The Thief, part 7

She lay on the bed crying quietly. She wasn’t sobbing, but slow hot tears trickled from her eyes, slid across her cheek to be absorbed by the pillow under her head.

She lay on her left side, and He, the Bastard, lay behind her, spooning her. His leg was between hers, possessively hooked around her lower leg. One strong arm lay under her neck, and the other curled over her side, and lay passively, pinned between her full breasts.

She breathed in and out slowly, trying to dismiss the burning ache in her right butt cheek where a new tattoo was beginning to heal. Trying to dismiss the burning ache in her chest that she’d been well and truly caught. She, who relished freedom, snared. She tried to look on the bright side. She wasn’t in prison, and the Bastard certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. Despite the bondage, the whipping, the sheer implacable will of his demands on her, she enjoyed him sexually. Like she’d never enjoyed sex before. She tried not to think that this was the missing ingredient in her sex life. Tried not to think about how hot and wet her cunt grew at the thought of his hands slapping her tits, whipping her ass.  She felt slickery moisture begin to seep, and even as she noted it, her tears began to dry.

And He began to wake. His stiffening cock began to poke at her ass crack. She moaned, just a little. Even she didn’t know if it was lust or annoyance. Annoyance. Had to be.
“No, you Bastard!” she hissed, as his hands came to palm and mold her breasts, pulling and twisting her nipples.

He ignored her.

“NO! you BASTARD!!” she hissed louder as he continued fondling and teasing her tits, milking her nipples.

He released one tit, slid the palm of his hand over her abused ass. Rubbed none to gently over the fresh tat.

“Owwww” she moaned, pulling away.

He pulled her back, reclaiming her tit.

“Mine. Remember that.” He said quietly into her ear, even as he eased his cock into her cunt from behind. He fucked her slowly, easily. It may have gone on for hours, days, weeks. A slow, steady in-and-out until without warning, she arched her back and moaned. She began thrusting  backwards impaling herself deeper on his cock.

In the darkness above her head, he smiled. He was a bastard. Proud of it, too, truth be told. And she was definitely his. Hell of a package. Better than diamonds, more fun than a girlfriend. She had spunk, creativity, and a fucking fine ass. Or was that a fine ass for fucking. Both. Yeah.

He pushing a bit harder, as she continued pushing back into him. The squelching wetness of her grasping, greedy cunt welcomed his hardness. The soft folds of her body opened for him, the slickness gilded his cock, allowing him safe passage into her hot harbor.

When they exploded, it was nearly synchronous, twin moans, twin geysers of hot juices  mingling. As his cock slowly subsided, he kept his hips pushed into her ass, keeping him nested inside of her for as long as possible.

They slept.

Mercy

today is nilla’s birthday (okay, throw confetti!)! I’m 51 happy years old, a “new” woman, in a contorted life.! this then, is for Sir, the bestest present of all!

I am here, up against the wall, at His mercy.

My fingers curl into the palms of my hands,  nervous. I feel the weight of the heavy cold metal locked around my wrists, touching the small of my back, and i shiver. Surely it’s only the cold metal?

I can’t hear Him, see Him. Blindfold and ear buds this time. I can’t run, the heels He so admires on my feet making me taller than ever before. But who can run in 6 inch stiletto’s anyway?  I am totally at His mercy.

Mercy.

From a sadist.

Yeah. Right.

There is no time in this dark world. Nor quiet, as Beethoven’s 5th pours into my ears. I wonder if the composer ever envisioned his music would set the stage for this kind of a date.  A date  i have come to, a willing participant. No…an eager participant.  And still there is nothing.

I am unused to being observed. Stared at as an object of lustful intent. I feel him. He watches me, and the weight of his gaze makes me squirm. Again i test the cuffs. Shift my stance a bit. 

His foot grazes mine. He’s that close! My heart rate triples in nanosecond! A sweat forms on me, despite the chill of the room. We both like it cool, but now i’m suddenly supernova hot. I smell my arousal…and know he does, too. His foot pushes mine. Pushes my legs further apart. And more. And more. 

My pussy will leak directly on the floor now, not slide quietly down my legs. I feel a flush of embarrassment at the thought of this. He knows how wet i am. Sometimes i giggle on the phone to him about how wet he makes me. And he knows. i feel the embarrassed flush run up my neck, down my tits.

