So I woke up on March 14 feeling amazing. I knew from twitter hashtags and other social media outlets that today was Steak and BJ Day. Ah yes, the day where I get to lay back and do nothing but let my penis poke towards the ceiling so Venice could admire it. I look over to Venice laying next to me and grab her wrist so I can guide her hand to my hard penis. I was smiling at her as she grabbed my manhood and kind of winked a little bit. She made a happy expression as she touched me but quickly changed her look and asked why I was smiling so much. I laughed a bit and said, “Well, today is Steak and BJ Day and I’m already doing my part.”
She looked back at me and responded, “What’s that supposed to mean to me?” She continued to stroke my dick as she waited for my answer.
I took the smile off my face and explained, “It’s steak and bj day. Today is my valentine.” I smiled again and reached over to grab her head and guide her down into my lap.
She moved my hand and started negotiating with me, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop sucking your dick every day like I normally do, and instead give you a BJ on this so called holiday. How does that sound? Otherwise, I want you to take this hard dick in my hand and stick it inside my pussy and fuck me good.”
I guess that kind of put things in perspective. Instead of getting a BJ, I got up and used my dick the way she wanted it used, and later that night I ate her homemade Chili.
I married a rebel. TAGS: steak and bj day, steak and blow job day

My excitement had been building exponentially as I planned to get a tattoo. Not a cute little heart on my wrist or a narwhal on my ass cheek. But something big, loud, and in-your-face. Ryan has told me many times that tattoos on a woman are hot, especially sleeves or legs. I had a tattoo before I met Ryan, but not in either of those places. So to hear him say that makes me say, “I love tattoos, and I want another one, so why not get it where my man wants it?”
I said goodbye to Ryan as I was leaving out the door, one foot not quite fully in my high heel. I turned my ankle to maneuver it in and twisted the door knob opening the door connecting the kitchen hallway to the garage. “Love you,” I called out one last time; Ryan responded with the same words. I looked up from the ground and my eyes met those of the neighborhood dog that lived about eight houses up the street. I don’t know its name, but I know this dog. Many times I’ve had to slow my car to an idle as it pranced across the street seemingly oblivious to vehicles zooming by it. At the moment, however, it was standing in the center of our garage between Ryan’s weight bench and an abandoned sugar bear cage.
I’ve mentioned before that I once read a sex blogger suggest that a way for a couple to spice up their sex life is to have a threesome. I cannot emphasize enough how detrimental that is. A threesome for a 20-something couple who’ve been dating for six months and still text in emojis is not the same as a threesome for a married couple who’ve been married 15+ years and have talked extensively about the logistics and repercussions. I’m not saying that every couple reacts a certain way to threesomes; it depends on the length of time together, their experience, their history, their levels of maturity, etc. What I am saying is that couples in healthy relationships are less susceptible to the fallout of a life-changing decision such as a threesome. I refused to stay in the mindset of a little girl when my relationship with and marriage to my husband. So I write this blog in an effort to offer some insight to other women (and men) who’ve given any thought to allowing others into their bed.
For fun, Venice and I have created a list of 10 things a man should not say on her first date. If you have not already seen our previous blog,