I think Husband is eager for me to go back to jiu jitsu.
I've been out with an injury. He's worried he might get injured, too. You see, I'm jonesing to grapple, and he bears the brunt of this.
This evening, he found himself in a triangle choke and a wrist lock, just for being friendly. He wasn't amused. (But he does have the perfect-sized neck for me to snake my legs around. I had a nice clinch!) He stared up at me with blank, doe-like eyes that seemed to say, Yes, I know you can do that. Brava. Now, shall we proceed as planned?
And then a little while later, I just started laughing out loud. Not what most men want to hear in bed.
"What is so funny?" he said.
"Nothing, nothing . . . "
"Well, it must be something . . . "
"Okay," I confessed. "I was looking for your lapel to grab on to, but then I realized we were doing 'no gi.'" I cracked up again.
Husband was not amused. "Can we just continue?" he sighed.
"Agreed," I said, and I swept him to mount.