For you…

The first boy I ever loved and I are still in touch. He lives in the UK, we catch up when we are anywhere in proximity, which of course isn’t often.

A recent situation reminded me of a sweet moment with him, of which there are many. Sweet moments, I mean.

He had invited some of his friends over for dinner. He was cooking. I was hovering in the kitchen with him, sipping a cold glass of white wine, avoiding having to socialise.

He was madly busy; chopping, mixing, checking things on the stove, in the oven. I always enjoyed watching him create food. It was wonderfully sexy.

He had me taste something. I’ve forgotten what it was. Delicious. He was a wonderful cook.

“Mmm… yum! They will love it…”, I said.

He paused in the maelstrom of activity and looked at me.

“I don’t care what they think,” he said. “I’m making this for you.”


There might have been kissing after that.

Loves: 15
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