Thursday, May 31, 2018

Researching DD - the TBT Remix

July 5, 2015... Thanks for the idea, PK. We sure have come a long way.

We are Eric and Amy.

I am Amy.  Strong, independent "woman" who refuses to grow up and insists on being called "girl".  I have my own home, raise my own children, hold down a full time job and go to school part time.  I make my own decisions; one of them being, my relationship with Eric.

He is Eric.  Strong, independent man who is rock solid in his career, his convictions and his personal value. He lives his own life and makes his own decisions; one of them being, his relationship with me.

We joke about the balance of power.  We met in a work setting where Eric holds the cards.  It wasn't long before we were getting together for coffee, lunch, dinner and then all three.  We clicked; intellectually, physically and in a limitless spirit of adventure.  Our friendship blossomed over a period of two years, one hour at a time.

Eric is my biggest cheerleader.  He knows how hard I work and the demands I place on myself.  He accepts me for who I am and wants to see me excel in everything I choose to take on.  Nothing I do takes away from who he is or what he is about.  There is no need for him to control me or for me to serve him.  There is mutual love and respect between the two of us and neither would have it any other way.  Yet in this dance of life, it is becoming increasingly clear that the balance of power can and should shift when one partner (that would be me) longs for a sense of accountability (to myself) and stress relief.

About three months ago, Eric and I started researching domestic discipline or "DD".  We read countless articles, stories and blogs.  We virtually got to know Clint and Chelsea, explored the therapeutic side of Ms. Aria and became intrigued by Holding 49 Percent. We are not interested in this lifestyle as a means to serve God, boost Eric's ego, or grow a submissive side to me.  Instead, we are exploring the psychological and physiological benefits of a spanking "reset".  Lets face it, men and women handle stress differently.  Men tend to need a physical release while women are desperate for a more emotional letting go; each producing natural pain and stress relieving endorphins.

My plate is too full and over the years, Eric has seen how this piling of responsibility and obligation bottles up inside me like a coke shaken on a hot summer day.  I stop sleeping, eat poorly, quit exercising and push through whatever it is I feel I must achieve. I get frustrated and short tempered, my mind whirling in so many directions I can't shut it off and then my thoughts spiral in such a flurry, I can't slow down enough to move forward.  Eventually, I crash and burn; cry for ten hours, sleep for two days and then, I'm me again.  Silly, happy, productive me.

Eric and I think a form of DD may put an end to the crash and burn by resetting my brain before I get wrapped up in an endless cycle of uncontrolled thoughts.  Our theory is, when I get overwhelmed and am running at 100% with no room to breathe, if Eric were to step in and take me over the edge (OTK, as it were) to 101%, ultimately he would hold me accountable and I could get enough of a release to drop the momentum in my head down to 50%, thus allowing me to stay focused and keep going. We believe when my brain is running a mile a minute, a sharp but loving spanking would force my mind to focus on the pain rather than everything else going on in my head.  Some tears and a little corner time in a quiet peaceful place, followed by the warm embrace of the man I love - a total reset. We've talked about it for months.  We've read about it for weeks.  We've thought about it, at least I have, for years.  Maybe someday, soon, we'll give it a try.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Saved by the Bell

"I want you to spank me 100 times," I said.

Eric took off his reading glasses and looked up from his book, eyebrows cocked, inquisitive.

"What did you say?" he asked, sitting back in the chair.

"I want you to spank me 100 times," I said again, a sense of excitement and anticipation in my voice. "I want to know what it feels like."

Eric laughed.  "Were you not here a few days ago when you could barely take three swats with a hairbrush? What's gotten into you?"

"I think we've been doing this all wrong," I stated. "I've been reading about Abby's maintenance, watching JT's videos, and talking to another wife. 100 is the magic number!  We need at least 100!"

"One hundred," Eric confirmed.  "I think on a bad day, I only spank you twenty or twenty-five times, max!"

"That's what I mean," I squealed, straddling him and wrapping my arms around his neck.  "Please, honey," I begged, feeling him grow beneath my pelvis. "Please spank me 100 times."

We got lost in kisses and one thing led to another. There was no spanking. Not one hundred. Not even one.

Curled up in my husbands arms, I brought it up again.

"Do you think we've been doing it wrong this whole time?"

Eric tucked my hair behind my ear and leaned up against his elbow.

