For those of you keeping score at home, it was a year ago today that The Nymph and I started living together. As I told her yesterday, it’s been the best year of my life.

I still can’t believe how lucky I am that we found each other.

Although it has turned out that I mostly prefer to focus this blog on the activities of other people, it is worth noting that it’s been six very happy months at Casa ErosBlog since The Nymph moved in with me. We remain deeply in love, and life together is very very good.

An aside for the gentlemen: It is true that no sensible woman expects you to remember or celebrate six month “anniversaries”. However, from this truth, it most emphatically does not follow that you should disregard such dates, in the unlikely (but lucky for you) event that your ponderous bear-like brain should happen to alert you to one. Rather, procure and deliver some small trinket. Trust me on this one.

Several of you have emailed with the comment that the blogging here is of a lower quality lately, and I’d cheerfully have to agree. One possible explanation is that frolicking with The Nymph has blunted the keenest part of whatever horny edge I once brought to the sex blogging project. However, for the most part, I blame lack of time. The aforesaid frolicking is certainly a factor, but I’m also engaged in a significant reorganization of what I do to pay my bills. That’s eating a lot of my remaining free time in the short run, but in the long run it should (fingers crossed) free up more time for frolicking, blogging, and general whatnot, while simultaneously (crossing toes now) improving the cash flow picture.

So do please hang in there. I may spend another month or three stuck in this “one desultory link per day” blog mode, but I hope to resume normal service by high summertime.

It is often the case that the Nymph snoozes on a bit in the morning after I’m up and drinking my coffee and sitting quietly at my computer. Usually she’s under a flannel sheet, but sometimes she tosses and turns and casts it off. Her resultant state of sleepily abandoned undress is always worth beholding.

I cannot deny a sort of theoretical temptation to take pictures of her like that and show them to you. But That Would Be Wrong.

More to the point, it might make her unhappy, and I’m not going there.

She stirs…

This morning at ErosBlog Central I was pouring my second cup of coffee when The Nymph began to wake up.

So I wandered over to the bed to kiss her. After that essential business was taken care of, I was standing by the bed, sipping my coffee, and watching her wake up as we made desultory conversation. (Also, I was amusing myself by tugging at the sheet she was attempting, fruitlessly, to cover herself with.)

I ask her: “So what do you want to do today?”

A: “I need to go to the store.”

Q: “Oh yeah? What for?” (Translation for aliens: “What items do you need to go to the store to get?”)

A: “I need a couple of items.”

Whereupon your researcher abandoned all further attempts to communicate with this alien via ordered sound waves. Instead, I rousted her from her nest by vigorous application of this essential tool to the bottoms of her feet.

She had it coming. No male jury would convict me.

I realize (as if the comments and emailed queries could allow me not to) that some of you want more frequent updates about The Nymph and our lubricious shenanigans. I’m sorry to have disappointed by my silence, but it’s hard to type a good substantive update (as opposed to the facile “a link and a quote” entries with which I have been fobbing you all off) when she leans over from her adjacent computer chair and starts (as she puts it) “kissing on” me. I’m sure you understand….

Too, we remain in that stage where we spend a lot of time being sappy together, which is enormous fun but doesn’t make for great reportage. Everything is going very well indeed, and despite having moved a great distance so that we can be together, she remains her happy and loveable self. She’s got a job lined up and has met (and been approved, not that it matters) by the local members of my family. Life is good.

Oh yes, and one other thing: the folks at Eros Boutique, being persistent folks with a lot of great merchandise to market, sent along another box with an additional assortment of promising-looking vibrators. So we’ve got product testing to worry about. Ah, the burden of research! Details to follow.

So we were out grocery shopping today, looking for the goodies needed to help her feel at home in my our kitchen. Suddenly she’s holding up a Dawn Power Dish Brush and saying “Hey, this will help me get those glasses clean that I can’t fit my hand into….”

I take one look at this buzzing rotating pile of bristles (“a battery-powered, rotating bristle tool that redefines the way you do dishes”) and raise an eyebrow. “If we take that home, you think it’s ever going to make it to the kitchen?” She thought about it for a second, and laughed… and put it into the cart anyway. There’s a reason I love this woman.

Hey now, who am I to give her a second warning?

Fast forward an hour: after a quick wrestle, she’s face down on the bed, and I’m sitting on the edge with a calf clamped firmly in my right armpit and the sole of a bare foot imprisoned in front of me. Boy, do those rotating brushes get a good reaction! All three free limbs thumping the bedding, and a muffled “please oh please stop” coming from behind me somewhere. Or something like that, it’s hard to tell between all the laughing.

Eventually she found a way to distract me from my evil fun. Eight dollars well spent!