I tingle, thinking about the obviousness of my arousal. I shiver, thinking about his eyes drinking me in, long before his mouth will. Anticipation grows. When? When? What will He do to me first?

Then his large hands are there. Two hands, two tits. Nipples rise and beg for attention, but he’s already there, pinching, pulling twisting me into knots of pleasure and pain.

As the crescendo of the music swells in my ears, my breasts swell into his palms. I moan and slide into this lust-dance, into him.

At his mercy.

Opinon, Please?

Wifey: I found one of those horrible books you like at the library and got it for you.
nilla: that’s a terrible thing to say. If you don’t like the book, don’t touch it, if it offends you. Or just say, “here’s one of those books i know you like”. You don’t have to editorialize or make it such a sacrifice to have brought it to me.
Wifey: Hey, I was doing something nice for you! Don’t get all pissy about it.
nilla: i’m not pissy…You hurt my feelings, and you didn;t need to say that. . . sometimes you are very much like your mother…you give with one hand and hit with the other.
Wifey: you don’t have to be so rude/hurtful yourself. I’m not like my mother, i was simply stating my opinion. From now on I’ll never again tell you my opinon…
nilla (interrupting) …no, no i’m not saying that, and you know that. I’m simply saying you didn’t need to editorialize your comment to me.
Wifey: huffy voice. I am not like my mother. You are over sensitive.

So, dear readers, was nilla oversensative? I’m trying to be an effective communicator. I feel i was. Maybe i was bitchy, though i tried very hard to be moderate in my voice tone, and calm in responding to her.

Chime in…i really want to know your opinion.

ps…read on for today’s story…i just needed to add this “vent”….

Dr.Corer

Cat looked forward to her annual visit to the OB/Gyn office with the same jollity reserved for funerals and job reduction meetings. Yet, every year, being a woman who believed that one needed to tend to one’s health, she did it anyway.

As she entered the new building for the first time, she was struck by the beauty of it. Set away from the main part of the city, the front façade, done in a pale blushing pink, resembled the opening petals of a flower. No. Wait. She backed up from the door. Looked carefully.

Laughed.

Oh. My. Gawd. The Practice must be doing very well to have engineered a building that looked like…a vulva. Just there, where the doors opened, if one looked carefully, you could see that you were walking into …the vaginal channel.

Well, perhaps this visit would be better than she thought, she smiled to herself. The waiting room was faintly rounded, and a deeper rose, suggesting the inner sanctum of the womb. Again, she grinned. Thumbed absently through a magazine on childbirth, and gazed around the room. Sipped from the spring water she’d been given when she registered. A feeling of serenity settled over her.

When her name was called, she was ushered down another corridor. No white  walls, not cacophony. Calm, peace, serenity. And the nurses were hot. Different sizes, different colors, but all nicely turned out. And quite friendly.

Anna, her PA, stayed with her while she undressed. Helped unclasp her bra, and rubbed at the red mark around her back from the strap.

“You know, ” Anna stated calmly, rubbing gently from the back to the underside of her breast, ” wearing a bra too tight is very bad for you. The lymph nodes can’t properly drain. Dr. C is a big fan of going au naturale!” Briefly Anna’s hand left Cat’s body to stroke down her own full breast. Her nipple rose quickly at the light touch, drawing Cat’s eye, and a smile from them both. Again the calm and peace of the place settled on her, and Cat felt her hand rise without conscious thought and she pinched the full nipple in front of her, eliciting a soft ‘aaahhh’ from the PA. 

When the Dr. rapped softly on the door, he smiled to see his Anna massaging his newest patients tits, and being massaged in return.

“Welcome, Catherine, I see you are enjoying our new amenities…”

Cat pulled her hand away with a start! What had come over her? She wasn’t drawn to women per se, though she always admired a nice chest…’did that show latent homosexual tendencies?’ she wondered, fleetingly. Her attention was drawn back to the doctor.  The physicians assistant helped her up onto the exam table. The legs, unlike the old style cold metal stirrups, were well padded, and covered with soft, removable fabric. Her legs were strapped on, and she made herself as comfortable as she could.

She felt the doctor’s hands on her hips, pulling her to the edge of the table.

“nervous” she heard him murmur to the PA. “See what you can do to ease her a bit, please.”

She felt the PA between her legs, then a warm, wet sensation. LICKING! She was being licked on her pussy! Oh MY GAWD!!

