I wasn’t going to write a post. I just couldn’t get my head wrapped around what’s been going on. I’m not sure I can yet, but here goes. I’ve had enough of this year. The unknowns abound. Will we get sick from the virus? Are we doing enough to keep ourselves safe? Will the economy ever bounce back? If the virus doesn’t kill us, will he have enough money to survive? How long will I be allowed to work from home? Can we get through this presidential election already? I just want to hear that the orange menace is out of office. And so on.

Last week I had a few nights that I couldn’t get to sleep immediately because it was hard to turn off my brain. What ifs kept swirling around. Sometimes I feel like I can’t hold it all together. For whatever reason, last night I was able to sleep. I felt pretty good this morning. And then the phone rang. It was a bit of bad news. But it sparked a conversation that probably should have been ongoing and, in the course of it, Lion apparently thought I was attacking him. Nope. I was putting information out there. That’s all. Whatever miscommunication there was undid any sleep I got last night. Lion felt attacked. I felt attacked. The damage was done.

Lion suggested he should be punished for upsetting me. His theory has been that if he upsets me, swats will reset everything. I suppose, under normal circumstances, that’s true. Right now, it feels like whatever tenuous hold I had on reality is gone. It’s not entirely because of this morning’s conversation. It’s all the stresses from the past six months coming to jump on the one nerve I had left. Spanking Lion will not help that. I’m not even upset with Lion. Maybe I just need a day to fall apart so I can gather myself together and move on.

Lion says he likes surprises. I like to surprise him. It works out just fine. I also like to vary the way I do things. For example, I used to change my grip while I jerked him off. Now I change the way I suck him. Variety is the spice of life.

Last night I decided he needed some vacuum power. I maintained a fairly steady vacuum and a fairly steady motion. He likes the vacuum part as long as I let go as he comes. Since I knew he wasn’t going to come, I didn’t let go. It won’t surprise you to know that he loved it.

I got him to the edge at least three times. Actually, I’m not sure he ever got too far from the edge the few times I gave him a break. He told me afterward that he would have liked more. I’m sure he would have liked enough to come, but that wasn’t in the cards. I’m equally sure he would have liked to come and then been upset that I allowed him to come. It’s only been seven days (eight now) since his last orgasm. That’s hardly enough of a wait.

I don’t have a length of time in mind for his wait. I’m sure it will be a combination of when I think he’s ready and when I want to do it. Over the past year or more, his orgasms have happened when I want to give him one versus when he wants one. In other words, he hasn’t ever asked for one with me giving in. I love giving him orgasms so it’s usually me saying, “Dammit! I want one. I’m going to take it now.” The other criteria I use is when I decide an orgasm is sort of a reset button. It’s taking a long time to get him to the edge so I’ll keep going with the hope that it will reset his clock and make it easier to edge him again. He may think he’s influencing me when he says he really wants an orgasm, but he isn’t. Well, he is, but that statement is more likely to make me laugh at him.

You want one? Really? Yeah. Sure. And now you’re not getting one even if I was planning on giving you one. Ha! Take that!

We have an osmosis filter under our kitchen sink. I hate it. The water is great. There are no nasties in it. But: a) I’m always afraid it will leak, and b) when I changed the filters – with lots of grumbling – something happened to the feed for our ice maker. Since Lion can’t crawl around on the floor, I have to do it. I hate anything associated with home improvement. My ex-husband and I did a lot of home improvements. We fought constantly while we did them. We fought constantly anyway, but particularly when we did home improvements. Thus, I don’t want to crawl around on the floor while Lion offers suggestions as to what the cause of the ice maker’s problem may be.

I started writing this post before we attempted to fix the kitchen light. It’s a fluorescent fixture with four bulbs, two of which worked, and a ballast that buzzed like crazy. The other day, for some reason, all four bulbs came on and the brightness was cut in half. Lion decided we needed to fix it. He’s done electrical work in the past, (I have too in the home improvement hell of my first marriage) and he was sure it would be an easy fix. Ha! I believe in Murphy’s Law. However, Lion was right. The only problem was that he kept telling me to tuck wires that didn’t seem like they’d be in the way and there was nowhere to tuck them until I put the shroud back up anyway. Wires stripped. Wires connected. Shroud up. Wires tucked. Bulb in. Bulb tested. Repeat three times. Cover up. Done. Dare I say it was easy?