"No, we haven't been doing it wrong," he replied, suddenly distracted by a nipple he couldn't help but pinch.  "We've been doing this for years and everything we do works for us."

I lay back and looked at the ceiling before starting again.  "I know this works for us," I was being serious, "but I want to know what other people do.  I want to know what 100 feels like too."

Eric laughed.  "Okay," he said, kissing my cheeks and tracing hearts along my belly. "but be careful what you ask for, Amy Lynn. If you really want to do this, I'm not going to have you back out a quarter of the way through.  You're going to have to take the full 100."

I jumped up.

"Yes!" I yelped, sliding to the floor and bending over the bed.  "Go for it!" I encouraged, adding, "and start the count over if I move."

Just then the phone rang.  Eric sighed and picked it up.  Work invaded once again.

"You were saved by the bell, my dear," he said, reaching for his clothes and preparing to hole up in his office for the rest of the evening.  "You have until tomorrow night to change your mind, young lady," Eric warned.  "then we'll see if curiosity killed the cat."

MEOOOOOWWWWW. ;)

Amy

Sunday, May 20, 2018

It's the Little Things

The little things have been chipping away at the deliciousness of life.  Late night meetings, unexpected stress inducers, and disgruntled nastiness not between us but surrounding us.  I mentioned, mid-week, that this would never get better unless and until we made the effort to change it.

"Who cares about all of the crap around us? Yes, to the extent that we can't damage our careers, livelihood, and responsibilities, of course, but at what cost? We need to stay close and strong and healthy.  Whether we work ourselves to death or take breaks and stay sane, the battles at our jobs will always be there. We need to put our relationship ahead of the things that piece by piece destroy us."

Eric didn't disagree and I half expected him to book the next flight to Hawaii for ten days in the sand. Instead, he continued to put us on the back burner and jump through hoops to manage the madness being thrown at him. Or so I thought...

The little things have been adding to the deliciousness of life.

Eric had another insane day on Wednesday.  He texted halfway through, "I want to spank you."  This wasn't about anything I had done but more about what he needed.  Of all things, I could barely handle that spanking and it wasn't even a hard one.  I was wimpy woo-butt and we both ended up laughing about what a wuss I had become beneath a hairbrush that used to clear my mind. Eric brushed my hair and then over his knee I went. We both found peace with a lovely hand spanking.

Thursday, I was told to lie naked on the bed and spread my legs, ten minutes before Eric was heading to a late night meeting.  Kisses on my inner thighs, his tongue dancing in, out, and around those spaces that make me grasp the sheets and gasp in waves of pleasure.  When I came, Eric held me tighter than ever, his face beaming as he showered me with love.  Short on time, I had spoken up rather than being a silent partner.  He was thrilled and I was to the moon.

Friday Eric was out the door long before I had to leave so I decided to start my day with a hot bubble bath.  I used up the last of my favorite soap, grapefruit scented Gloomaway, and thought about how refreshing it was to relax in the morning.  Going to brush my teeth, I opened the cabinet and there, on the shelf, was a replacement bottle left by a man who pays attention. Aww. Eric!

Saturday I had to work most of the day.  Everything was chugging along and then I heard the door open and looked up to see who was coming in from across the room.  It was Eric!  Completely unexpected and unplanned, my husband just dropped by to say hello. I was glowing, butterflies and smiles like a school girl with a crush. I ended up working three extra hours simply because I was flying high.

What I've learned this week is the little things add up and become big things in life.  It is our choice, to focus on the sour tasting drama and allow it to chip away and bit by bit destroy us. Or, it is our choice to extend and savor the sweet little things that keep us bouncing through the clouds, partaking in the deliciousness of it all.

 Amy

Saturday, May 19, 2018

The Good Soldier

This week started off badly for my husband. Eric is a good soldier.  He is punctual, follows directions, and plays by the rules.  He's squared away with a buck fifty in the bank and a head full of facts and figures that keep us all safe and secure.  There is a sense of trust and calm that he brings to the table which allows me to breathe easy, knowing that at the end of the day, there is a man in this world who would move heaven and earth just to see me smile. 

Unfortunately, Eric doesn't always control said world and there are people on the planet who take advantage of such a good man. At work this week, he was once again being a good soldier but that meant putting everything aside in order to deal with unreasonable, unrealistic, and unfair.  And by "putting everything aside", I mean his health, his sanity, and us.  Frustrated, overtired, and stressed, I looked at the man who owns my heart and wondered, at what cost?

