My spouse washed some fruit for me and put it in a bowl. Raspberries, blackberries, and strawberries, fresh from the farmers market. Yum! But it was too much. I ate them in order of how much I like them, saving the best for last. First I ate all the blackberries, dark and plump. Then the
“Hey, dear. This candy reminds me of your dick,” I told my spouse. “You wanna try one?” We were driving in the car, on a long ride. And we’d stopped at a gas station. I went into the mini-mart and looked through all the candy. It was that kind of mood–I wanted to stare at
I don’t think of myself as a food fetish kind of person. Sure, garlic makes me horny. But that’s normal. Garlic makes everyone horny! Then I told my spouse I was craving lasagna really bad. But I can’t eat it. Well, I could try it with a white sauce instead of red. Veg instead of
“Is eel a fish?” I asked my spouse. “Yes,” he said. “Oh, are you sure?” I asked. “Seems different.” “Maybe you’re thinking of lampreys,” he said. I was thinking of nasty tube animals with toothy mouths. Animals to dodge, for sure. “I could try one,” I said. We were at all you can eat sushi,