A picture of me pretending to cook pretend food. (Photo taken at Del Sol Furniture.)
Since my recent engagement to Jerremy, I have been nesting...hard. Now, I am not terribly domestic in RL, but I have found myself quite happy to play Barbie Dream House in SL. And right now, my Barbie Dream House needs a kitchen. Unfortunately for Jerremy, I do not cook. Not even prim food. I have lived on a steady diet of champagne and rez day cake since I was born. So, my kitchen will just be a big, fat, adorable prim wasting decoration.
That will not stop me though. I have been kitchen shopping and I even tried my hand at building one. So far though, I have had no luck at finding or creating something that appeals to me.
But then one day, I saw standing before me the potentially coolest thing a non-cooking newlywed could ever possibly want - a sex kitchen! "OMG!" I thought, "This is the perfect concept! There is no reason why my husband-to-be should not get pleasure from the food prep surfaces in our home!"
The next day, I dragged Jerremy to the shop where I had seen the kitchen and we proceeded to test it out right there in the store. Clothed, of course, and only after checking to make sure there were no other shoppers around. We are klassy like that.
Jerremy drove. (Note: This is my term for taking over the controls of whatever sexual furniture you are currently using.) The first animation had us spooning behind the breakfast bar, lying prone as though someone had dropped an heirloom fork and we needed to retrieve it. Not very sexy.
"Hey, Honey, do you smell fumes....."
Next, we found ourselves lying on the counter in the missionary position, which wasn't that bad. It got bad, though, when we flipped to the girl-on-top position. In that position, I was banging my head against the upper cabinet with every thrust. I imagined a love making session that would conclude with the sound of a thud as I passed out, rolled off of the counter and landed in "looking for a dropped fork position" all over again.
"Hi, Honey What's for dinner? Oh! ME!"
The next position had my lying on my back on the counter with one leg around Jerremy and the other over his shoulder. Hawt, right? Sadly, no. For some reason, Jerremy was kneeling in the stainless steel sink. He was probably trembling with fear that he pleased me, lest I flip on the garbage disposal.
"That isn't funny anymore, Tym! Take you hand off the switch!"
Now, when I first heard the phrase sex kitchen, I pictured someone coming up behind me and kissing my neck while I hand washed the dishes. Maybe picking me up and setting me on the counter for a make-out session. Not reverse cowgirl on the floor next to the dishwasher while wishing we had swept first.
So, at the moment, we remain kitchen-less and Jerremy will just have to find another place to kiss me. Maybe I should learn to cook after all.
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