Compatibility when waking up in the morning

When my guy and I were in the States, his phone would wake us both up. He had to go to work and he set his alarm for 7 am.

We are different. I hear an alarm and I get up automatically. He hears an alarm and hits the snooze button a few times.

The first time I heard his alarm on this trip, I woke up. I went into my usual wakey-wakey mode with him.

"Wakey wakey!" I said to him.
"I want to snooze," he said.
"How many times?" I asked him.
"Four times," he replied.
"That's a lot," I noted.

When his phone's alarm when off the fourth time, I put his phone on his head.

"You're mean. We aren't compatible," he whined.
"Do you want to break up?" I asked him.
"No. You're such a morning person and I'm not," he whined.

When it was finally 7:48 am, he woke up, got out of bed, and got on with his day. He's so boyish.

We suggested that he set his alarm to 7:30 am. He was much better after that.

Of course, on the weekend, he forgot to turn off his alarm.

"Alarm, sweetie," I said to him, which prompted him to turn it off.

I do miss seeing him snooze all day. He loves his sleep so much. I love sleep, too. I just am not a snoozer like he is.

Dopey guy and weed

It's nice when my guy is dopey after he has ejaculated. It's fun talking to him.

"Now that weed is legalized, remember not to use your credit card to purchase it. Otherwise, you may not be able to travel for work," I told him.
"Oh, that's bad," he said in a boyish tone.
"I love when you're dopey!" I said, sweetly kissing his face.

He's such a sweet guy. He continued smiling at me.

Aspiring to be Clint Eastwood

When we were in our early stages of dating, my guy revealed that he always wanted to be a manly, macho man growing up, like Clint Eastwood. Although he is manly, he has a gentle, boyish side. I first noted it when he was driving to Montreal and stopped to get ice cream.

"I know you don't like your boyish side, but I do. It compliments your manly side," I said to him while we were eating lunch.
"I loved Clint Eastwood as a boy. I wanted to be like him," he admitted.
"I know. But, you are you. You should embrace who you are. I do," I said.
"You're sweet. I wanted to say, 'Go ahead. Make my day,' like he did," he said.
"If you said, 'Make my day,' I would tell you to make your own day. Why do I have to do all the hard work?" I said rhetorically.

He laughed. I love him just the way he is, without the Clint Eastwood split personality.

Mushy mode about my hands and legs

My guy is extra mushy these days. It's nice. I see a boyishness when he is in this mode, which is sweet and endearing.

While driving him to the airport, we held hands. He looked at my pearl pink nail polish and said that he loved my nails.

I was still driving and he made this remark:

"You have the best looking legs that I have ever seen," he said.
"Thanks, sweetie," I replied.

I like his mushy mode that he is in.

Mushy and sweet

Whenever my guy and I have to part for a certain period, I tend to be the one who says that I don't want him to leave. He'll reassure me that it won't be long and that we'll keep in touch on Skype.

The other day, we had the complete role reversal. I drove him to the airport. I parked. He sat there.

"I don't want to leave you. I want to spend more time with you," he said, boyishly.
"I don't want you to leave, either. But, you have a flight to catch," I reasoned.
"I know. I just want to be with you longer," he stated.
"We can kiss, but you do have to catch your flight. You're kind of late and we can't have the police come over to tell you to go," I said, with both of us looking at the police car.

We kissed. It was good. We then got out of my car.

My guy went to get a cart. I did my usual bit by fetching his computer rolling back. He loaded the rest of his bags onto the cart.

We hugged. I knew that I was hugging him tightly. He reciprocated.

It's nice that he is good at expressing how he feels. He is mushy these days. It's so sweet.

Ha-penis and do-penis after sex

After sex, my guy and I end up having dopey conversations. We simply do.

On Thursday evening, I had just given my guy a handjob. We had cleaned up and were cuddling.

"You bring me a lot of ha-penis," I said, smiling at him while pointing at his member.
"That's clever and funny!" my guy said, with both of us laughing a lot.

Moments later, it was my guy's turn.

"How come my head hits the roof of your car?" he asked me, looking adorably like a lost little boy.

It's funny how he just sat at the edge of the seat, with his head touching the roof. He asked me why and just kept his head there.

Ah, good do-penis times!

Miracles happen... I drove my guy's car!

For probably a good two years, I have been teasing my guy to let me drive his car. He is like a little boy when it comes to his car. He doesn't want to let anyone drive it. It's his.

I did my usual routine as we walked over to his car on Monday.

"Can I drive your car?" I asked him.
"Sure! I don't see why not," my guy replied.
"Really? You're feeling okay?" I asked him.
"Yes! You're a good driver," he told me.

He let me drive his car. I had to brush the crumbs that he had left from eating breakfast while driving into work. He apologized. He's boyish that way.

I was shocked to drive his car. It handles well. It's like my car, with simulated manual gear shifts, except his car is built like a tank. I also got to check his temperature by touching his forehead. He wasn't running a fever. It was also the perfect time to caress his perfectly uniform head, which I find highly attractive.

We visited our usual Chinese restaurant for lunch. Our usual servers commented that it has been a while since we were there.

While waiting for our orders, I was still stunned.

"I still can't believe that you let me drive your car," I said.
"Maybe it's because I miss you so much that I said yes," he said, smiling at me.

