Things have been quiet around the McBroden household. Mac has been either drained from the pain or sleeping off a shot of painkiller. Sarah has been tip-toeing around quietly, or laying with Him talking about nothing in particular and laughing about anything in general. The Dr says that the pain should be gone by today and He should be fine after taking it easy for a few more days.

It is during times like this that our strength as a couple comes to the forefront. When we can't be lovers, when He is too drained to be my protector, we are still the best of friends. It is such an important thing to share. It is there for us when we need it to be.

And whilst we can't be lovers in the sexual sense I am being totally spoilt with hugs, kisses and caresses that I sometimes complain that I don't get. Mac figures He has given so many in the past few days that He wont need to do it again until next year. There is something very entwining about lying naked next to Him and playing with His fingers while He drifts in and out of sleep. It is very beautiful, it's very relaxing and it is sweet.

Though He was ill, the weekend was still taken up by rugby. We managed to go watch my nephew's team and Mac's team play. Last year I kept rugby out of the blog because Mac had a rather short season. He had a knee injury at the start of it and managed a slight indiscretion in the middle that meant He missed the end.

They were playing a touring match against a South African team when Mac was sort of stomped on in a delicate place. The guy was trying to grind His family jewels into minced meat with his studs and Mac didn't take to kindly to that. He got up and decked him. It was a good punch, landed perfectly, but it was not as good as the acting done by the South African. He looked like a Shakespearean actor in his death throes. He staggered around clutching his face before toppling over.

The ref never saw the punch, but no one could have missed the South African's performance, so Mac was sent to an early shower and summoned to appear before the disciplinary committee. Of course the whole thing was caught on video, so we all knew that Mac would get a suspension for it, the only question was how long.

As He left for the hearing, I kissed Him on the cheek and told Him to remember to be polite. He could get away with 30 days, as He had never been before the committee before.

So while He was being admonished for un-sportsman like behaviour, He said just couldn't help Himself.

'It's all very well for YOU pal, it wasn't your wedding tackle that got stomped.' He said.

He later he told me that apparently you do not call chairmen of disciplinary committee 'pal'. Who would ever have figured that out? They gave Him a 60 day suspension then asked if He had anything to say.

'Can I keep the video?' He asked.

They gave Him an extra 30 days.

This year we are hoping that He will get to play a little more and I don't think I can leave out the affect it has on our lives. It seems to seep into every day. There are training sessions and the pub after training. There are the games and the pub after the game. There are team dinners and there are team workouts. There are fitness tests and of course the inevitable diet of muscle building food because Mac is too light. Every year we have to bulk Him up. I wish someone would tell me I need to put on weight. I can do that just by looking at a piece of chocolate.

Of course the other reason it has to make it into the blog is simply because I love it. I really do. I love watching Him play. It is what He does best and He plays with His heart as well as His body and mind. There is a passion in the Man I see on the field that most of the time no one else gets to see and there is something rather sexy about hearing a crowd roar for your Man.

And after the game it can take hours and hours of hot rough sex to sate the testosterone and adrenaline He feels. All I can do is smile softly and sacrifice myself to His lust. Good job I don't mind being used.

So while you won't get a blow by blow account of every game, you can expect some mention of rugby around here for a while, even if it is nothing more than the tale of how He groped me after the game. (It is usually the first thing He does when He gets in the car.)

Rugby season. I am ready.

I just hope He is fit enough to play soon.