Years ago I had the pleasure of dating a very romantic man. One of my favorite memories of my times with him was cooking dinner. He would wrap his arms around me from behind as I worked at the counter chopping veggies or at the stove stirring a sauce. He’d put his chin on my shoulder as he watched me work and whisper such sweet and tender little nothings and kiss my neck. I don’t normally enjoy cooking, but, I sure did always look forward to cooking dinner for him.
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