The M.I.L.F. Man

Maybe I'll stop laughing at silly love songs now...

Cici wrapped her arms around me from behind and said, "I came over here to talk to you..."

So I turned away from the sheet of puff pastry that I'd set out to thaw while I was making her the most lavish dinner I'd taken on in years...

And kissed her on the nose and said, "You have!"

"I have not! Because my mouth's been full of food for, like...the past two hours!"

She wasn't really angry though. I knew because she had also been clinging to me like that, from behind, while I cooked and cleaned up from cooking, the entire time. Not talking.

And I loved it. To be adored so unabashedly—she was guileless, this girl. Held nothing back, had no "ulterior" motives because she stated her motives, acted on her feelings, instantly and without shame or fear.

So when I turned back to the task at hand and she slid her hands down into my front pockets, I said, "Be careful what you ask for..."

And she peered around my side, winked and said, "I'm not asking."

So I held up the two giant bars of Cadbury's chocolate I was about to place in the middle of that puff pastry and said, "But soooo much chocolate, though..."

And she gave Chubby's head a little squeeze and said, "Play fair!"

"Well, you certainly don't. Now look what you've done."

She took her hands out...peeked around my side...and said, "Well, I mean, he was the dessert I was actually hoping for. Until you held that up."

I reached back to give her wonderful ass a little squeeze and then diagonally scored the flaps of pastry that lay around the sides of the chocolate bars, so that I could fold little strips in. They would make a braid design over the top of the chocolate. Which would melt in the oven as the pastry puffed and flaked up...

When she saw the finished product soon after, she moaned, reached toward the cookie sheet I was carrying it on and said, "Marry me..."

And as I slid the golden treat onto a platter and held it up over her head as a tease, I said, "I can't, can I?"

And she rolled her eyes and groaned, "Yes, I fucked up!"

"Truth hurts, huh? No chocolate for you!"

She slapped my butt and said, "This shit's not funny, dude. I didn't even work, really. The friggin' immigration laws keep changing! One day I'm okay, the next day some judge rules that some law is unconstitutional or something and I'm looking over my shoulder for ICE to come and deport my ass again."

I brought the pastry down to just about nose level in front of her, winked, and said, "Yes, well, as I've also said more than once tonight, I've got this father..."

And as we sailed back out onto the balcony, I set dessert down and handed her a knife. And as she cut into the pastry and saw the chocolate ooze out, she said, "That's kinda what's going on between my legs right now."

"Remind me to keep a few of those Depends things on hand."

She socked me, that time. And then stuck a finger in the molten ooze and fed me some. Before attacking the thing with a big fork—voracious, that woman. No neat little slices for her...