by Christopher Eaton
My wife and I have been together long enough that what should be between us in bed is a decent interval.
I can appreciate that “early on,” couples might want to engage in touching. Even at the risk of children. But at some point, personal space needs to be allowed back into the sleeping arrangement.
Many couples resort to a dog to reestablish spouse-free zones in bed, only to find themselves later united against the dog.
Our problem began with my wife’s ass. It’s a nice ass—during the day. At night, though, it is transformed into a marauder, conquering the linen expanse of our shared bed, relentlessly seeking out warmth. You see, my wife sleeps cold, while I sleep hot. And once my wife falls asleep, she gets colder. That’s when her ass takes over.