Home Alone

I am free as far as messing with the little guy is concerned. I can do to him, with him, or he can do to me whatever our fertile imagination provides. Yet, it is not as good as it would be with MW.

MW is off on her annual week’s stay with her friends at a nearby resort. I drove her there and moved all their luggage and stuff into the units that they were to occupy. We had a nice dinner in the main unit, and, as usual, I spoke many words of double meanings and they were understood. They know that I am a horny bastard ready to be used. With wine and spirits I may have had an excuse for my wise-ass comments. I assumed that MW would punish me for them, but she let me get away with them for now. That is both good and bad. I stayed overnight, and left mid-morning the next day to go home to allow the lovely ladies enjoying a few days of vacation.

I am now at home alone. I can indulge in my right hand gratification as much as I want. If she were to ask about it later, I would tell her. If she did not, it will remain between me and the little guy. I miss her. Her absence reminds me of how much I love to be with her.