risquédivorcée

I started dating my man nearly a year and a half ago and gave him the name  “Working Class Whimsy” the first time I blogged about him. I had done enough dating and blogging at that point to realize that my old system of first initial/age was confusing and I had recently started giving the guys I date more descriptive monikers. It’s funny to look back over the past 17 months of change, growth and increased depth of our relationship and evaluate the cutesy little blog name I gave him & see if it still fits.

(For the record, I recently saw “Brad Pitt” again and man, his blog name no longer matches him!!)

I called my guy “Working Class Whimsy” because he came from a very poor, blue-collar, working-class background. Though extremely smart and witty, he’s also very “simple” in terms of his needs & expectations. While my ex spouse was always concerned with having the newest technology, car, books, music, software, games, etc and never gave a thought to his “instant gratification” spending habits, “WCW” is happy driving an old car that’s paid for, making a simple meal and hanging out in sweats. My ex seemed to always be trying to overcompensate for his humble beginnings while Whimsy seems comfortable in the old neighborhood, ya know?

The “Whimsy” part comes from the funky artist and funny, goofy, inventive romantic who belies his “quiet” and “simple” side to slay me with a creative or romantic gesture, stun me with the depth of his understanding and leave me speechless with the intensity of the words and actions that he chooses to show his love.

This man has never bought me flowers but he eats my pussy like he’s being graded on it and has done so about 300 of the past 365 days. I mean, come ON! I can buy my own flowers!

So I wanted to share with you a moment of silly sweetness displayed by my whimsical guy last night during sexy time.

The chill & rain of fall is upon us here in the Pacific Northwest. I’ve just broken down and turned on the furnace. Still, last night our room was cool when we went to bed. Our loving turned to his giving me some intense and delightful oral ministrations and despite the way that he warmed my core, I was cold and made mention of it. Immediately he sprung into action using two heavy blankets to swathe my legs, feet, breasts, shoulders & arms on either side of my body – leaving an exposed strip of bare flesh down my middle. I was laughing at the absurdity and cleverness of this – I was snuggly warm and nothing was exposed anymore except my crotch which was covered with his face and warm from the delightful friction caused by teeth, tongue, beard, mustache and fingers.

Giggling, I said that he made me a taco and then laughing, I said it was my “taco taco” because he left only my lady bits exposed and the rest was wrapped in a warm “shell” of blankets.

Well, between enjoying the “all-you-can-eat taco buffet” and silly remarks about “hot sauce” and “extra sour cream” we both rather enjoyed ourselves!