He 'Gets' Me, He 'Gets' Me Not

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6:37 am

After divesting his clothes (I sleep naked; he dresses for an arctic expedition before coming to bed), my husband rocks our bodies together in a slow glide and picks up the conversation (which happens to be about potential future lovers…which is a subject that occasionally serves to turn him on…which is the *only* reason he’s even remotely interested in sex at this hour) where we left off a moment before.

“Why don’t you get together with A?” he asks.

I wrap my legs around his, pulling him into me, before I respond.

“Because I’m not interested in A.”

He knows better than to ask why (or maybe he’s just not awake enough to bother), so he asks a different question instead.

“What kind of guys are you interested in?”

Mentally rolling my eyes (because after almost ten years with me, he *still* doesn’t recognize my most sensitive erogenous zone as such), I tighten my PC muscles and explain.

“I like men who stimulate my brain.”

He contemplates this revelation for a moment, then nods.

“I think your brain is in your pussy,” he states with not-yet-caffeinated academic sobriety. “So that makes perfect sense.”


Hmph! Well at least it makes sense to HIM.  I, on the other hand, am (Still! An hour and a half later!) slightly dumbfounded.

How is it possible that someone who understands me so well doesn’t really understand me at all?



0 thoughts on “He 'Gets' Me, He 'Gets' Me Not

  1. Bill

    The forest and the trees comes to mind. You get really close to someone and you notice they’re {their} wood and you forget about the rest of the forest. And the squirrels are nuts.

    I had never heard the song before, but I’ve heard ones like it.


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