Swinging her legs out of the car, she punched the trunk release and walked to the apartment stairs without looking back. I climbed out, staring after her, until I realized what she intended. I managed to bring all the groceries upstairs in three trips, so that the kitchen counters were covered with bags. Meanwhile, RoseAnn uncorked a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass.
"You won't mind putting the groceries away, will you?"
"I don't know where everything goes."
"If you're going to live here for four years, there's no time like the present to learn."
I shrugged and started sorting the contents of the bags and opening cupboards to see where similar items were stored. I put canned goods with canned goods, pasta with pasta, and perishable items in the refrigerator, and hoped I was doing it right.
She'd kicked off her shoes and perched on a stool with her ankles crossed, sipping her wine and watching me at work. Under her gaze, I felt my erection grow. She'd issued orders, and I'd obeyed without question. The mundane task of sorting groceries was suddenly a highly charged erotic act.
When I finished, she slipped off the stool and began setting up to make dinner. She took out the package of chicken breasts and bell peppers and put them on the cutting board. .
"Can I help?" I asked.
"Have you cooked before?"
"Beyond making coffee from beans?"
"Hm. That's what I thought. Men can't do the simplest things to look after themselves. I suppose you expect me to do your laundry, too?"
"You're not?" I made it a joke, although I hadn't even thought about how my laundry would be done. My folks worked long hours, but we had a housekeeper for the everyday chores.
"No, in fact, I expect you to do mine. Why don't you wash these peppers, cut out the seeds, and cut them into strips?"
She wanted me to do her laundry? The thought of handling her clothes buzzed in my head, and my erection started to be a problem again. I was so distracted, I managed to cut my finger with the knife. When I was done, I put a Band-Aid on the shallow cut and rinsed the blood from the glistening green strips. RoseAnn added the strips to the cooking chicken and sprinkled sauce on top. The kitchen smelled wonderful.
She served up the chicken and peppers over noodles with parmesan cheese and a glass of wine. Our lunch at the Thai restaurant had been light, and I had a powerful appetite, so the meal was not quite enough to fill me. Even so, food was not the first thing on my mind.
Afterward, I helped wash the dishes, and we moved into the living room where she selected a movie. While it was loading, she sat holding the remote, but looking as though she was waiting for me to make a move. She reached down and kneaded her foot until I took the hint.
I was desperate to touch her. "Can I give you a foot rub?" I offered.
"They're a little sore after the afternoon. I should have worn a lower heel for all that walking." She put her feet in my lap and lay back against the cushions, while the movie began to play. Her feet were warm and strong, and I kneaded them, working from the toes down to the heel. I rubbed the soles of her feet and her insteps, while her eyes closed in pleasure.
After a half-hour of this, she snorted slightly and I realized she'd dozed off. I couldn't have that, not while she still owed me an orgasm. I jiggled her feet until she woke. "Hey, you're missing the movie."
"I've seen it before. Keep rubbing."
"Do you have work tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow and Friday, same as most people. What day do you have to register?"
"Friday. What can I do to occupy myself tomorrow while you're at work?"
"I wake up at six. I have to be at work before eight."
