Does anyone besides me remember the scene from the television series Moonlighting where Cybill Shepard FINALLY turns the chemistry into a full on explosion in Bruce Willis’s test tube, so to speak? They cleared a table of some sort and experimented. While I can certainly appreciate the heat, passion, and flexibility such moments require, I find the table sex idea less appealing than I did years ago. Don’t get me wrong, new playgrounds are always fun…depending on the equipment available…but my kitchen just doesn’t inspire me. My husband, on the other hand, seems to ooze desire as soon as he sees me washing a dish or stirring a pot. He even pounces when I have sharp objects in my hand and daggers flashing from my eyes. What is that about? I don’t get turned on if I see him unplugging the toilet–even with the slurpy sucking sounds and rhythmic thrusts–so why does he get all bothered when he sees me scrubbing a pot? They say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, which, I suppose, means the kitchen is a form of foreplay. Maybe it’s my age, but give me a a nice dinner out instead of a counter full of dishes to wash, and then we can get cooking. 🙂
Raphael Afan says
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