Sober sex.

Sunday night was pretty interesting. After a day of running around, TW called about 8:30 or so. After Saturday's drinking incident, I was apt to get some so I put on a flirty skirt and a tank top - that was it. He was settled in watching TV and during a commercial break, I hopped over to his side of the couch right on top of his lap. A little making out emerged, he was rubbing up on my thigh when he stopped, "Are you even wearing underwear?"

"Nope."

Just a few moments after that, he got up and went in the kitchen, peeked his head around the corner, "Are you coming?"

I bolted upstairs like a school girl. The clothes came off, but the skirt stayed on and about 20 minutes later we both laid there in post-coital relief.

"Is that the first time we've had sex sober?" He asked.

"Crap. I think so." I responded.

"No, it can't be ..."

"How long have we been doing this, 2 months? Yeah, that can't be the first time?" I questioned, secretly tallying it up in my head that while we've been knocking boots for almost 2 months, it's only really been slightly over 1/2 a dozen times. We giggled a bit about what had just happened - but either way the result was pretty definite that it was good (not great-we're still getting there) sex that way. He came no problem as did I. I was also pumped to show off that I'd been practicing keeping it down so that we could get it on more often when there were other people in the house.

"Did you see how quiet I was? I've been practicing." I joked while running my fingertips along his collar bone.

He then explained that he did notice, but that I don't have to be quiet. We laid there for a few minutes in each other's arms until his craving for taco bell came back. We darted off for some 10pm food, went back to his place and I forced him to just lay with his arm around me. I was exhausted but needed to get the dogs out one more time. I got home around 12:30, curled up into bed by myself and slept straight through the night.

Due to being out on the town Monday, our normal routine of sex was interrupted. He had an early meeting and I didn't have a car so he promised to drunk dial after poker last night. Just in case it would be at my house, I started cleaning when I got home around 10pm. At 12:30 I could barely keep my eyes open (and they shut for a second since I did end up missing his first call) but by 12:45 a cranky TW told me to come over. Exhausted from a long day and not so much sleep the night before, we got naked and did our business in a rough 20 minutes. This time it was on the verge of being great. While I was on top he hit the g-spot and it knocked me out, then he climbed on top and at almost the same point we came together. The difference this time was that I couldn't get up and leave, I was spent. We didn't talk like we normally do, I just laid on his shoulder and we both drifted off to sleep. Some how I managed to get under the covers. There were a few moments in the middle of the night that I would suddenly be aware that I was not at my house, only to find that I was in a much better place, all curled up in his arms. There was actually a point where I turned my back on him, only to have him scoot up spooning style. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as I drifted back to sleep.

Luckily there wasn't much going on today, so I knew I could get away with coming in late if I overslept, but just in routine I woke up at 6am and got dressed to head home.

Hopefully I didn't use up my two sex cards this week and tomorrow will still result in a little action ...