Had some time to myself while on vacation this morning, cooking in the dreary morning quiet while everyone else was asleep or out. I let my mind wander a bit…daydreaming that I was cooking up something delicious for a lover instead, someone soft and beautiful and fat. Maybe I’d feel their rounded stomach press into the small of my back even before I felt their arms wrap around me from behind. They’d nuzzle my hair out of the way with their nose so they could rest their face close to my neck, plant a kiss there. Inhale both my perfume and the decadent aroma of eggs, bacon, and toast…and if I’m fantasizing already, a pile of pancakes and hashbrowns too, just for them.
Is it so much to ask to want to cook a huge meal, made with far too much love and far too much butter and cream, for someone who is starving for it?