As we ate lunch by the light of the newly wired kitchen fixture, Lion conceded that the ice maker is working fine. It may have slowed down, but there are no crimps and there is nothing to do. Is that my second win of the day? I’m getting light-headed. The only chores left today is maybe some laundry and watching our football team attempt to look like they know how to play the game. Yesterday’s chore was much more fun. [Lion comments — Spanking me is also on her list.]

While I dislike waxing Lion, there are some fringe benefits. Number one is, of course, having a naked Lion in front of me. Since he’s normally naked, that may not seem like a fringe benefit, but he’s not normally on full display on a waxing table. And part of the waxing process is oiling him up so the wax doesn’t stick to his skin so much. The obvious fringe benefit there is that my hands don’t stick to him so much either. As in, they glide ever so smoothly over my weenie and the boys. There may not be a lot of hair on my weenie but I made sure the wax wouldn’t stand a chance of sticking. A little side trip to hand job-ville is always fun. You might say he got more of a benefit out of it but I’m not keeping score. I was distracted from the chore of waxing for a few minutes. I think we both took advantage of the situation.

Sometimes Lion thinks playing with him is a chore. I suppose, when it takes a long time to get him to the edge, I might see it as more of a chore than other times. In general, it’s not a chore. Besides, if playing with a hard weenie and making a Lion squirm is a chore, sign me up. It’s as much of a chore as giving a hand job to an oiled up weenie. I’d much rather play with Lion than do a load of laundry. Some chores are obviously more fun than others.

Yesterday afternoon, Lion had a doctor’s appointment. I’m sure I remember him telling me when he made it. I just don’t remember when it comes up. He “sprang” it on me the other day when he found out we could get a drive-through flu shot. A what? Yup. A drive-through flu shot. [Lion comments: You do have to slow down while they do it.] The office our primary care doctors work out of didn’t have appointments till October, but we were able to get appointments yesterday in Seattle where his other appointment was scheduled. 2020 is definitely a strange year.

While we were waiting for the doctor, Lion asked what we should have for dinner. I ran down the usual suspects and Lion growled. Why can’t I think of something else? He suggested stir fry. I never thought of that so I agreed. On the way home, he asked if I’d rather have barbecue. It made sense. We were going right past the barbecue place. Why not? Done.

I’ve been trying to get the house cleaned up for a while. I finally found the top of the kitchen table so I asked if Lion wanted to eat in the kitchen. I reasoned that he’d be less likely to create a mess with his ribs if he had a solid surface to eat them on. Just before he started eating, I sweetened the pot by nullifying the spilling rule for the night. It’s almost impossible to eat sauce-dripping ribs without spilling, or at least getting some on your hands that transfers to your shirt even with napkins or paper towels. Lion was more than happy to accept it. And, wouldn’t you know, when he’s allowed to make a mess with no consequences, his shirt was pristine. Go figure!

Once we hit the bedroom, Lion snoozed. I figured the outing did him in. He answered a few Jeopardy questions in his sleep and then woke up a bit around 8. I was about the ask if he felt up to playing when he asked me if we were going to play. He said he could go either way. If he’s not up for it, why do it? I let it go and Lion snoozed off and on for a while. Then, around bedtime, he asked if we could snuggle. Did that mean he wanted to play earlier? I don’t know. I thought by asking earlier, he’d let me know what he wanted. Did he leave it up to me because he didn’t want to decide?

The problem with asking him, I guess, is that he doesn’t want to impose on me. We play for him. I don’t think I’ll ever feel slighted if he says he doesn’t want to play because he truly doesn’t want to play. He’s done that before and I’ve never pushed him to play when he says he doesn’t want to. However, if he says he doesn’t want to play because he thinks I don’t want to play or he knows I’m tired so “don’t worry about it”, then I have a problem. If he doesn’t give me an honest answer, he can’t be upset, annoyed, sad, neglected, etc. that we didn’t play. If I have a reason that I don’t want to/can’t play, I’ll be honest.

This morning, Lion told me I have a horny Lion on my hands. I’m glad. I can have lots of fun with a horny Lion. But first, there’s the matter of de-furring. The hair above his penis is starting to tickle my nose again. But it’s the hair on his balls that is surprisingly long. How did that happen? Maybe the cage pushing his balls out actually increases blood flow and that increases hair growth. Weird. I’m thinking I’ll just do the front side this time. The back end hasn’t been bad the past few times. Of course, it was never as furry as the front. We’ll see how it goes. And, since I’m in the neighborhood of a wild weenie, I’ll have to give him a few yanks if not some sucks. It just has to be done.