Jokes and mushiness

My guy and I were chatting the other day. He cracked a joke and I laughed.

"I love when you laugh at my jokes. Normally, I have to tickle you," he teased.
"Your joke was funny. It's some of your puns that are horrible. All because I don't laugh doesn't mean that it's not clever, you know," I pointed out.
"Yes, I know. I just want you to be happy," he admitted.
"I am, especially with you," I said.

Yep, it was a mushy moment.

Borrowing a degree

My guy and I can practically talk about anything. I don't think that we have stumbled across a topic in which we have steered clear of discussing.

We are educated folks. Between the two of us, we have a ridiculous number of degrees. My guy was and still is an overachiever. I fit in the same realm, except that I do not have a doctorate.

We talked about whether we'd like to teach at a university. We both like that idea, but would ease into it by teaching a course a semester. The problem is finding a course to teach. The demand to teach a sessional course is high.

We then had this conversation:

"Can I borrow your PhD?" I asked him.
"Sure, if you want to change your name to mine," he said.
"I can do that. I'd also have to take testosterone pills to get my voice down a couple of octaves and tell horrible jokes," I joked.
"Oh, man," he said, laughing.
"Well, I think I have mastered telling horrible jokes, so I just have to worry about more cosmetic things," I said, smiling.

It's far more fun to borrow a degree than it is to slave over research for five years and be broke!

My guy making a rare appearance at work on Friday

My guy is going through another bout of depression. I have been giving him some breathing room, so he can sort out his feelings. We both hope that his mood will improve.

He was supposed to be at work this week for some training seminars. However, when I communicated with him on Tuesday, he said that he decided to stay at home. I simply told him to let me know when he was in the office.

On Friday, I didn't bring my lunch. Most of my team members could not go out for lunch. My boss was free, so we went to a vegetarian dim sum place. The food was tasty. I felt full for hours.

When we got back from lunch, I saw my guy exiting the building. We were both shocked to see each other. We each were with a colleague, so we kept our chat brief. My guy was smiling. He seemed like his usual self.

At 17:00, I had had enough of work and decided to wrap up the week. I typically stay longer than this departure time, but I often work more hours than I decided to pack up and go.

I was about to turn off my laptop. My guy sent me a message on our company's instant messaging program. I asked my guy if he needed anything, as I was powering off my laptop. He quickly pointed out that he wanted to wish me a good weekend. I knew that he was in a better mood.

I asked him whether he would like to chat. He was fine spending some time talking to me over tea. We met in one of the lunchrooms. We were both sitting close to it.

Of course, a software developer decided to track me down to ask me a question at the end of the workday and workweek. We spent perhaps ten minutes talking.

I then met my guy in the lunchroom. It was nice to see him. He looked good.

He confirmed that his mood was good today. He confessed that it was horrible for him the day before. He shared with me an app on his phone that lets him track his mood. It comes with analytical graphics. It's a useful tool.

I asked him whether I could hold his hand. Normally, we wouldn't do it at work, in a fairly public setting. Without waiting for a reply, I held his hand under the table. He liked that. He felt good. So did I.

We chatted some more about our week. We both cracked jokes like we usually do. It felt normal.

Baby steps. Friday was a positive, optimistic sign.

Lunch, gingering, and figging

I wanted to spend as much time as I could with my guy before he left for India for a couple of weeks ago. Our company had Good Friday off as a statutory holiday. Unfortunately, my guy had to work that day. He was holding a seminar at the office.

It has been such a hectic period at work that I had completely forgot about this holiday. I didn't have any plans for the Easter long weekend. I asked my guy if I could have lunch that day with him and join his seminar. He was good with that. We could then spend some quality time together afterwards.

We both came to the realization that all the office food places would also be closed.

The day before Good Friday, my guy and I were eating at our usual hangout. We asked whether the Chinese restaurant would be open the following day (we both knew the answer to that question, but wanted to know what time the restaurant would be open). My guy and I decided that we would drive everyone to the restaurant in our cars. There were six guests in total, so our two cars could seat everyone just fine.

I met everyone on Good Friday. We got along just fine. I tend to be comfortable talking in large group settings these days. It's probably because I am on teleconferences so often that I don't mind talking at all. We headed to the restaurant, had yummy food, exchanged a number of stories and jokes, and had a good time.

My guy insisted that he pay for my lunch. He is sweet that way. He even got the server to box my remaining Hakka chicken chow mein. Since it was a holiday, the lunch specials were not available. We all ended up ordering dinner-sized portions, so I got leftovers.

