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By Emmuttmax
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03 September 2008 |
Thank Odin this is mercifully short.
Spoon Hair
From the very first time I shared a bed with a woman, I realized I would never be able to sleep with her if she insisted on spooning.
It’s not that I don’t like spooning; the feel of a woman’s body nestled into mine as we make the double fetal position is satisfying on several levels. The shared, tender intimacy helps one escape the world and melt into a peaceful reverie. Unfortunately, for me at least, that reverie lasts all to briefly, and sleep eludes me until I can break away and move the to back-to-back position. It is not a psychological cause that spurs me to break contact with my bedmate; it is, in fact, her hair on my face.
The strands of protein—long or short--sprouting from someone’s head and making contact with my face is like fingernails scraping a blackboard, like two knives being drawn along each other’s sharp edges; it is a source of irritation my brain cannot dismiss. Thin strands of hair trail along any part of my face cancels the sleep mode circuitry in my skull. The buzzing of tiny gnats could not disturb me more. You could shove an Amy Winehouse wig into my face during lovemaking, and it wouldn’t bother me at all, but post-coital slumber will remain elusive as long as one stray strand lands between my ears, chin and brow.
For years, I wore a beard, and my own facial hair had no effect on my sleep. Very odd.
I’ve tried to talk Mrs. Em into shaving her head, but had as much luck as when I tried to talk her into shaving other parts of her body. I think might start seeing bald women on the side just so I can get some sleep.
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Written by Abigail (29 comments posted) 3rd September 2008 | 'I’ve tried to talk Mrs. Em into shaving her head, but had as much luck as when I tried to talk her into shaving other parts of her body.'
Very Funny |
Written by Veronica_Milvus (751 comments posted) 3rd September 2008 | That's a shame, that you don't like hair on your face like that. Either she could wear a shower cap or you will have to spoon the other way round.
With me, it is the touch of foam rubber that does that chalk on a blackboard thing, but luckily it is not a sensation I encounter often, unless I am called upon to stuff cushions... eeeeewwwwww!!! |
Written by coosh (923 comments posted) 5th September 2008 | | Chapter 2. The sun rose over his new hang-out, the chemotherapy centre... You have a great ability to draw the reader into your "nonsensical" logic, in part because the germ of the idea is, as it were, "perfectly reasonable"(!!). Left a fascinating image of your conversations with Mrs. Em. Very much enjoyed - now where's that carbonated eau de parfum you promised me?... |
Written by Phil (6963 comments posted) 6th September 2008 | Lovely bit of writing.
Enjoyed the end - would possibly have left the last sentence out.
Out of interest - while hair on your face during lovemaking doesn't bother you - surely anything Amy related would result in droop? Ergh.
Always a good read.
Phil |
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