6 Things She Was Thinking During Sex, What He did to Make it Stop!
I’m attempting a technique called The Pepper Grinder on my husband.
It’s 9 a.m. on Monday morning, which is one of the few times we can have sex because our children are not in the house, but it really eats into my work time, man.
This is what I’m thinking as I try to efficiently complete this sexual task.
I’ve got to write a post on this blog and I have nothing to say because even I am sick of reading about vaginas.
I have to write a post on my relationship blog that will change people’s lives and end dysfunctional family systems forever because otherwise I suck.
I have to write three pages on my novel even though I’m sick of my heroine who wears bi-focals and pees in her pants when she’s anxious.
I have to learn more about the Syrian refugee crisis so I don’t go to the refugee camp equipped only with my first-world privilege and blonde hair. And what kind of shoes does one wear to a refugee camp anyway and do I need to take a fanny pack?
I have to weigh myself to see if the bowl of Talenti peanut butter and salted caramel ice cream I ate last night at midnight fucked me.
I have to work on my self loathing. What the heck is wrong with you Shannon? Why don’t you love yourself, you dildo brain?
And as my brow furrows with the intense concentration that is required during self-castigation, suddenly my husband bursts into laughter.
I look up from my Pepper Grinding, which I realize I may have been doing just a tad overzealously while fixating on all the shit I have to do.
“Uh oh, am I doing it wrong?”
Through his laughter he replies, “No, it’s just the look on your face.”
“The look on my face?”
“You look like you’re doing a distasteful task, like pulling hair out of a drain.”
Now we’re both laughing. Hard.
I fall onto his chest and just feeling the laughter coming out of there makes me laugh harder. We are rolling on the bed. Now I’m snorting like a feral pig.
And he’s so kind and patient with me. Loving me more than I love myself. Even when I’m strangling his manhood while treating it like a device that puts ground pepper on your chicken caesar salad.
After the laughter I’m out of my head, my generalized miasma of self-loathing abates, I’m in my body, in the moment and what happens next is sweet. xoxoxo S
Sometimes levity is what women want in bed.
If these inappropriate, TMI stories make your day a bit lighter you’ll love my latest book, “Married Sex: Fact & Fiction.” It’s HERE.