We got back to the training room and I attended the session, cracking jokes along with my guy while he was sharing his information with the group. My guy and I work well together. We feed off each other's wacky senses of humour.

My guy had ginger chicken for lunch. He had to burp.

"Sorry, guys. It's a byproduct of ginger chicken," he apologized.
"Should we move away from you?" I asked him. I was a couple of feet away from him.
"It hasn't reach the other end," he said, grinning.
"That is too much information!" I exclaimed, which made everyone laugh.
"I don't have to hit the washroom and do any gingering," he stated, with a continuation of laughter ensuing.

Yes, my guy now equates gingering to pooping. Weird.

We had a chat last week. I told him that gingering is related to figging. I explained the idea of peeling a ginger nub, and inserting it up one's butthole. He asked me whether I wanted to try it while spanking me. I didn't think that it would arouse me as much as simply being spanked. This notion, however, intrigued him.

"It's different how I am sharing with you a sexual practice that you are unfamiliar with. You normally share that sort of stuff with me," I stated.
"It's good," he replied.

It was sheer coincidence that his definition of gingering is closely related to what gingering truly means.

Chatting and being good

I had one of the best chats in weeks with my guy last Friday. He was in Brussels for business for a week and we connected on Skype.

As you know, my guy is going through a bout of depression. Our conversation last Friday felt great -- like every good chat tends to be. We talked about what happened in our day or week, joked, teased each other, and conversed about what was on our minds.

He told me that he was happy. I could tell from his tone that he was. It was definitely an encouraging sign.

The last part of our conversation was great:

"Well, it's midnight here, so I should go to bed and get up in about six hours to catch my flight. You be good, okay?" he said, which I haven't heard in a long time.
"Being good is difficult for me," I said.
"I know," he replied. "That's why I always have to remind you."
"You always tell me that I'm a bad girl, so being good isn't easy."
"You know what happens to bad girls like you, right?"

I do. I hope that he will do something about it to this bad girl.

"Be good," he signed off.
"I'll try."

I will try not to!

Sticking it out

The it in the title isn't meant to be a tongue-and-cheek innuendo of sorts. It is kind of clever if it were!

My guy and I met for lunch on Wednesday. His mood was much better. He says that he always smiles when he sees me. I think that I made him laugh a lot.

Our conversation over lunch was a good one. It took him a bit longer to get into his normal chatty self, but it was definitely a better conversation than we had on Monday.

What probably improved the quality was that I took the time out on Tuesday afternoon to write to him and share my insight on my experience battling depression. More importantly, I told him that I wanted to support him and to be there for him if he wanted to talk. I told him that I love him and admired how strong he was to tell me that he was depressed.

Although he is depressed and has lost his interest in a number of areas, including engaging in sex, I can tell that he still loves me. He knew that there was a heat draft directly under our table at the restaurant and suggested that we move, because I am a warm-bodied person. I told him that it was okay. My guy gets cold. I could simply roll up my sleeves if I started to feel warm.

He looked at my beige sweater and asked if it was new. I told him that he has seen it before, but I haven't worn it for a while. I had to remind him that he once told me that my erect nipple was showing underneath it. That detail jogged his mind. He remembered the breeze that day. I told him that he was the cause of my nipple getting all excited. My sweater was also larger on me than I had last remembered. He told me that larger is a good thing. I asked whether he was truly talking about sweaters, which made us both laugh.

He surprised me with a gift from Madrid. He got me castanets. He showed me how to place the strings on my thumbs and to try them out. It was a lot of fun. I felt like a lobster or crab for a bit.

After work, I headed to my car. His car was still there. I decided to lock my laptop bag in my car and to head to the training room. I dropped by to visit him. We had a decent chat about our day.

I asked him if I could give him a hug. He liked that. It was a nice twenty-second hug.

"Thank you, sweetness," he whispered in my right ear.
"I think that you need one," I replied.

After we unlocked from our embrace, he looked at me, with a huge smile on his face. I touched his face and was pleased that he was smiling on his own. He told me that I am still so sweet.

Baby steps. It will take a while for him to get out of his depressed state. All I can do is to be there and support him while he battles out of it.

A sound spanking and a flash drive joke

It's nice to write a brief post, saying how sore it is to be seated. I got my much anticipated spanking on Monday evening. It was great. My bottom is smarting.

I cried after the spanking, but it wasn't because I was sore. It was unexpected.

I will need to expand on both topics soon. I promise!

Before I hit the sack, I will share one little humourous tidbit. My guy was telling me that his work laptop was running out of disk space.

