This morning I awake as normal, hitting the snooze alarm for the very last time. I turn over onto my side, blinking and yawning. As I begin to stretch my arms I notice something on my arm….EWWW! A bug! Nope. Not a bug. Some kind of black mark or stain…what the…?
Oh christ on a cracker.
My groom has inked a flaming heart with his name underneath, onto my bicep, in lovely, semi-permanent black pen ink.
Silly fucker. I can’t fall asleep on the couch safely anymore.
Oi vey. I gotta get him something to do.
His days off work are Wednesdays and Thursdays, so meanwhile I bust my hump all damned day and usually he does next to nothing while I’m gone.
Tonight I come home to find him near comatose, lying in a heap on the couch (I give him points today though, as he is fully dressed and appears to have bathed).
I sit down next to him and look at him wearily. After complaining to him about his not-so-clever attempt at a phony tattoo, he laughs heartily and nuzzles my neck, then looks up with his puppy dog “will you forgive me?” pout. Before I can even acknowledge this look, he turns to me with a smirk on his face and says, “So are you gonna make some spaghetti or gimme a blowjob?”
Well I never! I could only laugh at his silly ass, ’cause he knows better. In fact he raised a hand protectively near his face ’cause he KNEW he was cruisin’ for a bruisin’!
I love my hunny bunny.
Same day, different year..
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