I get a text from Phillip while I’m at work.
Phillip: Naughty Dream Week is fun.
Me: Glad you think so.
Phillip: It’s also making me like one of Pavlov’s dogs.
Me: How so?
Phillip: I’m horny, just thinking about what’s coming up tonight.
Me: Coming up? LOL! Pun intended?
Phillip: You’re bad. Yes, and no. I wanna know what we’re doing tonight.
Me: I can’t tell you!
Phillip: But I need a hint. 🙁
Me: Hmmm … okay … there will be lots of snacking involved.
Phillip: Snacking? Are you my snack? 😉
Me: Can’t tell …
Later, he wants to know more.
Phillip: Are we pretending it’s Friday night, we just got home from a football game, and you’re gonna make us nachos and popcorn?
Me: I don’t know. Did any of your naughty dreams include Danny? ’Cause I don’t think he’d be down for that.
Phillip: Is that a no?
Me: That’s a no.
Phillip: I really need another hint.
Me: Fine. Think warm summer nights.
Phillip: Are we gonna drink from a keg in a cornfield and go parking again?
Me: Nope. 🙂
Phillip: One more hint, please!
Me: Think younger. Middle school, backyard kind of nights.
Phillip: Are we going CAMPING?
Me: Maybe …
Yesterday, Phillip’s mother didn’t cooperate with my plans. Today, the weather isn’t cooperating. I was gonna set up Phillip’s old tent, but it poured this morning. The ground is still a soggy, muddy mess. So, during my lunch break, I buy a shiny new tent. I take it home and set it up in my living room.
At the store, they don’t actually have the tents set up. They just have these little dollhouse-sized versions. They’re adorable. The tent I picked out is so cute. It’s green with two rooms and a skylight—but it’s maybe slightly bigger than I expected it to be.
Okay, it’s a lot bigger than I envisioned.
Phillip used to tease me about my inability to calculate distances. About how there was no way I would ever be able to design anything.
I would always say back, “You know why women are bad at measurements, don’t you?”
He’d turn red and say, “Shut up,” because he knew what I was gonna say.
I’d always finish the joke anyway, holding my fingers about three inches apart and saying, “That’s ’cause guys always tell us that this is six inches.”
Danny was never embarrassed by that joke; in fact, he often fired back, “Only looks like about an inch to me.” Of course, implying that he’s huge. Let’s just say, Danny has a big ego and leave it at that.
To get the tent to fit, I have to move the couch up against the kitchen table. It’s also blocking the hallway, so you have to climb over the back of it to get to the bathroom, but that’s a minor detail. I focus on making the tent a den of seduction. I climb over the couch, strip the comforter and blanket off my bed, and spread them across the tent floor. Then, I add every pillow and throw that I own.
After work, I make up bowls of all Phillip’s favorite middle school candy and a batch of popcorn, and I fill a small cooler with beer. I change into little pajama boxers and a tight tank top. I even go sans bra just for the heck of it, and before I know it, Phillip’s home.
My plan is to pretend like we’re in middle school. We’ll eat popcorn, munch on candy, drink some beer, and I’ll challenge him to a game of strip poker. We’ll play cards and slowly get naked. Phillip will be so overwhelmed with desire for me; he won’t be able to control himself. He’ll attack me, and it’ll be amazing.
My plan goes astray the second Phillip walks in the door and runs straight into the tent. He backs up and laughs at the huge tent in the middle of the living room. He looks so darn cute. I just can’t help myself; I tell him, no clothing allowed, strip that boy naked, and lead him into the tent.