"I don't know why that is," he explained. "I don't know what is hogging up all my disk space."
"Maybe your extensive porn collection is taking up gigabytes of space," I said, being my cheeky self.
"No," he exclaimed. "I have them all on a flash drive."
"How fitting," I said. "Your fine collection is on a flash drive. When in doubt, whip it out."

My guy and I laughed for a bit.

Generic versus real Coke discussion after treehouse time

A couple of Mondays ago, after spending some quality time together, my guy and I chatted. We tend to chat about practically everything under the sun. My guy has mentioned that he likes when we chat equally as much as when we are intimate. I would have to agree with him!

Do keep in mind that we are dopey most of the time. We talked about Cinderella. My guy thought it was stupid that the prince was looking all over the place for a princess to have her foot "fit into a shoe." He thought that the story was not giving a good impression on children. What was even funnier was that he ended up switching the roles around. So, a male version of Cinderella was Cinderello. In a recent e-mail to my guy, I called him that. I ended my e-mail my addressing myself as Princess Charming.

We then talked about how great it would be for us to go to a drive-in movie. We spend so much time in the car that we might as well watch a movie there, too! Both of us have never been to a drive-in movie before. You'd think that two people who enjoy going to the movies would have done that before. So, we'll be trying that out when it's warm outside.

My guy teased me and poked fun at himself. He thinks that I think that he's cheap. I have told him that he's frugal -- that he understands how valuable it is to save money, but he's not a penny pincher where he's reluctant to spend any money.

We both liked the idea of going to the movies together. My guy joked that he'd smuggle in some generic soda pop. I said that I'd microwave some popcorn at work and then we could smuggle it into the movie theatre. I went one step further and said that we could get some Jiffy Pop and we could heat it over his car's warm engine. We both cracked up.

We both became rather sweet to each other in a serious moment of sorts.

"I'd get you real Coke," my guy insisted.
"Really? Real Coke?" I asked, as if I didn't believe him.
"Yes, I'd get you a 500 ml bottle of real Coke and I'd buy you popcorn, too."
"Wow, that's sweet," I replied.
"Anything for my girlfriend."

It was the second time that he has called him his girlfriend. It's significant because we know that we're a couple, but he has never called me his girlfriend. Likewise, I have never called him my boyfriend. We know that we are in a loving, happy, meaningful relationship. We are important to each other. We simply know that. However, it was nice that he said that. He knows that he's my special guy.

I hugged him even tighter. He reciprocated. It's how we roll, I suppose.

My early Christmas gifts - shopping at Winners

Last Friday was a trying day for me. I felt sluggish, probably because I had worked hard at getting a number of tasks done the previous day and I hadn't fully recovered from it. The morning consisted of my not doing much. I just sat in front of my computer and read a few e-mails.

I got to work on Friday afternoon. It was nice to see my guy. Unfortunately, our boss had a last-minute task for both of us to do. We had to provide word counts of all our documents (me) and presentations (my guy).

The unfortunate part about my task is that the two largest sets of documentation are online help files, all in HTML. It's not like Word where you get your word count automatically. I ended up downloading a free copy of software that counts words for practically every possible file format. I was so happy.

I told my guy about it. He wanted a demo and came over to my desk. I showed him. He touched my shoulder blades and grabbed my right side, near my armpit. He is the only guy that I know who likes doing that. It's sweet and I like it.

He then moved to my left side. His hand went down my jeans to squeeze my left buttock. It has been quite some time since he has done that.

I had entered all my totals in a table and then sent the file to my guy. He entered his numbers in and sent everything to our boss, copying me, in an e-mail. We then quickly packed up and headed out the door.

My guy told a fellow colleague that there was shopping to be done. Yep, today was my early Christmas. We were headed to Winners to get me an outfit.

I offered to drive us. My guy put his stuff in his car. I pulled my car next to his car, waited for him to get in my car, and we were off to the local Winners.

My guy is fun to be with. He thinks that I'm equally as fun to hang out with.

"Are you wearing your seatbelt?" he asked him, groping my breasts with his hand.
"That was subtle," I said.
"I am just concerned about your safety," he admitted.
"Sure," I said, unconvinced.

At one point, our joking became so fun that I ended up pulling down the visor in my car, moving the shutter over to one side, and having him look at himself in the mirror to reveal who was being the "bad person." We laughed a lot.

After that, we drove holding hands to Winners. Our relationship feels like a high school one sometimes. I can't complain.

