Thank you, BBC, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman.
You're welcome ... ?
At the end of December, my wife took a few days off and she spent most of her time reading on her iPad. No surprise there, really. One night, after our son went to bed (natch), she said, "Let's go upstairs so I can blow you."
To any man who has been married for fourteen years like me, this is a rare thing to be spoken aloud. Blowjob went very well, as most do. (She was on her period so there wouldn't be any further shenanigans.)
Next night, after quite some time spent reading, she says, "Let's go have sex."
Again, I responded with a grin and an, "OK."
The next night? Same thing.
Now, come on. As I wrote about in Sexcalation, quantity of sex has always been an issue I had. I love having sex with my wife and it's always good-to-great. Being a man, though, and since our work schedules have always been so opposite, it's been difficult to get "enough."
But three days in a row? Unheard of. Not since the ancient days of our engagement has such a thing occurred. (Maybe first year of marriage.)
Then three became four. And five. Six. As I type, we've now had sex ten days in a row.
I blew threw what should have been three months worth of condoms. I need to see if our insurance covers vasectomies.
What's going on?
One day while she was reading, my eyes drifted to her reading and I saw the word "Sherlock." Yes. We both watched the BBC series and enjoyed it quite a bit.
Her more than me, apparently.
For the last two weeks, she's been reading Sherlock slash fiction. Do you know what that is? It's fan fiction written so two male characters in a popular show hook up. It started quite some time ago with people who wanted to see Kirk and Spock get it on.
I wasn't kidding.
Do I mind that my wife is getting wet reading stories about Sherlock and Watson getting it on at 221 B Baker Street while Moriarty watches? Shit no. Because I get to reap the benefits.
Last night, after distracting our child with TV and locking our bedroom door (I installed a basic door hook thing just the other day because of this), we lay in bed about to get things going. She asked, "Do you think you'll get tired of having sex every day?"
"Seriously? You can say that without hesitating?"
I thought for a second and said, "Barring illness ... yes. I'm pretty sure I won't ever get tired of this."
"Not for the foreseeable future. How about that?"
Later on, she remembered the news story from a couple of years ago about a married couple who embarked on an experiment to have sex every day of the year. Except for a couple of illnesses, they very nearly did.
We haven't explicitly stated a goal of doing this, but I have a feeling it's going there. She's still reading the slash fic. I'm still finding ways of occupying our son for twenty minutes.
Maybe if it all works out, this could become my next sexy book.
I'll let you know.