Caught my reflection in the window while cooking dinner and it hit me—I was smiling at nothing. Just thinking about that time you came up behind me in the kitchen, pushed my dress up, and fucked me over the counter while the sauce bubbled. My panties were soaked, and I had to bite my apron to keep from screaming. I still get wet every time I stir that pot. It’s the little things, you know? The way a memory can make your whole body ache. I’m craving that kind of spontaneous hunger again—where you just take me because you can’t help it. Maybe tonight. 💋