“I wanted to tell you something,” my spouse said. We were in the car, and he was driving me somewhere.
“Ok,” I said. “What’s up?”
“The other day when you told me you were writing, and you asked if that was ok,” he sad. “I wanted to tell you–it’s always ok that you’re writing.”
“Aw!” I said.
“I wanted to make sure you know that,” he said.
“Oooh! I like that! Good boyfriend!” I said. I was so happy, I was laughing.
Joyful, I touched his thigh. “You want me to like you!” I said. “Just tell me that, and I’ll be on your dick– lickety split!”
I don’t think I ever said the term lickety split before, but it worked well in this context.
“Mmmm!” my spouse said. He reached into his pants to adjust his dick, which had become hard, thinking about what I said.
Yes, I felt very respected, and respect makes me horny. The safe feeling makes my cunt hum with curiosity and availability. I’ve been in relationships with people who thought I was on earth to serve them. I was supposed to drop everything for them, all the time. They’d never say that, but that’s how they behaved.
I love that my spouse understands what I’m on earth to do. His respect for my writing and art making is 10 out of 10, nothing held back.
He loves almost all of the art I make. Even if he doesn’t like something I write or make, he respects it and respects me me, my time, my values, my choices. Yes, that’s a big part of why this person is my family member and central to my life. He’s one in a million.
what work is
I wish he was not one in a million! What a better world it would be, if all relationshiped people respected their partner and their partner’s work. My spouse comprehends that my life is not about making money, making him a sandwich, or following any expectations I learned from my wounded society.
I make really good sandwiches and other food, but when I’m writing, he comprehends that I’m doing a sacred thing and need time and quiet. He can find his own lunch.
For that I will be always grateful. I respect his respect, and I will suck his dick any day.