So Keiran reckons that he’s going to be able to smear on the charm so greatly over the weekend, that my loins with absolutely yearn for him madly and will under no circumstances be able to dismiss his sexual advances. Hmm..? 🙂
‘Chrissie, you’ll be soooo in love with me that you’ll want me. You’re going to LOVE what I’ve planned. You’ll just want it.’
I guess it proves that even when a guy is married to you, they still ‘woo’ you, or buy you things in order to get into your pants. 🙂 It’s actually harder for them once they’ve married you, as your legs seem to glue themselves together and only open for special occasions. The last time he saw my vagina it had a giant HEAD, which was attached to our SON creeping out of it. (Creeping? I made that sound odd…like Junior was tip toeing out of my vagina, with a *shush* finger and peeky eyes.) That’s a horror movie in itself.
But yeah…we haven’t had sex since, so my husband believes that our one year anniversary will mark the new beginning to our fruitful future sex life. He’s thinking, romance, love and’ kids are with grandma’ humping. Like I said before, we’re grownups and married now, so we don’t seem to care too much about the rumpy pumpy part, because life with each other and looking after the bambino’s fills us with joy..and all that McJizzle. We’re both motivated by love and stability and not actually the art of ‘pumping.’ However, saying that I do believe we’re due a little bonky, I do still have a delicious sex drive and i’m quite excited actually because we’re good at sex when we actually do it. We’re creative in the bedroom..and I don’t mean we make pictures out of dried up macaroni, glue and glitter. Yet I wouldn’t put it past us with Ruby. If you stay still for too long in Wunnaland you end up with fairy stickers on you somewhere, or laid down with a blanket forced upon you so she can pretend to be a Doctor. It’s terrifying.
Anyway, yesterday I thought it would be funny to annoy my dear husband by infuriating his libido and poncing around in a short see through cream and hot pink nighty, equipped with bows. I didn’t even wear knickers so the frilly rim only just covered my little Burmese bum. Then I made sure to keep bending down for things, all ‘lady like,’ as if I didn’t realize I was panty-less. 🙂
The nursery run had been complete. (The nursery door jarred open yesterday and out DARTED my little girl, running as fast as she could, giggling and shouting ‘GET ME’ in her piggy tails and dress. I loved it because she was nutty and well she really is the most impressive thing that has ever ventured out of my privates.) But yes…the children were in bed. I had poured myself a vino and out popped the nighty. Keiran had been at the gym and was about to make an appearance.
Now, I immediately knew that Keiran was mildy placed off balanced by my nighty fandango and simply because he pretended as though it wasn’t happening, like I was in joggers and a too big for me t-shirt or something, with dribble running down the side of my witch mouth. (He’s a blokey who loves a bit of nighty on a kitten,. Meaning, if i go all ‘glamour pussy’ on him he can’t even SEE for his boner poking his eye out. So if any one usually can’ t handle this moment, it’s HIM, but heaven FORBID he actually admit that he had been defeated by a Wunna in a nighty, as he knew the whole point was to ferociously arouse him to prove that he wanted me desperately, only to not ‘put out.’ 🙂 Yay! #teamgirl)
So, there I was pottering about the living room, in my panty-less see through nighty. Bending at things, reaching at things and fanning myself because it was obviously far too humid and hot when I have no clothes on? 🙂 It was like the ‘Dance of the Seven Veils.’ I got all ‘Salome’ on his arse…yet a bit more Yorkshire than exotic. And then I won. I won when I walked towards the mirror, stretched up, but bent over to sip my red wine, through a straw, which was placed upon a mantle piece of the exact right height and there I saw him!! He secretly PERVED at my peeking out of the frilly nighty rimmed BUM. #winner #gotcha #pervy #youwantme
I immediately told him that I had noticed him perving and instead of fighting the feeling he went with it and then starting being overly nice to me and kissing me whenever he could, with moments of going back to pretending I wasn’t in a nighty, just to make sure i wasn’t getting too big headed. He even pointed at me, with a McDonalds chicken wrap in his hands…well he had one in his hands, then pointed at me, before then placing his hand over his heart. ‘I love you.’ It was sort of like he was a gangsta…who ‘wifed up’ chicks in nighties.
If he’s telling me he loves me between chicken bites, then I’m winning. So i wound him up more by climbing on him, cuddling him, being suggestive, but not putting out. Then i sacked it all off because I got tired and took a nap on the sofa. #oldbird This was after taking pictures of myself (for comical value mid torment) on my phone to put up on instagram.
