Saturday Night Fever: Juicy Jammies

Juicy?

The night I stole borrowed purloined my husband’s Batman jammies, he teased me that he would be excited to put them on and wear them himself once I’d “gotten my juices all over them.”

I wasn’t feeling particularly ‘juicy’ when he made that comment, but after snuggling into the warmth of my bed and burrowing, tummy-curled into the mattress and therefore feeling warm and snuggly (you know that warmth is a thing for me now, right? whereas I used to run a constant inner temp of 3,794 degrees thanks to my PCOS, my peri-menopausal body is now a tundra… and my vagina is an igloo), other bits of me started to get warm too ifyouknowwhatImean, and I thought, “Why not give those bits a snuggle too?”

And so I ‘snuggled’ my lady bits. 😉

And y’know…

I am totally serious about heat being an issue. Like, specifically, it’s an issue sexual-interest wise when there is no heat (because cold skin does not a turned-on Feve make), but also like: When my outsides feel warm, my insides get hot.

So I stayed under my covers and put my hands to work under my borrowed Bat-pants and just let the heat — of the cozy-cuddled atmosphere, of the imaginative meanderings that spurred me on, of the friction of fingers frotting against plump flesh — pour through me.

Which resulted in a bit of ‘heat’ pouring (okay, not pouring — dripping? drizzling?) out of me.

Now, to be clear: I don’t squirt. (Though occasionally I’ve been known to squeesh.)

But when my body is stimulated _just_ right…

I *do* get a lil wet.

My husband knows this, of course.

So – remembering his ‘juicy’ remark of the night before and knowing my juices had indeed (surprise, surprise!) wetted the pajama fabric – when I peeled his Batman jammies off the following morning and tossed them his way with “I got them juicy for you,” he did what any sensible man would.

Meaning: He held them up to his face and inhaled.

Then he wore them on his head like a turban.

: laugh :

(Yes, we’re all kinds of sober and serious around here.)

SO.

Now I can add “juicing hubby’s jammies” to my list of accomplishments for 2020. (I put a tick box for said accomplishment right next to “surviving.”)

And hey! With a track record like that to fall back on, 2021 is sure to be… I dunno, squeegy(?) or… something.

(I’ll tell you all about it when I figure it out. 😛 )

Meanwhile, I’m thinking that Juicy Couture ain’t got nothin’ on me. 😉

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Saturday Night Fever is my new weekly posting project for 2021, for those of you who might enjoy a bit of ‘warmth’ in your weekends. 😉 Click the badge to check out what it’s about, and feel free to join me here if you’re feeling Feverish on Saturday nights. 😉