As the tongue sought her channel, drilling into her most intimate hole, Cat felt her legs relaxing, opening more. She saw Dr. Corer spread the wings open further, and screw it down, tight. She was widely open, and the lapping tongue was stirring delicious feelings. When she felt her clit sucked between Anna’s teeth she nearly came off the table. A long groan came from somewhere deep in her chest. She felt a hand on her tit, and saw Dr. Corer squeezing and palming her.

He smiled down at her.

“This may pinch a bit,” he said, as he pinched her nipple to firmness. Cat was delirious with the pleasure happening between her legs, her orgasm building. The PA seemed to sense each time she was near the crest and would back off a bit, lapping and laving at her outer lips, letting heat die back to slow burn.

Her attention returned to her nipples as the doctor fastened a tight clamp on one upthrust bud.

“Hmmm, lovely, beautiful response,” he said clinically as he watched her arch up off the table. His hand pushed her back down, and he reached around and secured a strap around her throat, holding her in place. Another strap held her hand to her side, and before she could reach out, Ana rose from between her legs and secured her other hand. She was securely attached to the table, spread wide open, helpless.

A second clamp went on her other nipple, and she watched him nod to the PA. She felt the tongue on her sex driving her relentlessly to the brink, stabbing and lapping at her hole, at her clit, and even as she watched helplessly as the doctor attached a chain to the clamps, and then to a longer chain suspended from the ceiling, felt the aching pull on her tits, Ana drove her over the edge into a powerful orgasm.

She felt her inner muscles clench and burn with the force of it, felt the liquid pour from her, felt the PA’s busy tongue lapping and lapping. Then Ana was at her mouth, kissing and sharing the fluids from her body. She felt a prod at her cunt, and knew it was Dr. Corer.

He was not gentle, nor slow. He pushed his large, hard shaft deep into her still pulsing pussy, sending her over the edge. Aftershock or another orgasm, it hardly mattered. He was pounding into her, while Ana played with her aching tits. Her nipples were swollen, aching nubs, and every thrust by Dr. Corer pulled the chain tight, pulling her tits harshly. She moaned, she tossed her head, she whimpered.

The PA whispered in her ear that it was okay to scream, all the rooms were soundproofed, and the Doctor really loved to hear it.

She felt his hands on top of her thighs, using them as leverage to push himself deeper into her. She felt his large head butting up against her cervix, felt his length bend just a bit to force every last millimeter inside of her.

His hands slid from her thighs to her tits, and he pulled on them cruelly. She screamed as one clamp pulled off her nipple from the force of his hand. Screamed again as he wrenched the other clamp off.  Tears came as he slapped each tit hard, accompanied by his deep thrusts.

She felt a finger probing her ass. Ana! Nono! Tossing her head, moaning, she tried to push away the invading finger, but the Doctors large cock pushing in, the pain in her tits, the deep tingle that was forming deep inside of her. What the ? how could this be turning her on? With a pop, she felt the questing finger begin sliding in and out of her rectum. The combination of sensations sent her pinwheeling over the edge and her orgasm exploded from her.

Body arching up as much as she was able, she tensed every muscle, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream . She felt a flood of juices, felt Doctor Corer pulse once, twice, and his groan let loose a moan of ecstasy from her mouth.

Fluids dripped from her sated body. She dimly heard them spatter on the floor between her open legs, felt her ass hanging off the edge.

As her senses returned, she saw Dr. Corer and Ana looking over her chart. He glanced up at her.

“Well, everything seems to be in order, Catherine. You’re in fine shape. Don’t be embarrassed about the orgasm…you wouldn’t believe how many times it happens during an exam! See you next year.”

With that, he shut her file, handed it to his PA, and left the room.

Later, driving home, cunt throbbing, she wondered, did she imagine the whole thing?

nilla note: i was researching  the word “orgasm” and how it would be said in other languages. Many other cultures don’t have a precise word for the action of orgasm, other than in the sense of “to come” (hence, our “i’m coming or in the vernacular…cumming..) An interesting article in the Nassau Weekly came up on my search engine, and it was quite informative! Corer, by the way, is the Spanish version of orgasm.

And now for something different…

She felt the weight pushing her deeply into the mattress. A hard, hot cock was pulsing between her slightly spread labia, looking for entry. She bucked, trying with a soft moan, to get away, but her arching back opened her even further to the mysterious stranger probing for her warmth.

