And that’s why my nipples were hard…

Protecting the masses from my nipples.

  
NOT because I was all het up.   But because it was 12 freaking degrees in our house.   We got home from a weekend visiting my parents and walked into a house where I’m pretty sure I could see my breath.  And, as a direct consequence, my breasts.  Well, at least my nipples.  On account of the fact that my nipples were frozen into temperature sensitive bullets letting the world at large know that I was freezing.  And this, through a t-shirt bra this is supposed to hide one’s nipples…  I was THAT cold.

Our boiler’s automatic pilot light conked out.  So that meant that until Monday morning, we were wearing longjohns, pjs, bathrobes, extra socks with slippers and afghans.  (The blankets, not the dogs… although a big-ass hairy dog (or two) would have been great to have had on my lap.)  We lit a fire in our incredibly inefficient fireplace, cooked pizzas with the oven door open, filled the bathtub with near-boiling water and had space heaters pumping heat in our bedrooms.  I held a hot chocolate between my hands and, after consuming it, put my mittens back on.

Always the problem solvers, David and I decided to use some extra one-on-one friction last night… you know… to stay EXTRA warm.  There was no point in wasting those hard nipples, right?