The one where I get climbed on

Today would normally be Post it Note Tuesday. Then I woke up and went outside to get the paper. The Plain Dealer that should have been out on the front steps. You know the paper that some ass clown was now off reading. Thieves! I will kill you MoFo’s. How dare you steal my Wednesday paper?

Oh wait. These days really do blend together. I had fully expected to do some. I even scribbled some down on actual post it notes last night. I had about 6 of them written in my autistic chicken scratch. Yes I meant to post some-a few whining/ranting about writing. Something happened late last night/early this morning that changed that.

The wife and I made the whoopee—I know you have two questions right now.

Made “the whoopee”?


Do I think it’s Thursday and so I’m busting out a tmi post?

Yeah I don’t really have an explanation for “the whoopee.” I guess it was to soften the blow of telling you we had sex. I now it is Tuesday and I know it’s not Thursday because I haven’t read the Wednesday paper yet. No more questions and turn that camera off!

Anypapertellsmewhatdayitis this post is what happened after the squeaking bed action. The fun finished about 1:45am or so. I’ll spare you the start time of the sexy shenanigans. Flash forward to sometime after 4 am. I woke up from a weird dream that started me thinking about the play I’m trying to fix. As I lay there thinking to myself about plots and characters weirdness happened.

First our kitty Rasputin who was sleeping above the wife’s head on her pillow began to stir. He got up meowed at me and pushed his head into my hands. After maybe a minute of petting him by my side he decided to crawl over me. As he did his nail grazed my leg and he slipped trying to get over me. Finally he paused for a second on my stomach and then slowly slipped off the bed to the floor and out the bedroom.

It was about this time that my wife began to stir in her sleep. I don’t know what happens to her when she sleeps but she seems to be disturbed a lot. She sort of groaned in her sleep and I rubbed my hand over her head and in her hair. I always feel that maybe I can comfort her quietly and softly and it’ll help her. Sometimes this appears to work and sometimes it appears to trigger her talking/moving in her sleep. I dunno. I just feel bad and can’t help but attempt to comfort her.

Anyschmoop she sat up and mumbled something. I rubbed her leg and told her to lie back down. Next thing I know she’s trying to climb over me. I’m all “finally she’s gonna sleep sex!” Oh that joke is so wrong. Then bam right into my leg goes her toe nail. She hovers over me on my stomach and I tell her to go back to real sleep. She says something about following Rasputin and then slides off of me onto the floor. She stands in the bedroom doorway for a second. Our kitty comes back in climbs on me and plops down by my feet. Then the wifey turns around says something I don’t understand and then climbs over me. She stops on me again says she’s stuck and sort of laughs before climbing off me and back to her side of the bed. Then she goes right back to sleeping normally and peacefully. As she is getting ready for work she half remembers it and asks if she climbed on me.

I of course ponder telling her that she forced me to have sex with her as she rode me.

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3 Responses to The one where I get climbed on

  1. LA Cochran says:

    There’s a pussy joke in there somewhere.

  2. carissa says:

    haha. What is our significant others and their crazy sleep patterns. I think that the next time the boyfriend starts talking crazily in his sleep I’m going to prove sleep sex.

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