Her arms were useless. She felt the soreness of muscles held in stasis for longer than comfortable. Her wrists were raw from the zip ties that bound her to the headboard. It was dark, so dark. He was big, heavy. Her breath caught in her throat as he thrust his pelvis forward and began to grind his way into her.

With a forceful push, his large bulbous head popped inside, and she yelped in pain. Too big! Nononononononnono…..a large hand clapped over her mouth, cutting off her yells. The other hand still grabbed her breast, sweaty and hot.

She was groggy, too lethargic to fight much, too scared to resist for fear of more violence.

What was happening? She hadn’t expected this, not at all!

The lingering smell of stale sweat and  urine came to her. Not her apartment, where all was spic n span. She could barely make out a brick wall behind the bed as her eyes rolled around the room in panic. The hand on her mouth relaxed as she quieted, but the stiff cock was pushing deeper, ever deeper.

She squirmed and he thrust and suddenly she was full. His groan of satisfaction came upon hers of pain. He pulsed his hips forward, easing deeper into her tight warmth. She moaned again.

“Shut the fuck up” he growled into her ear.

Then he withdrew. She took a deep breath as he rose to his arms in push up position, as he looked down on her. She stared at him, a butterfly transfixed just before the needle pinned it to the board. Just so, he pinned her to the bed, his cock ramming deeply into her. Her breath drew in fast, but she held the scream inside. His eyes dared her. Dared her to make a noise.

Any noise.

Over and over he withdrew then slammed deeply into her. She felt his cock burning its way into her, pushing, pulling her tender flesh. The pain was intense, she was not ready. But her body knew best, and began to lubricate. With the seeping of her fluid, the banging thrusts became less painful. The friction became warmth instead of fire. She moved her hips, just a bit, and the change in angle drove his cock head into her g-spot for a fraction of a moment, and she arched up and into his stroke.

“Ugnnnn” she panted, lowering to the mattress on his out-stroke.

“mmmmm” he moaned, thrusting hard back into her.

As if he’d lit a match, she began to burn. Rising into his inward thrusts, pelvic tilts, and ass raises pulling him still deeper into her.

A squelching sound filled the room, over the sound of his flesh slapping at hers. She stiffened, groaned, then a high, shrill note erupted as her body convulsed around his shaft. Her orgasm caught them both by surprise, and he rammed his cock deeper, deeper, through her tightening sheath. The clenching of her internal muscles, desperate for his juice, began milking him, and he felt his balls tighten in response.

***********************

Her son was born in the spring.

She read the morning paper as she ate her breakfast. Saw the ad in the classifieds again.

AdventureKid: success on the first try.

Smiled.

Subbie, conclusion

An hour he’d been sitting in the posh hotel lobby. An hour dealing with a painfully hard cock trapped in a sharp-toothed iron cage. A cage that only his Mistress had a key to. A Mistress that was now upstairs, servicing her new Dom.  His cock leapt again at the thought of Meg, tied, fucked. He envied her the strict control Sir had on her already. Sometimes he longed for Her to be stricter on him…and yet he didn’t. It was a confusing myriad of feelings flitting through him.

His blackberry chimed, breaking his thought train.

“Get in the elevator. 7th floor. Room 711. Now.”   The firm tone of Meg’s Sir brooked no argument, not that Mike would have, since the smug bastard had already broken the call. He rose, stiff from the pain in his cock, and worry on his face. Was Meg okay?

The floors ticked by on the elevator. At every stop he tensed, needing to get to Meg. He strode down the corridor to room 11, and knocked on the door.

It opened, slowly. Sir was there, ushering him in. Stopped him in the hallway. Mike tried to peer around him, but this was a suite, and the bedroom door was off to the side, closed. He could see nothing.

“Strip.” The order was again said tersely.

Mike stared at the man in front of him. He was used to dealing with unpleasant, often unsavory people in his job, but this was beyond his realm of experience.

“Do you need help?”  Sir asked, a distinct chill in his tone.

Slowly, wordlessly, Mike began unbuttoning his shirt. There was just something about this man…

His clothes were folded in a neat pile. Naked but for the cage around his cock, he was led to the bedroom. Meg was there…blindfolded, spread eagled, and tied to the four poster bed. There were welts on her breasts and belly and her pussy was red and swollen. There were tear tracks down her cheeks, dark with her mascara. 