Maybe. He advised that he didn't get a brain transplant, so I will go with his theory.

I suppose that his letting me drive his car is one of my early birthday gifts. I got him a few gifts from my trip to Shanghai:

• Jasmine tea, which he told me that he loves
• Chinese currency (Yuan or Renminbi), as we are both currency collectors
• Dark chocolate, which he loved, including the tin box

It was a happy day for both of us. We both missed each other.

You're mine... all mine!

My guy returned home safely. He had a long travel day. He forgot that today is Canada Day and that he gets this national holiday off.

The other day, we were on Skype chatting about not wanting to go to work.

"Maybe I can get arrested and spend time in jail. That way, I wouldn't have to go to work," I said in a weird bold statement.
"Sure, you could. But, you'd get raped and I don't want that," my guy said factually.
"That's true. It isn't the best scenario," I said, agreeing with him.
"Besides, I want to kiss and fondle you. I want you all to myself. You're mine... all mine!"

He's incredibly boyish, sweet, and sexy when he says things like that. It's a nice Hallmark greeting card just waiting to be produced. I love being his.

W is for wine and whine

My guy and I had dinner one evening at the Olive Garden restaurant. I introduced him to this place when we were both in New Jersey a few years ago. We were both there for work. I was in a two-week training course. My guy was teaching a different course to fellow colleagues for a week.

The restaurant offers free wine-tasting. We both sampled the red wine offered that evening. He took one sip and gave me a boyish I-don't-like-it expression on his face, which included a lot of eye blinks and tongue flickers.

On the contrary, I loved the wine. My guy have me his and I finished it. Needless to say, I am more of a wine fan than my guy.

I playfully whine about how sore my backside is after my guy has punished me. We both enjoy that. When we aren't being playful or intimate, we rarely whine about much.

However, my guy does break out and whine about something now and again. It mostly deals with items at his favourite store, Costco. He only whines about not getting a shirt or wool pants in his size to me. I try to console him and often suggest that we visit another Costco location. This suggestion helped fix one of the two problems recently.

Although my guy doesn't like being referred to as boyish (it makes sense, as he is a mature, grown man), he is. It is who he is. There's nothing wrong with that at all.

Chats and a sneaky caress

My guy and I couldn't find time to have lunch late last week. Instead, we managed to talk for an hour after we were both done work on Thursday.

We met on his floor of our building, in the lunchroom. It was nice to have a solid hour to talk about our day.

My guy told me that the two Swedish guests were happy. He could tell that my entertaining them made them feel comfortable.

After work, my guy was off to pick up something by my old alma mater. I asked him whether it was a legal transaction. When he finally told me that he was picking up a SIM card, he felt that he no longer seemed like a cool, edgy guy. Well, he always will be to me.

My guy likes the whole manly, macho persona. Deep down, he is a sweet, boyish guy. So, it's a nice balance. He's not a bad boy. I only playfully call him a mean guy when he spanks me hard.

When it was time to say goodbye, we were in front of the elevators.

"Can I caress your head?" I asked him.
"No!" he said, in a boyish, almost outraged voice. "Especially not in such a public setting."

I became a rebellious little girl. I caressed it anyway in the quiet hallway before my guy badged his way through the revolving door. He was smiling.

My guy can be a bit shy when it comes to public affection at work. Otherwise, when we are out and about away from work, he has no issues at all.

It's cute. He's cute, too.

Boyish, girly, and free

In the early stages of our relationship, I noted to my guy that he is boyish. It isn't every day that you hear him say that he is driving along the highway, and decides to take a break by pulling over and getting an ice cream cone.

My guy doesn't like that he is boyish. Growing up, he always wanted to be a rugged, macho type of guy, like Clint Eastwood.

My guy is a combination of boyish and manly. He is the latter when he sees some sort of threat happening to me. It's not typically a life-threatening event by any stretch. When he hears about someone being somewhat mean to me, he wants to protect me and beat that person up.

Of course, that sort of violence never happens. He also knows that I can take care of myself. However, it's always a nice feeling when he is so protective of me.

My guy is in Turkey for business for two weeks. I will join him on the weekend.

We talked over Skype this afternoon. He was telling me how posh the hotel room is and that I'd be pleased there.

My guy is an elite member at this hotel chain. There is a lounge area where you have all-you-can-eat-and-drink access.

My guy was so excited about the lounge area:

"It's free, free, free!" he exclaimed, with his voice getting higher and higher.
"Did you clear out the bar by drinking every alcoholic beverage that you could down?" I asked him.
"No, I haven't been drinking. It's all free!"

It's that playful boyishness that I like about him, among his fine qualities. It also confirms that he likes being Cheap Bastard.

As for me, I tend to be childlike and girly now and again. Last week, my guy came upstairs to visit me at the office. We moved to a meeting room to chat privately.

It was nice to take a break from work. We held hands. I was sucking on a purple lollipop. It was a part of the post-Halloween stash of unwanted candy that a colleague had left in the common cafeteria.

"Is my tongue purple?" I asked him, sticking out my tongue at him while trying to look at my tongue myself.
"It is," he confirmed. "I like how childish you are. It's cute, as are you."

He is a sweet, boyish, and manly.