Taking a step in the pool of his mind, I realized how little Eric does without considering the weight of responsibility and commitment to others that rides on his shoulders.  Always two steps ahead, his corporate ladder supports those on his team from the top of the company, down.  At home, he has his family, friends, extended family, and others who he tends to and cares for.  The house, the yard, the cars, the timeliness of things, he is that guy.

I love Eric, wholeheartedly. I want my husband to enjoy, experience, and explore anything and everything that he wants in life but it's hard to find even a moment to ask, what do you need, my love? I'm here and I'm asking.  After all, I'd move heaven and earth for that guy too.


Friday, May 11, 2018

I'm a Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Here's an early Mother's Day wish to you all, because I am outta here! Image result for happy mothers day images

Got surprised today with a plane ticket to visit my daughter
on Saturday night. Woo Hoo!!  I am so excited.  Was
going to fly back late on Sunday but everything was booked
so I get to stay until 6am Monday morning. Yay!!!  Have a
wonderful weekend and if you get a chance, do our "How
Does He" Meme.

Amy

"How Does He" Meme (Or "She", if that's your thing!)

Eric and I live in a spanking world bubble.  I blog and that's our only outlet. We read and that's our inlet.  It's not like we can have a conversation with the neighbors about it. (By the way, everyone next door is home and recovering.) Yet, there is the curiosity about the "How" of it all.  So, here's a Meme that we made up.  If you are so inclined to share, feel free to jump on board and play along!

1.  How does he let you know a spanking is coming?
Eric is very much into the foreplay and anticipation of a spanking.  Depending on the reason for it, he'll start eluding to what is on his mind.  When he's being subtle, he'll just rest his hands on his belt buckle until he knows I've noticed.  Sometimes he'll text things like, "Amy needs a spanking".  In public, he'll lean into my ear and whisper, "Amy Lynn, you've been a bad girl" and then brush his hand across my behind. And then there are the times when he just flat out grabs the back of my arm and marches me to our room.

2.  How does he choose an implement?
We have an array of implements for Eric to choose from but I don't think he has a formula for when he uses what.  In the heat of the moment, he'll go for whatever is closest. (Usually the cheese board in the kitchen or his belt.)  When I need to feel loved, he'll just use his hand.  When he really wants to get his point across, he prefers a small leather strap.  When we are being playful, Eric will break out the old school stick or the flogger when it's more sexual. 

3.  How does he lecture?
Eric has a firm tone when he believes I am being taken advantage of or not being myself because of someone else.  In my fantasies, he takes his time asking me questions and forcing me to admit what is really going on in my head but we haven't really slowed down enough to play that all out.  We've tried a time or two but get all turned on and bypass straight to the physical.

4.  How does he position you?
Favorite position is over Eric's knee on a spanking chair in our room.  Second, and especially if the neighbors are home, we go in the walk-in closet and he'll have me hold onto the clothes racks while he spanks me. We also like over the bed, the back of the couch, the washing machine, and the kitchen counter.  Oh, and in the car, when we had the Tahoe.  Perfect fit over the center console. 

5.  How does he spank you?
Eric spanks me to clear my mind as a reset, to sexually arouse us both, or on the rare occasion as a punishment.  For the reset, he starts with clothes on and we talk a lot throughout.  He'll ask what I need.  He'll tell me to breathe through it and encourage me to take more as he knows it will ease my mind in the long run.  Sexually it's all about igniting my body, making me wet, and turning me on. When tiny beads of sweat break out along my back, he's got a sign that I'm jello in his hands. As for discipline, Eric will spank me hard enough that I eventually throw my hand back to cover my butt and then he know's he's got me at the edge.  He pins my hand down and then spanks five or six more times, fast and hard, and then I usually end up in the corner.

6.  How does he take care of you afterwards?
It is very rare, no matter what type of spanking, that we don't end up in bed afterwards.  Eric and I are extremely sexual partners and when we get physical, we tend to go there.  When he punishes me with the hairbrush, he'll always have me sit afterwards or stand in front of the mirror while he brushes my hair. If we are short on time, at the very least, Eric will always tell me this is done in love and that whatever the reason behind it, we've dealt with it and it is behind us.  Eric is very reassuring after any type of spanking and always makes sure I'm emotionally in a good place. Later, later, we always talk about what took place.  We learn a lot from those conversations.

