I haven't used an electric blanket in a long time.
Because cats are very sticky creatures in winter, they can be called mobile soup mothers, so since the year I picked up the cat, the electric blanket has been honorably retired, and I put it in the storage room to eat ashes. .
My cat likes to rub over slowly just before I go to bed, burrowing in expertly with his head over the quilt.
At first, the cat slept at my feet, but I always liked to tuck my feet under the cat's stomach to keep warm. I fell asleep in the middle of the night, and before I knew it, the cat would gradually move up. Every time I woke up, I would find that my cat was sleeping with his head on the pillow like a human. Maybe he felt that the quilt was too stuffy. .
When I'm at home, the cat loves to follow me. It has a small tail and can't get rid of it.
When I went to pour the water, the cat jumped up and put my hand above my head, motioning me to touch him; when I was typing, the cat would definitely come over to block my sight, and stepped on my keyboard, stepping on a string of unknown meanings. The character; even when I go to the bathroom, my cat follows suit, takes aim, and launches itself into my lap to squat.
I also let him, every time I touch the cat, I always feel that somewhere in my heart becomes very soft.
The vet told me to make sure the cat's diet is balanced, so my cat gets two cans a week in addition to dry food. I restarted my kitchen and turned on the fire about twice a month, using the same ingredients, with salt for myself and without salt for my cat. I share the same dining table with the cat.
Now the cat is sitting across from me eating.
My ex-boyfriend taught me how to cook.
After the college entrance examination, we went to the same university and the same department.
When the admission letter arrived, my mother took it from me and took it with me every day, and took it out to show it to everyone. My mother was also afraid that some people had bad eyesight and couldn't see the brilliantly glittering school logo above, and she also carried a pair of my grandma's reading glasses just in case.
I don't know if my dad knew about it. When I was in my third year of high school, he had disappeared, leaving only an unintelligible letter and a bunch of vicious creditors.
But it's okay, it's the same without him.
The important thing is that I and I can be the same table again.
Work at the same table during the day, and at night.
We rented a house near the school, I translated literature at the same table, and I did PPT on behalf of me. After collecting money every month, there was still a small balance after rent and food expenses.
I was sitting on the bed at the same table with me and drank money, laughing like two fools.
My deskmate usually doesn't talk much, but on the bed, I talk a lot, one baby at a time, and my voice is low and panting. Su De's body is numb and soft, so I can only cling to his neck and hang around his waist, whispering in a low voice. Ask him to take it easy. But my deskmate didn't listen to me very much. He lowered his head with red eyes and blocked my lips together with my cock, which made the collision even worse.
Gee, my deskmate is very bad.
Although I was bullied by him at night, my voice was almost hoarse, and I secretly swore to ignore him again, but in the morning when I saw my tablemate cooking with a naked upper body and an apron, I would instantly defect.
This man is so damn pleasing to the eye.
Well, how should I put it, that is, it makes people very lustful.
The kind that can't stop after the desire is over.
I often sit at the dining table with a cup of hot water and drink it without making a sound. I watch my tablemate wash rice, wash vegetables, beat eggs, steam custard buns, and lick him up and down with sight as the first dish in the morning. vegetable.
Every time I licked to the end, my tablemate turned around to find me, and would take me off the table with one hand and give me a long, sweet kiss. If the task at night is completed early, my tablemate will make me a late-night snack, and then nimbly dodge away from my sticky face, which was made by the shredded banana and wanted to rub against him.
I've also tried waking up early to cook for him and ended up making a mess in the kitchen. At the same table, I picked up the vegetable leaves that jumped from the kitchen to the table outside, controlled my expression, tried to swallow the last bite of the meal, sighed again, and decided to start teaching me how to cook.
Later I also learned.
But the process was not very smooth.
I like it best when my deskmate surrounds me from behind, and the slender and beautiful hands hold my fingers, pouring salt down a little bit. I deliberately shook my hands a lot to make him hold it tighter, and then I quietly used my lower body to get close to his place and tilted my head to look for his lips.
…
Then the kitchen gets messier.
The sofa was also messed up.
In the end, even the bed made in the morning was not spared.
I remember that the first dish I taught me at the same table was scrambled eggs with king oyster mushrooms. The delicious mushrooms were eaten with warm porridge, and the taste was amazing.
But when I finally figured out the basic principles of cooking in countless dizzy kisses and could be on my own, my tablemate pressed me again, preventing me from getting up early to go to the kitchen.
My tablemate taught me to cook just so I wouldn't starve to death when he wasn't home.
The atmosphere of our university is open and tolerant, no one cares whether you are holding a boy or a girl or a bear, which I find very comfortable.
At that time, I bought clothes at the same table with big pockets. When my hands and feet were cold in winter, he would take my hand and put it in the pocket to keep it warm. In the evening, when I went to bed at the same table, I stubbornly stepped on one of my cold feet on his thigh. After a few breaths of cold air, I reached out and put my other foot on his lap. Let me go when it's hot.
I was greedy for his love and indulgence for me, and was reluctant to add the electric blanket to the shopping cart.
My tablemate likes to wrap my arms around me from behind after a night of maddening, rubbing my neck back and forth with its nose like a cat, and imprinting kiss after kiss on the back of my neck along the smoke scar.
His movements were light, occasionally rubbing his lips against the slightly uneven old wound.
My roommate said with a sigh, "Wait a minute, when I'm rich, I'll put gold, silver, and diamonds around your neck to block them all."
"Hahaha you are so vulgar."
"Well, but I have nothing now, only this cheap sincerity, do you want it?"
I now reasonably suspect that my cat is my ex-boyfriend.
Evidence six:
My cat is very warm in winter, and my cat likes to be coquettish.