“Can you smell the pesto on my breath?” I asked–I’d just come to bed, waking him.
“Yes,” he said. We were both mostly naked and cuddly.
“Does is smell good?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you jealous that I fell in love with pesto?” I asked.
“No, it’s ok,” he said.
“Well, I have some news. I invited pesto to come live with us.”
“Ok! I see!” he said. I was petting his beautiful chest, and pressing my breasts on him, petting his hair, kissing him.
“Yeah, pesto lives here now. And you get to wash the blender!” We were laughing. “Well, I wash it sometimes.” I added. “Pesto makes me more happy than anything. Except you. And maybe Bunny.”
Then we talked about whether Bunny was our roommate or what. I said he’s our Bed Bunny, then our Toy.
For some reason, my spouse responded strongly to the idea of Bun being a toy–he laughed and laughed. He was not entirely awake.
“Right now, Bunny isn’t looking at me. His ear is over his eyes,” my love told me.
“Maybe he’s looking at you with his butt,” I suggested. Bun is large enough to make a good spare pillow at important times.
I was telling my love a story about an experience I’d had earlier that day, and he winced at the part that involved pain and a little blood.
“It’s ok, honey,” I said. “It wasn’t that bad. Do you wince because you’re worried it was bad?”
“No,” he said. “Because I care.”
“You wince because you’re performing that you care about me, so you’ll get more blowjobs?”
“What?” he asked.
“Yeah, you always care, but you’ve learned to wince so I’ll know you care. So you’ll get more blowjobs.”
“It’s not about that,” he said.
“What’s it about?” I asked.
“It’s for love!” he said. I was holding his hand and looking at how cute he is. We were smiling at one another.
“Well, I know blowjobs don’t have to be about love, but ours are, pretty much.”
“Right,” he said.
“So then it’s about blowjobs.”
He guessed I was correct. He used to not show compassion, and over the years he’s learned that if he doesn’t perform it, I don’t know he feels it, and I experience less care.
That means I want to suck his dick less often. It behooves him to move toward performing care.
“Do you remember this morning when I was clinging on your back and kissing your shoulder a lot?” I asked.
“Mmmm, no,” he said.
“Aw, you must have been asleep. I thought you were kind of awake…”
I give him a lot of love he doesn’t remember. Seems ok, all this love that I can express, even if his consciousness is elsewhere.
I thought pets were for absorbing extra love. But I learned that pets are legitimate beings, and inter-species relationship is valid. It’s not that pets are stand-ins for people.
I watched my dad unable to connect with humans, but loving and attentive to his dog. At the time, I thought a dog was a surrogate. Maybe I was just jealous, my dad loved his dog and didn’t love me.
I’m so glad my spouse and I have different kinds of love together, and had all that in place before covid. We give one another so many kinds of comfort, support, understanding, nurturing, excitement, tenderness, sexiness, just the two of us.
I hope one day we can get more physicality from other people, but for now, it’s a sweet time, and we’re doing it well.