7. How often does he spank you?
We go through phases for sure, depending on what's going on in life.  Sometimes I need it a lot more (like when I was in school and working), sometimes we are both wound up sexually and it'll be foreplay, and sometimes there just isn't enough time.  When Eric travels, it's hard but we've gotten to where I will spank myself over the phone so he can talk me through whatever.  When I'm sick or feeling down, or if I have any marks or bruises from a previous spanking, Eric will wait until I'm strong and healthy again.  That's a conversation we keep having because of all things, a quick spanking makes even those times feel better!  ;)

Amy



Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Late Night Pillow Fight

Everyone has been overwhelmingly supportive of my daughter; getting her in a space where things are right one way or another.  But, that was all put on hold when our neighbor was in a car accident and we lost two days helping her family out.  Sorry for not responding to your wonderful loving comments.  It's been an insane couple of days.

Tonight, I waited in the hospital lobby while Eric worked late.  The expected discharge did not happen and I brought a disappointed little boy home to wait one more day for his mom and grandma to return.  When he finally slept, I crawled into bed next to my exhausted husband and nuzzled his arm.

"You woke me up," he whispered, rolling into me and wrapping his body around my back and shoulders.  "I was dreaming about Vegas."

Eric and I have been talking about going to Vegas for a long time. We know Shadow Lane has an event every year.  We have fantasized about fancy hotel rooms with topless pools, waxing parlors, and Cirque du Soleil.

"What were you doing in Vegas?" I asked.

Eric grinned in the darkness and squeezed me even tighter.

"We were at an amateur night strip club and you were on stage showing off your skills."

I pondered this answer.  Was this something I could actually do?  Body image, a C minus at best. A public venue? Who else would be in the audience?  Was this something Eric truly wanted or was it just a dream or a fantasy? A combination of the two?

I sat up and flipped on a tiny table side light. Eric groaned and covered his eyes but I ignored him and called out to Alexa. "Alexa, play Joe Cocker, You can leave your hat on."

Slowly and sloppily, I did my own mini strip tease, dancing around, shaking my bacon, playing it up before my sleepy eyed yet entranced man.

Ahhh, life is good.  The music slowed and I leaned in for a kiss.

"Don't quit your day job," Eric chided and then pulling me onto the bed, dove his tongue into my mouth so I wouldn't have time to complain about his poor taste in jokes.

(Speaking of, on a side note, in an extremely seductive voice, Eric left me a message at work the other day. "Hi honey.  Can I tell you something dirty to think about until you see me tonight?  The white horse fell in the mud." That man has bologna in his shoes.)

Anyway, the stress and frustration of the weekend turned into a naked wrestling match and pillow fight, our giggles muffled as we tried to keep from waking the young house guest sleeping in the downstairs bedroom.  Delirium had obviously set it but it felt awesome and we'll both get through today with cups of caffeine and silly memories.

Saturday, May 5, 2018

Think Like a Man

I don't want to bore you with the gory details but the long and the short of it is:
Daughter, making her way in life on thin ice, doing surprisingly well, even through recent break-up with first love, still managing classes, part-time job, deciding where to live over summer, chatted on the phone last night from her current Economics Professor's, twice her age, home, where she apparently spends every Friday night, yes, all night, talking about her breakdown, diagnosis, past, present, future, you heard it right, all night, every Friday, for four weeks in a row now.

I kept the conversation to myself until Eric and I were in the backyard starting the flower planting project he'd mapped out for us.  The sun beat down and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead as I babbled on and on about the phone call.  His face grew deeper and deeper shades of red as the hour wore on and I started to wonder if he'd remembered his sunblock.

"The thing is," I said reassuring myself, "she's really so much happier, maybe he is just a good sounding board for her."

Eric stood and I watched as he filled his lungs to capacity and then slowly let out the air through pursed lips while using the back of his forearm to wipe the moisture from his brow.  Inhaling a second time, Eric threw the trowel into the dirt, like a knife stabbing a slab of meat, and suddenly his hand was on the back of my arm leading me into the house.

Over the kitchen counter, my denim clad bottom took ten quick and hard strikes with the wooden cheese board that I really should keep further out of reach.

"You need to quit playing dumb, Amy, " he said, "and think like a man."

