I can smell the storm on the horizon, although it seems increasingly unlikely that it will grace us with its presence. I've been waiting for that one great storm for years now - the weather in Illinois has tended towards blizzard conditions instead of raging thunderstorms - but the systems always flirt by us like the high school prom queen.

We did, however, get seismic activity which I'm sure would have been amazing had I awakened from my semi-comatose (and deliciously dreamlike) sleep. It was a 5.2 on the Richter scale, which sounded impressive to me until Bear - in his usually deadpan demeanor - reminded me that he didn't even get out of bed for any quakes under 6.0 in California.

I did elicit some bed-shaking of my own yesterday evening, though. Due to Bear's back and our increasingly platonic romantic relationship (not that I entirely mind, however, although that fact mildly disturbs me), we haven't had sex in months.

I was unsure he was asleep but his back has been spasming more than usual lately and I wasn't in the mood to get told no, so I took care of business myself (so to speak). I think that the orgasms I have when I don't move a muscle, where my pleasure dances along every nerve in my body as I attempt not to squirm or gasp out, rank very high on my Richter scale.

And no, I won't tell you who or what I was thinking about. That may ruin your entire vision of me. *grin*