It was a good weekend.
Even with Misty recovering from her horrible flu, s/he came over Saturday night. Snuggles and fucking and sleep. We woke up and talked about our dreams.
“We were at a high school for weird monster creatures, and I discovered I could turn into a wolf. I think I may have been a boy wolf.”
“What was I?” He asked, as we laid there under the covers, nose to nose.
“You, very oddly, turned into a cauliflower. You were a girl though.” I say, and we both giggled like idiots at the ridiculousness of it.
I tell more about my crazy dream and then ask ed if he remembered any of his. He rarely remembers his dreams.
“I do” he tells me and then describes a dream about race tracks and an obnoxious french intructor/racer. “Mine isn’t as interesting as yours”
“Oh, I don’t know about that… Who doesn’t love obnoxious french men?”
“Sassy” he says as he kisses my nose. It’s funny because his last name is extremely french.
We play and tell each other dirty stories. A wonderful start to a Sunday.