We had a fun time there. I had told my guy the other day that I needed a winter coat. He had picked out one that was what I had wanted. It was a double-breasted wool coat. He teased me about the double-breasted part the other day. I tried it on, but the coat was a bit tight. He was attempting to button the coat, but ended up feeling my breasts. Ah, how nice!

My guy has good taste. Although we didn't find any decent dress pants for me, he did manage to pick out seven different tops for me to try.

We went through some hideous ones.

"This one looks like a tennis ball," he stated, referring to the top's colour. "I want to take a paddle and smack it."
"That sweater does remind me of a tennis ball! Does it come in a pair of pants?" I asked him, hinting that he could smack my backside with that paddle.

My guy wanted to see me in every outfit when I was about to go into the ladies' fitting room. I told him that it would be a long night. Instead, I wore every outfit and took pictures using my camera phone. It was a first for me.

After I was done, I shared my pictures with my guy. I took a shot of my buttoning up a nice cardigan sweater, which revealed my black bra. He loved that photo. He looked at it longingly for a minute.

In the end, he bought me two tops. Yes, the cardigan that I wore over my black bra was a keeper. He also liked me in a striped, blue-and-white dress shirt.

We walked over to the cash register. He held my hand as we walked over there, with his other hand holding the two articles of clothing that he was about to buy for me. After that, we continued holding hands as we walked out the store and to my car.

It was a sweet evening. We got into my car and we kissed for a bit before we made the drive back to work.

Yep, we continued to hold hands. He is a sweet guy and I enjoy such moments with him. We continued to joke.

We got to the parking lot at work. I parked my car next to his. We kissed some more. He then whispered in my ear.

"On Monday, you are going to wear one of those articles of clothing, right?" he asked me with a stern tone in his voice.
"What if I don't?" I asked, challenging him.
"You know what will happen to you," he nodded. "I am giving you an option of choosing which outfit to wear first. Whether you wear it or not, you will be punished."

I wanted to hear that statement. We hugged and kissed a bit longer before he got out of my car and into his.

We both admitted that shopping was a lot of fun together. We normally don't go shopping for clothes together. We should more often.

Feels like high school, but we're at work, supposedly working

This post is late. I need to be dealt with. My tardiness is an issue. =)

Two Wednesdays ago, my guy and I were in a training session together. However, this week had a number of events that had occurred. The latest was that our medium-sized company that we worked for had been acquired by a rather large one.

The day before, there was an informal gathering about the news. Everyone in our training class completely missed this announcement. There was, however, going to be a formal rollout on Wednesday. Our manager indicated that we all had to be at this rollout, which was held at a hotel ballroom close by.

So, on Wednesday, my guy and I rode in a colleague's rented minivan. Our colleague was from the Chicago area and was also with us for training. He was nice to chat with. He had a new white iPhone 5. I got to hold it. It was impressive compared to my nearly three-year-old BlackBerry.

Anyway, my guy and I sat next to each other in the ballroom. Our relationship feels like we are high school kids. We seemed like insolent kids who just didn't care. It was partly because the vice president, who was describing the parent company, had a thick Italian accent and was based in Sweden. She was on a conference call in which the audio was poor. Whenever someone joined or left the conference, that person's name was announced to everyone that he had joined or left, respectively. It was highly annoying!

My guy was playing a number of games on his phone during the presentation. He first played a toss-the-crumpled-paper-ball-into-the-wastebasket game. He then played virtual pool, which he completely sucked at. I had to tease him. His sinking a ball by tilting his phone to will the ball into the pocket was not working. He scratched a number of times, which made me laugh. Then, he played some kind of twisted Tetris game that involved elements of nature.

There are moments where I want to put my guy over my knee and spank him. Today was one of them.

We cracked jokes throughout the entire presentation. I did something different, though. I had dropped my left hand between our chairs. I decided to touch the back of his thigh. My guy liked it. He actually moved his right calf closer. I caressed it for quite some time.

Eventually, I reached under his pant leg and felt his bare calf. It was nicely sculpted. I liked the feel of it. I did it discreetly. I could tell that my guy enjoyed every minute of it. Needless to say, I loved it, too.

We went back to the training room for the rest of the day. We occasionally showed signs of affection. He touched my thigh. I squeezed his. He came over and put his hand behind my back, which slide to my left buttock. He groped it. I was incredibly aroused.

It is rare for us to be in training together. I like it. I wish that we had training more often.

My guy told me afterwards that he thought that the day was special. I agreed. In fact, we both felt that the week was shaping up to be a memorable one.