I am blessed with good men in my life. I am doubly blessed in that I am married to one of them.
Reading through many blogs you could be forgiven for getting the impression that spouses tend to be callous, insensitive, unfulfilling bastards and that only lovers are gifted with sexual prowess and the ability to siginificantly dampen a duvet. After reading some authors you are left wondering why they married such an unsexy, joyless git in the first place, and why they remain if life is so fucking awful and red hot lover is so a-MAZ-ing. (Usually it's because despite being an insensitive, sexless destroyer of self esteem, the spouse pays the bills, keeps the roof over their heads and is good with the kids. But will they tie their other half to the bed and jam a sex toy up their arse whilst snarling "you love it, you dirty slut"? Will they fuck. The selfish cunts!)
Anyway, this little post-ette is just to say that I had one of the best evenings I have had in a very long time with......(fanfare).....my husband. It wasn't set in a hotel room, it wasn't illicit, it wasn't risky but it was warm and loving, companionable, sexy and fun. I wouldn't swap it for a room full of dildo-wielding casual fucks. (Actually, that is quite a scary image, and not many people would put a tick in that box).
I have not been drinking.