(I did this pose into my phone as he watched on saying ‘Why you being a weirdo??’ 🙂 I felt like one of those haggard girls on Facebook who want to flaunt their goods for attention. I did used to do that…but I just did it better and more for PROMOTION than attention. I was a rebel WITH a cause and not just…a slag . 😉 )
Oh and this is when I sacked it off…at 10.29pm.
Life swiftly got back to normal.
It ended in a smile though…
But yeah…i’m really excited for the anniversary getaway now because I had forgotten that I’d been living on zero sleep due to newborns and two year olds. I deserve a bit of wining and dining and adoration. AND to be able to celebrate my first year of marriage (well to Keiran 😉 ) with a good nights kip.)
I don’t actually know where we’re going, I just think I know and well he’s quite good at the art of being romantic, so i’m in safe hands, until his hands get a mind of their own. Then no-ones safe. To be honest he’s hardly ever pervy, when he wants sex with me, he’s always quite loving or playful. It gives the ego a better landing if he doesn’t get lucky, I guess?
I’m going to miss the kiddiewinkles even though we’ll be local and just in a hotel. Stupid aren’t I! But my life has sort of become them. They’re my bestest friends ever and I don’t mind it one bit. I LOVE IT, my kids are ace. Hence why I wish to make millions of pounds so I can just be at home ‘doing life’ with them, loving then, guiding them, laughing with them. I’m a lot more attached to them then I ever thought I would be. In fact, I’m a much better mum than I ever thought I would be and I did actually think that I would be ace at it. 🙂
Keiran went on one of his mad 6am runs this morning. A time where I usually lay there blind as a bat and knackered from the newborn night shift which is really now just Ruby…she can never sleep without drama nightmares. Junior snores through the evening,with the odd grunt.
Anyway this morning The Hubs brought each of us back a freshly plucked poppy from his morning run and although Ruby ate mine, I really adored it. It’s good to have a man who’ll go on a run and think about you enough to bring you back a poppy. A lot of men do, or they think to do it and don’t. Keiran will always do it and because he wants to play life (when it comes to romance) like a movie.
Ruby’s heart was delighted when she recieved hers and I adore that to, because Keiran sort of really stands strong as a male role model for her. Pete does also, as Pete is kind and loving. Yet Keiran is the Daddy that will play with her until her heart’s content, buy her flowers when she’s happy and sing her songs when she’s sad. He’s pretty much shown her what love is and the male role model a little girl has will dictate pretty much what she initially searches for when it comes to love and men. That means a lot to me because with her being my little girly, I protect her heart massively. Pete’s a good guy, but a little more reserved. A little more ‘polished’ than Keiran, which makes him less hands on.
I’m having to type all this whilst attempting to make pasta. I’m shit at cooking because I hate it. I want to be cooked for and well Keiran’s useless in this department. Not because he can’t, but because he can’t be bothered to. Therefore to stop him from moaning, I have to tend to the cooking. I don’t even like cleaning it all away afterward, like I Tweeted the other day, I even contemplated THROWING OUT a pan, because I couldn’t be bothered to wash it. The task seemed far too mighty for me. I’d rather wrestle apes.
Today, he asked me for food by gleefully trundling down the stairs, trying to be cute and in a baby voice saying , ‘Baaaaabe…can we just….PASTA.’ Then that was it. Pasta was to be cooked and life was meant to carry on afterward. Then he galloped upstairs like the happiest man in all the world. As IF you can simply shout a type of food or food group AT ME and expect my being to be able to conjure up some kind of tasty goodness. ALL my food LOOKS good, but tastes like shit. I can make anything look good…it’s my job to. However, if we’re going on substance…i’m a *thumbs down.*
I’ve actually noticed that i’ve had to do a lot more cooking since not ‘putting out.’ AND that I can’t really use the ‘i’ve just had your baby’ line to great effect any more, as it’s been two months. ANNOYING. I think i’ve got my balance all wrong? Maybe I should ‘put out’ and then he won’t be arsed with a hundred eggs for breakfast, pasta for lunch and a steak for dinner. Saying that he might get too eager and i’ll be strapped to the bed posts 24/7 with my legs at quarter past nine, wishing for ‘sunny side up?’ I’ll have to decide what I like better, sex for cooking? What’s easiest? 🙂 I’m better at sex than I really am at cooking, yet cooking is far less messy. He’s just come down and in his baby voice said ‘Baaabe..what am I going to do when you go to work? Who’s going to look after me?’ Lol. Imagine being a man who yearns to be looked after and then goes and picks Chrissie Wunna for his wife. 🙂