dessert’s on me
I had a friend over for dinner last night. I felt his eyes upon me with every bite I took, and finally asked if there was something wrong with my cooking. “No,” he replied “…you just look so delectable by the candlelight, it’s hard for me to think of anything else.” I looked at him and the table, without saying a word… Eric watched as I cleared away the dishes, and then motioned me to sit on the table before him. I still tremble with delight thinking of the things he did to me with the champagne on ice, the candles, and a few things from the kitchen