River has a somewhat flexible job. Which is not to say she’s a yoga instructor like a certain friend of mine. I can only wish. But flexible enough to come home sometimes during work hours.
Are you thinking what I’m thinking? You are? I wish River thought like you.
This morning she leaves for work. “Hopefully I’ll be home for lunch.” “Is that a hint?” “We’ll see.” I try to maintain my optimism. Or maybe it’s my optimism that maintains me.
Shortly before 2 she comes in the back door. “I don’t have to be back at work until 4.” This is sounding good. “So I’m going for a run.” Uh oh. Not so good. “You are sorely lacking in …” “Libido?” “Yep.” Don’t get the wrong impression. It’s all in good fun. Although I can think of better fun.
Watching her strip off and snake into her sport bra and shorts just makes things worse. Then I realize she’ll be sweaty when she gets back, and that doesn’t help either. There’s just something about a sweaty girl that I like. At least when the girl is River.
“I’m just going for a short run.” That means there’s hope for me yet
Dot dot dot.
She’s back already. I’m not even done writing this post. She skillfully deflects my advances and innuendos with her magic bracelets.
“I’m sweating like a pig.” “Is that a hint?” “No. I have to get dressed and make some phone calls and get back to work.” “So why are you doing so many other things that aren’t on your list?” Maybe she could do me, too. “Luckily for you I don’t just live by my lists.” “I’m not feeling so lucky right now, if you get my meaning.”
She gets it. But it seems the only screwing I’ll be doing this afternoon will to be put the new LED bulbs in the bathroom.