River and I went to karate class yesterday evening. We were the only two students in our white-belt class, which is the first time that’s ever happened. So we were partnered up. We’ve been doing groundwork a lot recently, and we spent most of the hour down on the mat together, one of us variously sitting on top of the other while the other wriggled into better position under the other’s hips, pulled her down, then hugged his head up to her chest (to avoid being hit, of course) and rolled her over onto her back while checking her arms from on top of her.

All stuff we do in the bedroom, of course. :-)

What was kind of surprising for me, and I’m not sure if it was a pleasant surprise or not although I think it was, was River’s constant stream of banter. “I’m the dominant female.” “He’s my slave.” “Here I am doing all the work as usual.” (As if!) Normally it would be me saying things like that, being the incorrigible lecher of this couple, but I didn’t want to make our poor instructor, a great guy who is much younger than us, too uncomfortable.

I have to give River credit though for setting a good example of what “older” women are like in a good relationship.

At bedtime she’s lurking under the covers. I impose myself on her the best I can. “You’re not going to let all of that warmup in karate go to waste, are you?” I move in and we have some good smoochies. But she knows the best way to put me off without rejecting me. “How about if we practice our groundwork together tomorrow and see what happens?” “Works for me.”


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