I've done quite a bit of reading in the last few months. Action adventure. Romance. Romantic Suspense. Erotic Romance. Westerns. All of them have one thing in common. Lousy pillow talk.
The hunk and I have been married a long time--nearly forty-five years--and I have to confess our pillow talk does not, nor ever has resembled the dialogue in books. Not even close. To tell the truth, most pillow talk in books just makes me want to laugh. Or throw the book at the wall.
Partly, I think it's because there just isn't any graceful way to disrobe. Unless you're doing a burlesque show. And most guys aren't much interested in the how-you-get-naked part. They're happy to speed up the process, if you take too long, but as long as you get to the good stuff, you'll have their undivided attention. As the hunk says, "Take off your clothes." Ah, the romance.
Really. I'm nearly as wide as I am tall. Yet, he still wants me to take off my clothes with amazing frequency.
Now, the pillow talk. Our conversations tend to go something like this.
"Do you want the light on?"
"Yeah. Did you lock the front door?"
"It's locked. Did you see that post on the Internet about the bank robbery? That was just stupid."
"Takes all kinds... Damn, my knees hurt."
"You want me to rub them?"
"Yeah. Maybe I'll take a hot shower first."
"Okay. I'll check out Facebook while you do that."
"Where are the towels?"
"In the laundry basket."
"Never mind. Let's just go to bed. I'll shower later."
See? No sighing. No whimpering. Maybe some moaning later on... Or groaning. *Smile*
anny
