My favorite kind of day

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Taking

Practicing knots and ties, my husband bound my hands in front of me before bed.

He slipped into bed behind me, positioning himself to press his freezing feet on my warm inner thighs.

"Ooof, those are like ice," I said, squeezing my legs around them. 

"Mmhmm, just the way you like them," he responded.

"I don't know about that.. I just like you to take things from me."

"Is that so? What kinds of things?"

A little rope goes a long way

I've mentioned how our little one has taken to tying people up. He's now interesting in being tied up himself, thanks to The Doctor from Doctor Who: The Eleventh Hour. There's a scene in which the eleventh Doctor is handcuffed to the radiator in Amy's house, and my little boy wants to play that particular scene over and over and over, with himself as The Doctor.

So yesterday he asked me to take his ribbon, and make handcuffs out of it so I could tie him to our door, which apparently is a good radiator substitute. Always up for a challenge, I did it, then told my husband (at work) via instant message: "I just learned how to make handcuffs out of rope/ribbon/whatever, and it was super fast and easy!"

He responded: "You'll have to teach me."

Wow, wow, wow, wow

Wow.

I wrote a fantasy scene out for my husband, and he, completely unexpectedly, carried it out, but ramped way, way up.

He told me to kiss him, and while I was doing so, he grabbed my wrist and pushed me onto my back, his fingers encircling the wrist, gripping hard. I loved it. He started talking about my breast, said he liked it. He stroked it, tugged on the nipple, causing gentle tingles all over me, and lots of "mmm, mmm, mmmmmmmm"s to come out of me. Unexpectedly, he slapped it hard, and my "mmmm" turned into an "ooof," as my body cringed, curled up, trying to protect itself. I forced it back down, and he slapped my breast again.

"I like to see how you react to things I do to this breast," he said, hitting it several more times. It burned. He moved his face over and started rubbing his bristles against my nipple. I squirmed, trying to get away. "Oooh, three days of no shaving make a lot of stubble, wouldn't you say?" he asked as he kept rubbing that sandpaper chin against my sensitive flesh.