Mike threw a glance at Sir. A glare. And received a bland smile in return.

“Service her cunt, slave. In the way she expects from you.”

He went to the bed, climbed up and between Mistresses obscenely splayed legs.  Now, close up, he could see the oozing of juices from her slit. Sir’s cum. Molly’s cum. Mingled.

A shiver ran through him. He was being asked to slurp up their combined juices. Damned if his fucking cock didn’t twitch again and start stiffening. Resolutely, reminding himself that this was his beloved Mistress, he bent his head and began, first lightly licking her outer labia, then pointing his tongue and spearing into the top of her slit, aiming at her clit. She jolted on the bed, a long moan coming from her. Slowly he slid his tongue down her slit, pushing apart her lips with his tongue, allowing more of the juices to slip from her channel.

He made a tube of his tongue and slid it deep into that channel and began to suck as if through a straw. She thrust her pelvis up to his mouth, but he pulled back, delighting in teasing her. She humped at the air a moment before dropping her hips back to the bed. His tongue lapped at her now, slurping up the wetness there, making her moan long and loud.

The sudden slapping sound of leather against skin and Meg’s scream of pain pulled him from the happy world he was visiting between her legs. He looked up and saw Sir, a leather flogger in his hand, slapping again at Meg’s tits.

Sir looked at him. Hard.

“Eat.” He ordered.

Mike went back to work between Mistress’s thighs. He put his mouth around her clit and sucked. Hard. Her hips rose up off the bed, even as he felt her shudder with the pain of her flogged tits.

His tongue dove, his mouth sucked and he worked steadily to Meg’s increasing heat. He could feel her cunt begin to contract around his tongue, knew she was close to her orgasm.

A hand pulled him by the hair, away from the promise of Meg’s glorious juices.

“Mine.” Was all Sir said, and Mike was pushed to the floor where he was ordered to remain, and he watched with longing as Sir slid his hard cock deep into Meg’s needy, wet pussy. He wanted to look away. He tried. But his eyes were drawn to the rhythmic, hard thumping of Sir’s cock in and out of Meg. To Mistress, rising and crying out. The slap of body to body, the scent of man sweat and woman’s arousal.  The sheen of sweat on Sir’s back and Mistress’s torso.  His own cock was a pulsing wound in the cage. Throbbing, begging for release. He was in agony. Watching his Mistress fucked by another. Needing her to release his wounded cock and allow him a brief respite.

And it was over. A violent surging by Sir. Meg screaming as she came. They lay, panting.  Mike shuddered. It was not over for him. Her tits called to him. Her nipples, erect in the aftermath of passion, called to him. He needed Her more than ever before.

He watched as Sir released her from her bondage. Rubbed her arms and legs, kissed her deeply. Told her she was a very good subbie for this first experience.  He helped her stand. Reminding her he had promised her a hand in training her slave ,He handed her the flogger.

“Beat him.”

And so it began.

FFF Penance 179 words

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

I didn’t mean to make a stinky in bed.

Nine times i wrote these lines for You, Sir. Just as You requested. Wrote them on the floor of the bathroom. Just as You requested. Came 9 times just to have enough juice to get the task done. Just as You requested, Sir. Used my talented tongue. Just as You requested, Sir. Penenance served, and duty done, Sir.

Must You take my picture this way? I have told my story, just as You requested, Sir. Now i must put this on my blog? Just as You requested, Sir? I am  chastened and humbled Sir.

Just as You requested.

Sir.

HNT 2/4/10 Imbolc haiku

Imbolc….

(…wherein the light returns)

Paint me with the light

growing stronger every day

sister sun, and i.

 

 

Subbie

for m & M….

His cock twitched.

“Oh christ”  he muttered under his breath. He felt the steel teeth begin their insidious bite into his hardening cock. He tried to think of  things to calm him, taxes to be paid, balloons, *fuck! Why think about anything inflating now?*, little girls on ponies, a dip in a frigid Minnesota lake. But still his cock continued it’s journey to hardness, the turgid head pulsing. How could it not?

There she was, his wife, his Mistress. Walking across the lobby of the hotel, looking so fucking fine. The ruby dress followed every sweet line of her body, hugging tight to her magnificent tits, curving over the twin moons of her ass. An ass that he’d woken up next to this morning, and now was watching as it walked across the room with another man’s hand on it.

