"I'll try one last time!" she mumbled, putting the potatoes in the blender. She then added some butter and a little milk, set it on high and whipped t...e hell out of it! She couldn't help smiling when she thought of when she used to "flavor" his salad! She was half tempted to do it again, but refrained."If this doesn't satisfy him, then he can make his own damned mashed potatoes! Or have his Mommy come over and make it for him!" Someday," she muttered, watching the potatoes in the blender.. .. for three, please,” I said, like I was ordering lunch at a one item restaurant. They have those in the west.No menu ... you sit and the waitress brings it ... what ever it is. The meal might be chicken on Sunday. That’s presupposing that the restaurant is open on Sunday. Usually it’s the main and two or three sides. The sides are a choice but the main is what they cooked.Those are very popular with families ... home cooking and no dishes. The kids don’t have to eat green beans or ... ick .... "I can assume that you like?" she asked."More than you know," he responded.The liquor still coursing through his brain had him confess his love for this type of lingerie and the fact that he usually had to purchase numerous sets for his former lovers as they wouldn't. He also confessed that most never wore these sexy items more than a few times."I always wear this kind of lingerie," she told him.She then suggested he get a room if he wanted to see more of what she was wearing. Blake was. I was floored. I think he knew to be patient, since I hadn’t left and I hadn’t slapped him either. After a long quiet and with as much thoughtfulness as I could muster for the situation, I began to speak, barely audibly. ‘You cannot possibly love me, in the manner that you are speaking, any more than a cinematic film – if all you did was watch me ten years ago and are now replaying those images in your mind. It seems I am nothing more to you than a projected image, purified and glorified.