River is off taking an exam for school and I’m left doing dinner. She’s put out some recipes for me. Chili and cornbread. The cornbread recipe is on the back of the cornmeal box, which I find strangely appealing. River got a great recipe off the back of a cracker box once.

So I make the cornbread, and I’m working on the chili. The only hard part is finding the onion. The onion rack that used to hang from the ceiling is long gone, and I look all over the kitchen for one before I realize that River has very sweetly left one out on the counter for me with some of the other ingredients. Sigh.

River comes home. Her exam went well enough. “That cornbread looks good.” “You can have some.” She cuts a piece and tries it. “It’s better than mine. How’d you do that?” This reminds me of how she says her coffee tastes better when I make it. And I don’t even drink coffee. Last time she said that, I remembered that I’d forgotten to stir it before I put the plunger on the French press. How it could possibly turn out better is beyond me.

“Some things are better when you don’t have to do all the work yourself.” Then I suddenly remember how she likes it when I “do all the work” when we fuck — on top, beside her, behind her somehow. To be honest, which I try to be, I don’t do all the work.  She wiggles and fucks back and puts her hands and legs in interesting places and makes appreciative sounds that I really seem to like.

But I have to ask. “Hey, is that why you like me to do all the work when we fuck?”

She just smiles.


8 thoughts on “Cornbread

    • Hi Liza! Sadly(?), after four years I think I’ve pretty much run my course as both a blog reader and writer. So don’t expect too much :-). I hope things are going well with you and yours, and maybe — maybe — I’ll have an overwhelming urge to stop by and see whether you’ve been visiting any sex clubs lately. I wouldn’t want to read about just anybody’s experiences, you know.

  1. It’s true! Food does taste better when someone else makes it for you. I think fucking feels better when you fuck back though and do some of the work. Don’t think I’d be able to cum if I didn’t bump and grind…

    • Burnout. Asocial tendencies. Not getting enough out of it. Too much account identity juggling. I don’t even want to take the time to remember how to log in here or recover my password. But don’t worry. River and I are still fucking.

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