Her Dom.

She loved being his Mistress. Controlling his orgasms, his erotic ministrations to her body. She’d never before felt more sexual, more desirable, more worshipped. Knowing that she held the reins in the relationship hand not taken anything away, but instead had deepened their commitment to each other. Enough that she was ready to play some games of her own. 

They weeded through the Dom’s replies together. Talked to several. Well, she did, and then discussed with him, although he was her sub, he was still Mike, still her husband, and neither wanted to damage that relationship. Finally one Dom rose from the rest. He was a late “entry” to her requests, but he was just what she was looking for. He took no bullshit from her. Laid out his rules, his requirements.

They agreed to meet for coffee. That went so well that they met for dinner. Mike and Megan agreed that he would attend as well, though he would not dine with Meg and her Sir. And her Sir was amenable to the idea. They talked earnestly during the meal, although Mike noted that Meg kept her eyes downcast and appeared to follow her Sir’s directives promptly. Sir fed her small tidbits from  his plate, and when she was not eating, she was listening. She nodded, and smiled and appeared…quite happy. At the conclusion of the meal, they kissed. It was deep, long, and passionate. Mike’s cock had gotten hard just watching.  It stirred something in him. What, he was unsure. But he didn’t feel a loss per se, more of a…sharing of needs. It made her gloriously more attractive to him, to know that this man wanted her as he himself did.

Now it was D-day. Sir had arranged all, and before they knew it, they were in Atlanta, at a posh hotel. Their rooms were lavish and beautiful. When Sir came to them in the hotel lobby, he shook Mike’s hand.

“So, you’re the subbie of my subbie?” he asked. Mike listened for disdain but there was none.  Apparently, the guy meant what he’d said…no judgement for other’s sexual needs.

“I’m going to fuck your wife.” This bald statement dropped into the middle of polite chitchat.

“Yes, i know” he replied somewhat meekly.

“And I will tie her up, beat her ass, and fuck that ass if I so choose.”

“Yes, i know” he replied, his voice thickening. Was it sick to feel this lust trickling down his spine? His wife, mother of his children, bound and fucked while he waited in the cocktail lounge, for chrissakes.

Nodding, Sir put his hand on Meg’s ass, and pushed her through the lobby.

D/s Play

I talk to Sir on a daily basis. And texting, mustn’t forget the texting! We have another date planned, but it’s far in the future. Sigh. Still, the daily talks and texts help. We’re building trust.

He gives me little assignments to complete. Pushes his control over me so i can feel the weight of his Dom over my very subby head. No “O’ tonight nilla. (nilla pouts. pussy pouts. Sir laughs.)

I have done a few writing assignments, some published, some just for  Him.

Yesterday, as we’re about to wrap up another long phone call,  he says to me, “nilla, I want you to think about one more thing.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“spreader bar”

i wish you could hear the tone of his voice. Steel wrapped in velvet. A dash of humor. I can hear his smile through the phone as i sit in my car, speechless. I know!  nilla, speechless, again. Who wouldathunkit?

That was Saturday. The day i’d published the Thief part whatever…that featured…a spreader bar.

Which i know Sir had not read yet.

Psychic. (nilla nods) The Man is a psychic genius.  nilla loves the idea of a spreader bar. Now, sitting the parking lot of Walmart, nilla is smiling, too.

“really Sir??!!”

“um, hummmm” He says in agreement.

“i’m all wet now, Sir”

“oh, like that’s news, nilla!”

So, much later in the day, i’m standing in the pizza shop waiting for the family order. Looking out the window at traffic chugging by,the setting of the sun, mind aimlessly drifting and what pops into my head?

Yeah. “spreader bar“ . It just sort of floats into my head and beams there. So i’m now wet again, smiling to myself (the pizza guy musta thought i was a nutjob…mayhap i am a nutjob.

Later that night, tucked in bed and once more chatting with Sir, he says to me ” so, nilla, do you get dizzy if you’re upside down?”

This is so out of context of what we HAD been talking about i’m nonplussed.

“Um, me? if i’m upside down? do i get dizzy? um, well, yes, i guess  so, why?”

“Just wondering. Spreader bars are wonderful tools. Tell me, nilla, can you stand on your hands?”

Oh. My. Gawd.