My butt was on fire and I was having a hard time concentrating on his words as I was still in shock that this story had somehow landed me into this position.

"I've been a man my whole life," he continued, "and I guarantee you, Mr. Almost Forty Years Old Professor is NOT a good sounding board for your naive pretty little daughter."

"You don't know that for sure," I countered.

Whack, whack, whack.

"Say that again, Amy Lynn," he dared and I bit my tongue.

"You think it's normal for a professor to have his much younger female student over to his house?" he demanded.

"Well not really," I said, "but when I was in college I went out with a professor or two."

Whack, whack, whack.  The example did not work in my favor.

"Oh for God's sake," Eric exclaimed, "think like a man, Amy Lynn."

I reached back to rub a cheek but was told exactly where my hand needed to remain.

"I'm going to run through the list of things that are wrong with this picture, " Eric stated, "and when I'm done, if you still think everything is cool, I'll go back to planting, and won't say another word."

Suffice it to say, I will not be sitting for the rest of this weekend.  Eric's list was quite long and that paddle made it's mark after each one of his points. My personal feminine naivety and creative rationalization of the possible innocence around this entire situation is gone and I have been taught to think like a man.

Decisions have been made. My daughter is coming home for the summer. Period. She is not to go to her professor's house again. Ever. She can finish the last three weeks of this semester but the Dean is getting a call from me on Monday.

I've never put my foot down like this before but when I reminded Eric that she is over 18 and this could backfire and really upset her, I got another round with the paddle and spent some time in the corner while he forcefully dug and planted his way through our yard.

This is not easy and quite frankly, I don't like the way men think! That said, I am extremely glad Eric is here to help us over this hurdle....

Amy

Thursday, May 3, 2018

:P


Image result for mayonnaise
Enjoy!

Sincerely,
Your Brat

No Worries Meredith!

I got an extremely sweet and concerned email from Meredith.

I was confused.

Everything is grand at the moment.

I made my way across Blog land and noticed under a blog role or two a post from last August, "When the HOH Goes Dark" was republished.

ACK! Blogger?! No.  Very old news. I was cleaning out my drafts box last night. Must have pressed publish by mistake. Old, old, no longer applicable news.

Sorry for the scare,

but thank you for reaching out.

Amy

Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Ronnie's Spanking Experiment

Ronnie's latest post, Avoid Hard Spanks, got me thinking about turning tables. Mind you, I thoroughly enjoy the relationship Eric and I have set up.  I live a disciplined life, am a disciplined wife, and have no real desire to be dominant.  However, it got me thinking and he's back so I figured, why not give it a go and see what happens?

It was Eric's first day returning to work, and my husband came home right on time and was slipping his shoes off in the entry way when I appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Eric Michael!" I said sternly.  "You need to march yourself right up those stairs and into our bedroom and I mean NOW Mister."

Eric raised an eyebrow, cocked his head, and grinned.

"Yes Ma'am," he replied and proceeded to take his sweet time emptying keys, phone and change from his pockets and hanging up his jacket.

"I'm waiting," I stated, blatantly tapping my foot on one of the steps.

Eric smiled. "I'm coming," he said, a glint in his eye.  Not exactly the look of fear I was expecting.

Eric reached the landing and I put both hands on his shoulders, pushing him down the hall and into the bedroom.

"Get those pants off," I ordered. I was getting into my new role as drill sergeant extraordinaire.

Without pausing a moment, his pants were on the floor.

"Underwear too," I commanded, the power exuding from my stance and tone.

Again, without any hesitation, they too found a spot on the carpet.

That was the moment when I thought, "This is so easy.  He's just giving into anything I say! All it took was an authoritative voice and BAM, Eric was putty in my hands. I owned him."

I stepped toward my tall handsome man and pulled his arm toward our foot board, which I intended to bend him over. His body went stiff and my grip vanished as his fingers somehow wrapped around my wrist.

"What are you doing?" his voice was inquisitive yet suspicious.

I stood tall and one by one, peeled his fingers apart, releasing my arm.

"I'm punishing you for leaving me for such a long time," I stated and swung so that my right palm would come crashing down on his naked behind.  Only, this weird centrifical or centripetal or centrifugal force thing happened and instead of my hand spanking Eric, it blew right past him and enabled his hand to turn my whole body to the very position I had intended for him.

