It’s a couple of hours before our guests arrive for Thanksgiving dinner. The turkey is smoking, the cranberry sauce, mashed sweets, stuffing. and other food is done or ready to finish. I have a bit of time to write my post before the next cooking steps. Mrs. Lion is busy cleaning. We’re in good shape for the feast. Our dog has done a good job staying mostly out of the way. We are the perfect vanilla family.
I got thanksgiving greetings from some of my boarding school classmates. It’s nice to look back. It wasn’t always so nice to live. Ahh, the joy of distance! My senior roommate wants to get together when I go east. I’ll love that. Mrs. Lion is also planning to accompany me on a trip. Maybe we can put that together so the three of us can be there at the same time.
Our deck is covered with dead leaves and other natural detritus. Shoes get covered with the wet muck and can track into Mrs. Lion’s clean kitchen. I put an extra mat at the door. That reminded me that we haven’t seen the nasty punishment stool in quite a while. Mrs. Lion nodded and told me that a visit can certainly be arranged. Dumb lion!
Last night, the night before Thanksgiving, was sling night. Mrs. Lion accompanied me down to the dungeon and into the sling I went. There was some ball swatting with a small wooden spoon and then a little. The finale was a great blowjob resulting in my 52nd orgasm this year. Boy Skippy! It was great. This time the wait was an easy four days. Mrs. Lion told me that I deserved a short wait after breaking our record. She felt the need to point out that all my waits wouldn’t be this brief. I rolled my eyes.
Mrs. Lion let me sleep late. We both woke up at 7:30AM. Mrs. Lion went to the bathroom and I rolled over. Next thing I knew, it was almost 10AM. Mrs. Lion’s side of the bed was empty. She didn’t go back to sleep. I still don’t feel too rested. I visited the doctor on Friday and he prescribed a short, five-day flight of Prednisone. After only the first two pills, I am not itchy. Hopefully, the drug will help my autoimmune system reset.
I also showed the doctor a small lump just above my right nipple. He is pretty sure it isn’t cancer, but he had me schedule a mammogram next week. I can see all our female readers nodding, “Now he’ll see what it is like to be a woman!” Hardly. But it will feel odd in the waiting room when my name is called. Man oh manogram!
Now, I just have to finish dinner prep and pray that our guests don’t wear perfume.