For those that know me, I don't sleep a lot. I stay up late and start early in the morning.
Most people will spend about one third or more of their life asleep, for me I think it will be less than a quarter. Granted it is probably not healthy but that is a whole other issue.
Despite this I love a good bed. The mattress on my workbench is one of my most indulgent purchases and I smile every time I slide between the sheets as it embraces me. Until recently.
I have discovered an old lover. She was long forgotten and relegated to the too hard basket of bedroom conflicts. Now I find her in my mind, tickling my fancy and making me wonder if I could go back to her.
That 70's/80's fad, the water bed has re-entered my life.
Walk back in time with me for a moment. At about age ten, my parents upgraded from a single bladder, hard sided water bed to a baffled, soft sided model. After some begging and pleading I got myself the queen sized cast off.
So began a love affair that ended in the way of all great Greek tragedies....well minus the sodomy.
For those that have not enjoyed a water bed I must explain the attraction. First of all is the temperature. Water beds are heated but the key here is that with careful adjustment with the seasons you can tweak them to the perfect temperature.
In winter, you make it slightly warm so that when you get under the covers there is no shivering or squealing as your nut sack hits the cold sheets. Better still, in the hot Aussie summers you can dial the temperature down a little so that the bed actually draws heat from your body meaning you can comfortably sleep through a 35 degree night with the covers on, never breaking a sweat.
The second benefit is the support. I can't explain it any other way except to say that there are no pressure points and to me it just feels magical. The bed hugs you back.
Finally there is the wave assist when making the sex. It is the original green power solution, where every third stroke is free. Seriously, if you get your timing right it is bloody amazing.
Having said that, it can be a bit like having an extra partner in the room because if you forget that this is a three way team it can get pear shaped pretty quick and normally ends in an accidental head butt, bruised kidneys or a chipped tooth.
The sea is an unforgiving mistress and water beds are a close relative.
So back to the original story.
I had a few years waiting for the first pube to sprout after getting my first water bed, then a few more waiting for a girl to appreciate the idea. There was then more time wasted waiting for my parents to not be at home and the girl to be in the right place, right mood and well you get the idea.
Fortunately I was young, flexible and had good balance. In no time at all I had mastered the bed and the novelty value of being the only boy with a queen sized water bed paid dividends.
Then the romance soured.
Girlfriend after girlfriend balked at the idea of a lifetime of water bed goodness. Despite an upgrade to a wave less model, like princesses of old the bed was too hard, too soft, too difficult to get out of or too scary to make love in. My attachment to my bed and resolve that I would find a woman that loved the water bed as much as me finally failed in about 2000 with my move to Melbourne.
With a tear and the exchange of cash, my bed went to a spotty teenager with a grin and sense of adventure. I knew I was selling him a bitter sweat pill but some things just have to be learnt the hard way.
Over time, the pain of the loss faded as I came to grips with a normal bed. The cold sheets and sweaty nights became the norm and she was forgotten. Relegated to the rose coloured memories of milk in bottles and near misses with fireworks.
Until recently.
The girl is tall and wears short skirts. She is a master of 3.5 inch heels and is as graceful dancing in them as she is just walking down the street. Her hair reaches her bum but looks as great up as it does down. Spilled over a pillow it is worthy of a photo shoot.
She is smart and has a wicked sense of the naughty. I thought she may be out of my league but I am always up for a challenge. A few dates in and I was back at her apartment with things going swimmingly when she got a serious look on her face.
"I have to warn you about something before we get to the bedroom..."
Oh fuck I thought...she's got the clap...or her period...I hope it is just her period.....
"My bed, is well, not normal. It can take some getting used to"
No...it can't be...."Different how?" I asked trying to hide my excitement.
"It moves..."
"Vibrates or ripples?" I asked, gently chewing on my lower lip in anticipation.
"Ripples....it can be a little tricky until you learn how to use it to your advantage."
"I think I love you...." I just blurted it out like an amateur, nearly blowing with excitement.
Needless to say it was like riding a bike. The bed, not her. She is like a freaking bronco but the bed is like an old friend.
To be honest I am yet to just slip into it and fall asleep without an hour or more of aerobics but I wake feeling more refreshed, happy and rested than I have in years.
I could almost put up with just about any nonsense from this girl for no other reason than that bed. It has me staying away from home at nights and driving an hour to work rather than the 5 minutes from my own house.
Crazy stuff this thing called love.
I am not one to whine but seriously this is pissing me off.
