts going through my head till around 4.00 when I either get up and go walk about, or finally manage to drop back off to sleep. 

Dan rarely wakes, and I try not to wake him, but sometimes when he is snoring loud enough to wake the dead, 

I feel obliged to toss and turn, reach for my glass and drink some water, press the little button on my bedside clock to check the time, 

get up to visit the loo, put my bedsocks on if my feet are cold, 

take my bedsocks off if my feet are too hot, get up and adjust the curtains to prevent any moonlight from lighting up the bedroom....you get the picture?

The other night was one such night. I was wakened at around 2.15 by a mouse in clogs galloping about in the wall to the right of our bed. It sounded as if it were moving concrete blocks. No little sounds of pittering and pattering from the mice in our part of the world - they're heavyweights!

So I lay around a bit hoping to drop back to sleep, but eventually, having completed the entire list above and then some, Dan woke up and asked me if I was okay. I snarled a bit, then suggested he go back to sleep and I promised to try to lie still. I was remembering someone (or maybe a couple of someones) who suggested one of you rubbed the other person, but at 3 in the morning I couldn't quite remember the rules, and luckily, just trying to remember sent me off to sleep.

But then comes the bit in the morning when your eyelids feel they have lead weights attached to them, and all you want to do is snuggle back in your pillow, pull the duvet up around your eyebrows, and slumber happily regardless of the day ahead.

This, of course, is the time I feel Dan breathing somewhere in the vicinity of my neck and patting my bottom encouragingly. I make the noise a sleepy squirrel makes 

and burrow down once again. Dan gets more persistent and tweaks a nipple. This time I give a low growl to try to put him off.

Dan is stubborn. He refuses to be put off anything, and before he was startled into becoming more familiar with my bottom, he was one heck of a boob man. Lying half hidden in my bosoms he gives a sigh of contentment and carries on tweaking - both nipples this time.

I do not rise to the bait. I am still trying to sleep. 

Even my body has gone into non-responsive mode. Dan raises his head and mutters something about not even being able to feel the smallest shiver of pleasure. I nod into my pillow in agreement.

But that man is nothing if not persistent, 

and will not be deterred. He grabs me around the middle and launches an all out assault on my person.

This time I squeak a little, so he ups the tempo. 

He spanks first one cheek then the other at a rapid rate - too high as usual - but I start to bounce on the bed like a kettle drum. I am now waking up and feeling rather like a squashed slug getting its bottom spanked.

He will keep spanking the same spot and his hand is so much harder these days. I count ten and shriek at him. He ignores me for a few more spanks then mercifully moves to the other cheek, where naturally, the action is repeated.

Then the strangest thing. My libido returns with a vengeance. The "Me Tarzan, You Jane" syndrome almost takes my cells apart and rebuilds them. 

I can't remember exactly what I was yelling, but I can relate that it led to an extremely vociferous and active session of love-making. 

At one point I thought that maybe at my age I shouldn't be making such a racket, but then I thought "Nah.These opportunities should not be ignored."

The bed was trashed and the whole area looked like a hurricane had hit. 

I was heartily glad that our grown offspring have no idea just how much in love and how energetic their parents still are. In my mind, I wish them equally long and happy marriages, and hope they are still as energetic when they get to our age. Snigger!

Dan went and got us hot drinks. I was lying stretched out face down when he went off downstairs, and I was still lying in the same position when he returned.

"Are you alive?" he enquired.

"Mmphm" I replied (in the manner of 'Outlander' - I am now on Book 3!)

"Drink your coffee before it gets cold." Ha! Now he knows how I feel!

I continued to lie there whilst we had a conversation. 

"That was so wonderful. I wish you would spank me more often like that. I would love you to spank more, and harder."

"Your trouble is that you've got the hide of an armadillo."

This makes me sit up in a hurry and I glare at him indignantly to see if he is serious or not. Luckily for him he's not.

"I don't mind, you know, if you grab me and administer a few more 'good  girl' spankings of this calibre."

Dan raises his eyebrows. "I don't want you to accuse me of being abusive."

"Oh for goodness sake. I thought we had laid this one to rest a long time ago."

"You know what I mean. And anyway, isn't this called 'trying to take control'?"

"Nah. Just giving you a few pointers. You know jolly well that you won't do anything you don't want to do."

"Very true." Dan gives me his practised 'evil grin'.

Then we are up and on our way down to have some breakfast before showering. 

As I walk ahead of him along the corridor he starts to stroke my bare bottom making me giggle. Dan knows exactly how to lure me out of my vegetative state of mind. 

(I couldn't find a picture of a man stroking a naked woman's bottom, so I substituted this picture - it's so sweet and it's how he makes me feel. He strokes my bottom every night when he comes to bed!)

It's the little things in life that are important.