Nymphetamine -- Alex/Margaret
Admittedly, she lingered in that position a bit longer than she should have, allowing Alex to admire her rear. Hell, she even went so far as to shift her weight between her feet, making the two mounds of flesh flex ever so slightly.
So what if she wanted to look nice and show off a bit? Deep down, every woman — whether they’d admit it or not — wanted to be admired. Lord knew that Alex wasn’t the same boy she’d practically raised and cared for all those years ago. Moments later, she’d re-enter the dining room, carrying the main course — thinly-sliced chicken, cooked in a cream of mushroom-based sauce. On the days that she actually had the time (or desire) to cook for her family, the meal had always been well-received. After setting it on a cork potholder on the table, she took a seat across from Alex and smiled. “After you.”
Alex waited until Margaret had taken a seat before taking his plate and carving off some of the chicken onto his plate, as was customary of him.
"Thanks, Margaret," he said to her as he started to cut a piece off his plate.
He brought the fork up to his mouth and pulled the piece off, chewing it and savoring the flavors that the meal provided. It was delicious! He swallowed the piece and smiled again.
"Mmm! Margaret, this is fantastic. I can't even imagine where you conjured up a recipe like this, but it's absolutely outstanding."
Alex started to eat up the rest of his meal, casting a glance across the table at Margaret every now and again. He would pause to take a sip or two of wine as well. He wasn't normally a wine-drinker, but he didn't mind it every so often.
"I gotta tell you again, I really appreciate this."
