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An Admission

Two professional women: both married with kids and both juggling clients, reports, potty training, packed lunches, chores, dogs, cats, errands, husbands and …”what was that you said? SEX?”
That three-letter word that once was so frequent, so liberating, so yummy has been sidelined in a sea of life, work and snot.
It is time.
Time to put sex back on a pedestal by injecting some extra spice into our relationships.

An Admission

Miss Lee listen up: Massages bore me. I don’t mean massages in a swanky spa when I am being tended to hand and foot – heck no, they are delicious. Give me a voucher for one of those any time. I mean the massages when I have to sit in one place for a period of time and GIVE one to someone else. For those who know me, they know patience isn’t one of my strong points and massages take patience. Oodles of it – wax on, wax off – the type that Mr. Miyagi (thanks KARATE KID) would have been proud of. So when Miss Lee picked massage for this week’s mission I groaned. Inwardly. I don’t immediately tell Miss Lee when I think her missions suck, only after the fact, like now. She can take it, she gives as good as she gets.

A mission though is a mission. I must attempt it at all costs.

And so I begin.

Boy Duke is asleep, Baby Duchess is refluxing but asleep. It is late. I am knackered. I start massaging the Duke’s torso. He seems to like it. Actually in fact he seems to really like it, so I weigh the pros and cons up in my head. Continue the act of massage which could see me falling asleep mid knead OR abort the massage and cut straight to the chase making the Duke even happier? It took me a millisecond to make the decision. Screw the kneading, lets get to it.

I told you patience wasn’t my strong point.

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