{ 08 21 2008 }

Why We Got The King-Size Bed

It was the first full day we had been in Cabo, Mexico, and that evening I wanted to go drink and check out the live band playing in the hotel pavilion. The Marine grumbled that he needed some sleep. No problem, we didn’t get in until late the night before. We lay down on the king-size bed for a much-needed nap.

I woke up an hour later feeling frisky as hell. We had not yet had sex on our vacation, first because of the delayed flight and then that morning as soon as I saw the sun was shining I took off running for the pool. I nudged The Marine to wake up. He didn’t move. I put my hand on his shoulder and sweetly said, “it’s time to get up.” He didn’t move. I slid my hand over his crotch and started massaging.

He didn’t move. “Marine?” I asked louder. My hand massaged harder. At least one part of his body was beginning to wake up.

“I’m sleeping,” he mumbled.

Okay, fine. He’s tired. But jeez, I was tired too. Supposedly I was even more sleep-deprived than he was because I had been up late every night that week working on my presentation. I don’t know something about BEING IN MEXICO ON VACATION kept me energized. I got up and changed into a sexy little sundress, then casually walked around in front of him in hopes that he would feel inspired to GET THE HELL UP.

The Marine’s response was to begin snoring. My sundress felt a little insulted.

I decided to read and try waking him up again in an hour. I lay on the bed and read, being sure to make lots of loud noises to encourage The Marine to wake up. He snored louder.

An hour later I snuggled up behind The Marine. He didn’t move. I put my arm on his side. Nothing. I rubbed his hip and crotch with my hand. Nothing.

As I patted The Marine softly on the shoulder, I whispered in his ear “time to wake up and go out.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” he snapped.

My eyes narrowed into little slits. Did he just snap at me? IN CABO?!! How dare he snap at me like that.

I lay stunned on the bed for a moment. Then I got up, took off the insulted sundress, and put on a fuck-you tshirt. No boobie show for The Marine. I climbed back into bed under the covers and pulled out my book. Hmm, it’s kind of dark. I flipped on the bedside lamp. Ooooh, nice and bright!

I turned on my side and accidentally on purpose kicked The Marine a little. He didn’t move. I accidentally kicked him again, harder this time. He grunted a little.

My stomach began to feel funny. Uh oh, I felt a fart coming on. Normally I would find a discreet and non-offensive way to let it out, but The Marine had pissed me off. WE ARE ON SEXCATION IN CABO. WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT OF SEXCATION IF THERE IS NO SEX?

I looked over my shoulder. My ass was pointed directly at The Marine, sleeping soundly like a little cranky angel.

I farted. It was silent but deadly. HAHA, TAKE THAT! I JUST GAVE YOU A DUTCH OVEN, BITCH!

I looked over my shoulder again. The Marine’s nose was not anywhere near being under the covers. Shit. What’s the point of a dutch oven if no one is there to die in it?

In a huff I turned onto my back and lifted the covers to shake out the smell. ACHHKKK. It hit me full-on in the face. Shit I did not think this through, I thought to myself as I covered my nose with my hands in a futile attempt at protection.

With the covers placed down safely around my waist, I turned onto my side and kicked The Marine one more time. It was a hard one because knocked one of his legs out of position. HA HA, goes Nelson.

An hour and a half, two walks around the hotel and several chapters in my book later, The Marine woke up. I was fuming. Not only did I not get laid–in Cabo–but we missed the live Mexican band I had wanted to see. Sure I went out and looked around on my own, but some things are way more fun when with someone else. LIKE SEX.

I felt The Marine turn to face me in bed. I was focused on pretending that I was reading.

His hand rested on my hip. I hissed at him.

“I’m sorry I slept all night, babe.” I ignored him. “I didn’t feel very good.” Really? Maybe it was all the kicking.

He attempted to spoon me. I was not having it. TONIGHT I AM A BUTTER KNIFE, A-HOLE. NO SPOONS FOR YOU. I continued fake-reading until he fell asleep.

I read a little longer until I was tired, then I turned off the lamp and snuggled under the covers. Keep in mind this was a king-size hotel bed, so we had a lot of mattress to work with. The Marine had started the evening well on his side, with me only a crotch-grab away.

As the night progressed, I moved farther and farther away from him. With a king-size bed there is a huge expanse of avoidance to be utilized.

Once he woke up and attempted to snuggle, he invaded my half of the bed. That’s MY HALF. It is only for people WHO WANT TO HAVE SEX WHILE ON VACATION. YOU SIR ARE NOT WELCOME ON MY HALF. And thus the kicking continued throughout the night. The Marine continued to pursue my snuggles across the vastness of the bed, to no avail.

SNUGGLES COME AFTER SEX, ASSHOLE.

___________
Continue reading here.

Posted by Over Educated Nympho on Thursday, August 21st, 2008, at 8:35 am, and filed under sex, humor, dating.

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