"Oh you think so?" was all I heard before Eric's voice was drowned out by the loud whacking sound that echoed across my bottom as a harsh spanking ensued.  The more I squirmed, the more rapid his fire.  The more I whined, the harder the smack.  Finally, I just gave in and rested over the foot board, fully experiencing my domination plan, in opposite land.

Eric stepped back so I could have a bit of breathing room to stand and recover.

"Maybe you should get your pants off now, young lady," he mocked, apparently very turned on by the spanking he had just dished out.

I took off my clothes and pointing, asked if he was willing to share.

"With Red Ass Amy?" he asked.  "Of course."

We kissed, we played, we rested against a stack of pillows and stared into each other's eyes.

"I thought I had you," I said, breaking the silence.  "When you gave in so easily I thought maybe you really were going to let me spank you."

Eric shook his head.

"Amy Lynn," he said, holding my face in his palms and kissing my forehead.  "that is never going to happen.  I only gave in because I thought you wanted sex."

Well... I can't say he was wrong!

Amy

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

Cloud Nine

Image result for floating on a cloudThis is me, floating on cloud nine.  I look over at the pillow on my left, the spot that for weeks has been barren and cold.  He's there, breathing deeply, exhausted from long flights, long lines, and a long drive.  I should go in the other room but I don't want to be away from him, not for a second.  I'm still floating, basking in the glow of his kiss, his touch, his love.  Homecoming. My adorable husband is completely worth the wait.

Eric had an hour drive once he landed and we talked the entire time. Giddy and giggly, I bounced from room to room, straightening this and rearranging that.  The plate stacked with brownies sat next to a giant potted plant of snap dragons and rested on the tabletop; with it's underbelly converted into a plush blanketed cozy fort with six snap lights hanging from strands of yarn. We got off the phone when the garage door sounded and I raced upstairs for one last swish of mouthwash.

From the entryway, Eric beamed up at me and I squealed with delight as I flew down into his arms. We kissed and kissed. I pulled away to steal a glance at his handsome face, only to dive back in and drink of his lips. We made our way to the living room, my clothes leaving a trail, until I wrapped my nakedness around him, melting while he held on tightly, our hearts reconnecting one beat at a time.  More kisses. I bent down, beckoning him to follow me into the fort.

Smack, smack.  That familiar hand on my ass. Irresistible. I am to him, he is to me.

"I've been dreaming of this moment for five days straight," he says, rocking me gently onto my back, nipples ripe and on display under the glow of neon. I rise toward his body but he pushes me into place and pulls a soft blue blindfold from his pocket.  "Tonight is all about you, love," he says, fingers tracing my cheeks, neck, breasts, and belly.  Knees spread, I grasp the material covering the floor as his soft wet kisses make a line down my inner thigh.

I moan and whisper, "I like that."

Eric continues, tongue darting in and out, up and down, bringing my body to life. He's done this before, smooth waxed skin a canvas for his touch.  I always blush and squirm away, worried that my body won't respond correctly, my mind questioning my scent, my reaction, my value.  I want to please him but don't do well with the reverse. For me, there is always the impossibility of an orgasm and I usually move us in another direction.

Tonight is different.  The blindfold has heightened my senses by removing my sight.  Weeks apart have exaggerated my longing and I lean into the passion Eric has chosen to shower on me.  I breathe in the rough patch of his five o'clock shadow and allow him to stimulate, enlighten, awaken the parts of me that have hidden for far too long.

Image result for floating on a cloud"Slow," the word escapes in a wisp of sound and a ripple makes it's way across my ocean to the treasured tip buried deep beneath the hood of my tiny ship.

"There," I say, repeating the word as the feelings grow.  Anxiety momentarily sets in as I get close and I reach for his hand. Fingers intertwine fingers and my hips rise, enveloping full oral penetration. It happens, for the first time ever, at the touch of his tongue. I burst into flames; no fear, no shame. There is simply, pleasure.

We celebrate, more than just Eric coming home. A painfully tainted past has received a giant crack in the wall that shields me from vulnerability and I nestle securely in the arms of the man who takes his time and keeps me safe. We make our way to bed, too tired to indulge in the chocolate coma baked especially for this occasion.

"Tomorrow, honey. Tomorrow."

I float overhead, watching him sleep, from my new position on cloud nine. I want him to do it again.

Amy