Heart Wedge - Ibiza Collection, Ocean Blue

The missus is not a fan of change. So that leaves it up to me to surprise her with whatever novelty I think will get a rise out of her but not have me sleeping in the back yard. So, enter this lovely decorative pillow. The magic to this little gem is that it is unassuming enough that I managed to have it nearby while the control freak in the relationship and myself engaged in the liberties afforded to us by our marital bliss. Just about the time we had a nice rhythm going I jumped up on my knees and began attempting to yank her high enough to slide the once pristine pillow under her der·ri·ère. This resulted in a scene which looked much like a lone fisherman wrestling a very large salmon out of the water with his left hand while attempting to keep heavy items from shifting off center of the canoe with his right hand. This amazing pillow was performing exactly as I had hoped. I had learned over the years that as much as the love of my life hates change, when surprised and angered and exposed to a new idea at just the right intensity and pace, she doesn't have enough time to block out the newfound pleasures I am introducing. So here we were. My left shoulder screaming from pain, her right hip pulled forward like a frustrated chiropractor finally made that adjustment that boosted his ego and put a few dollars in his bank account. I could feel the rage building just as I new was needed to pull this feat of wonder off. With my last bit of core strength I managed the pillow under her cul de sacs of glory and collapsed on top of her driving the old Pontiac straight in to the back wall of the garage causing a thud that was heard and felt by both of us. Knowing I was now not only going to sleep in the back yard but likely would be hosting the pillow in my der·ri·ère, I began to struggle to get up off of the woman of my dreams but the absurd rake that our loins were lock in due to the ridiculous lift provided by the pillow prevented me from lifting my torso up. In a panic, I began to swim with my feet as though I were losing that large salmon I was previously struggling to land. And then the magic of this all came together as we did as well. The salamander like action of my legs cause me to gently slide my bride's head off the side of the bed, and as she attempted not to fall off the bed she inadvertantly shifted her pelvic floor allowing my , let's be honest, (Chevy Chevette), to repeatedly strike something neither one of us knew existed. Maybe the back wall of the garage was broken free from the foundation and maybe some sort of electrical short occurred with each pendulous swing of that wall causing a parade of sparks and sounds and colors and speakings of tongues. I may never know what exactly happened for her for the next 60 seconds as she saw colors and sparks and indeed was speaking in tongue. By the time I thrusted my pelvis enough times to get off of her and run, she just laid there spent and gleaming like a Tesla that just exhausted the last 1.2 volt cell of it's battery pack. I took a moment to consider my next move. Dare I cuddle with her? Should I write a lengthy apology in cursive with a quill pen? Her mumblings of gibberish became more normal and she began to chatter about how wonderful our lovemaking had her feeling. I realized she had little recollection of the the wicked events that just unfolded at my hands. I grabbed the pillow and stowed it away in the trunk of my Pontiac figuring I best bust it out only once every two years like a Disney movie. All in, this was a massive success that couldn't have been achieved without that beautiful gem of a pillow. Absolutely 5 Stars for the pillow, but I did lower the rating to 4 Stars as the pillow has picked up a musty odor after 6 months in the trunk of the old Pontiac. Damn shame because I really wanted to rate this thing a little higher.