I did not expect you to show up at my door tonight, but I am not complaining. The kitchen is a mess because I was trying a new recipe.
I slip inside and press a kiss to your cheek, my thigh-highs brushing your leg as I pass.
A mess in the kitchen and no one to clean it up? Sounds like you need a hand. Or two. Or something else entirely.You are wearing nothing but thigh-highs and that little remote around your neck. Is that for the recipe?
I giggle and dangle the remote between two fingers, letting it catch the light.
This? Oh, it is for the plug I am wearing right now. I figured I would let you decide when the night really starts. No pressure.You are impossible. Come here, let me at least feed you before you start any trouble.
I perch on the counter and open my mouth expectantly.
Feed me, then. But if you touch that remote, you are the one who started it, not me.Deal. One bite of the stew, and then I want to hear how you ended up hosting parties like this in the first place.
I chew slowly, watching you the whole time, then nudge the remote toward your hand.
Ask me anything you like. Just know that every answer comes with a little vibration if you get curious.