I sat down on the brown leather couch, tucking my legs underneath me.

I told you when I didn’t like your cooking didn’t I? I ventured, needing a lighter note in this somber symphony.

Millie smiled, replacing the TV remotes back in their sacred place on top of the television. Now, is it just me or is putting a TV remote control on top of the TV one of the most pointless tasks in the world? It simply makes the whole point of having a remote useless. It would take up more energy to get up, pick the remote up, go back to your seat and turn it on that way. Rather than simply getting up and turning it on, on the actual television. Ok so I had thought about this a lot, it was one of Millies habits which still completely eluded me.

But that’s different babe, if you had liked my cooking you would probably be in intensive care suffering from severe food poisoning. Millie joked, moving over to the sofa.

Like I said before if you want to do away with me, poisoning my food just wont work because if it don’t look right, I ain’t eating it.

Millie laughed at my words, now standing directly in front of me. I placed my hands on her hips, pulling her even closer and wrapping my legs around hers. Giggling at my impatience Millie landed on top of me, her right knee falling dangerously between my legs. As soon as I had the brunettes weight hovering over mine, her face barely an inch away from my gaze. I ran my hands from her hips, up her back until they could entangle themselves in her soft curls.

So how do you suggest I do it then? Millie murmured, her words tinged with an inticing double meaning.

I continued to smile, my hands falling to her slender hips again as Millie shifted on top of me so she could straddle my waist. I watched her intently as her fingers curled under the hem of my tank top. She began pulling the dark material up, exposing my toned tummy. I sat forward as the top was whipped off me and discarded onto the floor.