one for the team

I fell asleep to the sound of Mr. D snoring softly next to me, his back to me, my hand on his side. I woke up rested, yet I wanted to keep sleeping. Really I wanted to cuddle up next to him and feel his strong arms around my cold body. I wanted to stay in bed with him all morning.

I didn’t expect to see him again before Thursday, but all day yesterday I thought about spending the night with him. Thursday would have to be quick – long enough to give him the key and instructions for the pups and get the hard drive with the second season of Damages from him. So when he called last night and asked what I was doing – what else would I be doing but trying to finish season 1?! – I was glad he wanted to come over.

He sat at the dining room table while I lied on the couch watching four episodes of the show he got me addicted to. When Moxie heard a dog bark on the show she started barking back. “Oh shut up!” He yelled toward the kitchen where my babies had been sleeping soundly in their cages until the dog on tv barked. Then he laughed. “And this is the person you’re trusting to take care of them while you’re gone?”

“Exactly what I was just thinking,” I said after turning around and giving him a look.

Mr. Delicious doesn’t really like my pups much. I don’t think he’s ever once petted them. Like for real. He’s not mean to them, he just doesn’t play with them or touch them ever. Ok and sometimes he tells them to shut up, but I really think he does it for my reaction just as much as hoping they’ll actually listen to him and shut up. And of course because he doesn’t pay them any attention they act up wayyy more when he’s around. I try to tell him that it’s simple, but he just doesn’t listen to me. Stupid man.

The alarm on the new blackberry Mr. D gave me last night started going off at 6:30, meaning I had to get up and go to the living room where it was charging to turn it off. It also meant that it woke up the dogs, who immediately started barking upon hearing their favorite person (ME, duh) come out of the bedroom presumably to take them outside. Imagine how pissed they were when I retreated back to the bed for 15 minutes more sleep next to my Mr. D.

I walked them, then immediately put them back in their cages so I could eat a quick breakfast and shower before waking up the boy in that oh-so-special way. I knew he’d appreciate that little effort, so I showered quickly, put on a tank top and some panties and returned to the bed. I remembered the time last year that I’d had my period so instead of having sex I’d just given him head and a few days later he told me that I didn’t have to do that just because I was on my period. He didn’t expect anything. I like that, and that’s why I wanted to make sure he knew this morning just how badly I wanted him. How desirable he is to me. That I can initiate it even when there’s nothing in it for me.

He woke up as I walked in and told me that he hadn’t slept as well as he usually does in the sea of pink and white. I lied on my stomach with my hand on his, looking at him. “I don’t know what was wrong last night, but I slept like shit. And the sea of pink and white is ¾ of the reason I come over here.” He looked for my reaction to that as he snickered and I slapped his stomach where my hand had been caressing.

“Jackass. And what’s the other 25%?”

“The cupcakes, of course.” He laughed again. “You know I’m kidding.”

“I hate you.” I tell him this at least 5 times a day – generally while he’s laughing at something funny he’s said at my expense. He knows I don’t mean it. Last night while we were watching Damages one of the girls told a dude she hated him (and meant it) while eating Chinese takeout with him. Mr. D said that it is obvious I really don’t hate him since we’ve never had Chinese takeout. He makes me laugh. And I hate him.

I hate him so much that I flicked my tongue across his nipple and grabbed his hard dick right after saying it. He laughed when he saw me smile. “That made you happy, huh?”

“kinda.”

I pushed the blankets down and went to town until my jaw hurt and I told him I was taking a break. “Why are your clothes still on, Barista?”

“Ummm I thought you knew.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t…” Trust me there was nothing in the world I wanted more right then.

“Oh. No, I didn’t know.”

“Dude. Why do you think we didn’t have sex last night?”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I was, but that doesn’t mean anything!” He laughed.

“Will you stand up, please?” Of course he obliged and damn was that so much better like that. I’m generally not a kneeler, but I think I will become one. It was way better for both of us, I’d say. I loved the way he touched my hair, looked down at me, pushed himself deeper into my throat. It was all how it was supposed to be. That is, until the finale when he mis-shot and hit me in the face. Like all over my nose and down the side of my face.

I waited til he was done to bust out laughing, but as soon as he was I looked up at him and we both cracked up. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I think I misjudged.”

“Awesome.”

I didn’t care… at least it didn’t get in my eye.