Spoiling Mister Man

Roy ate like a man who hadn't had a proper home-cooked meal in ages. Michelle sat beside him at the small table, chin resting lightly on her knuckles, watching every bite with bright, satisfied eyes. The plate she'd put in front of him had been piled high with roasted chicken, rice, and vegetables she'd sautéed in butter and garlic, while her own portion had been smaller.

Roy had gone back for seconds anyway.

Fork scraped happily across the plate. Another bite disappeared. A pleased little grunt escaped him without him even realizing it.

Michelle's grin stretched wider.

He loved it.

He actually loved it.

Warmth spread through her chest, a fizzy, glowing pride that made her feel ten feet tall. Her big man sitting there, shoulders relaxed after work, happily demolishing the food she'd made with her own hands.

Michelle had never cooked for anyone like this before. Sure, she'd helped out at home growing up, thrown together quick meals, heated things up. But cooking for a boyfriend? Watching him enjoy it like this? That was brand new.

And she loved it.

The whole day had felt like a dream she didn't want to wake up from. Cleaning the apartment that morning. Putting music on while she tidied and organized. Folding Roy's laundry. Straightening shelves. Making the place feel warm and lived-in.

Their apartment.

Then cooking. Stirring and tasting and adjusting spices like she'd seen people do in cooking shows. The nervous excitement as the clock crept closer to the time he’d come home from work.

And that moment when the door opened. Roy stepping inside. The way his face lit up when he saw her standing there waiting. Her heart had nearly burst right out of her chest.

Was that what it used to feel like? Back in the day? Wives waiting for their husbands to come home from work, dinner ready, house clean? Michelle used to think that stuff was made up. Some old-timey fantasy people talked about. But the way she'd felt standing there that evening...

Maybe it hadn't been a myth after all.

Roy leaned back in his chair with a satisfied exhale, patting his stomach.

"Wow," he said. "I might not move for a week."

Michelle laughed softly.

"You got room for dessert?"

Roy looked at her with mock suspicion. "Michelle, you're spoiling me."

Her smile turned mischievous.

"Only giving you what you deserve, Mister Man."

Dessert wasn't fancy. Roy had some instant pudding mixes shoved in the back of the cupboard, and Michelle had whipped them up earlier, pouring the chocolate pudding into two small bowls and letting them chill in the fridge. She placed one in front of him now with a little flourish.

As Roy picked up his spoon, Michelle leaned close, letting her fingers glide slowly across the solid warmth of his chest. Fabric stretched over a body that was soft and strong all at once. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Enjoy," she said with an impish grin.

Then she sat in the chair beside him and watched. Roy didn't notice at first. He was focused on the pudding.

But Michelle wasn't interested in dessert. What she wanted was sitting right next to her. Through her eyes, Roy was... perfect.

Forty years old. More than twice her age. Some girls might have thought that was weird. Michelle thought it was amazing. A grown man. Someone steady. Someone who knew how the world worked. Not some boy still figuring himself out.

Roy's body had weight to it, too. A big belly that pushed slightly against the table. Thick arms. A chest that felt warm and safe when she leaned against him. Michelle adored it. Soft didn't mean weak. Soft meant comfortable. Solid. A place to rest her head.

Even the thinning hair on top of his head made her smile. A slightly receding hairline that spoke of years lived, mistakes made, lessons learned. Proof that Roy wasn't some smooth, cocky kid.

He was the real deal.

And somehow he had chosen her.

After dinner, Roy insisted on helping with the dishes. Michelle tried to protest, but he was already rolling up his sleeves and carrying plates to the sink.

They bumped into each other in the tiny kitchen, laughing, passing utensils back and forth. Warm water ran, dishes clinked, and the whole thing felt strangely perfect. Like they'd been doing this together forever.

Roy dried his hands with a towel when they finished, glancing around the clean kitchen.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I really love having you here."

Michelle froze for half a second, heart skipping.

Roy continued, voice softer now.

"I mean it. Coming home and seeing you here... it just feels right. I didn't expect that. I didn't expect to care this much, this fast."

His eyes met hers.

"But it's real. These feelings, completely real."

Michelle's chest felt so full it almost hurt.

Roy gestured lightly around the apartment, colour flushing his cheeks, as if he'd just realized how much he'd said.

"And I appreciate everything you did today. The cleaning, the cooking, all of it. But you don't have to do all that to earn your place here, okay?"

Michelle blinked.

Then she burst out laughing.

"You're silly."

Roy frowned playfully. "Am I?"

"I'm not trying to win your favour," she said, shaking her head. "I wanted to do that stuff. I was bored! And I like working. And I like taking care of you."

Her voice softened.

"You make me feel special. I wanna make you feel special too."

Roy gave a quiet, self-conscious chuckle.

"The only thing special about me," he said, "is the women I somehow end up with."

Michelle didn't let him finish the thought.

She kissed him.

Suddenly. Fiercely.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders as her lips found his again and again, giggling breathlessly between kisses. Roy made a surprised sound before laughing into the kiss and wrapping his arms around her. Michelle couldn't stop. Every kiss felt better than the last.

Her fingers moved behind her back. The zipper of her dress slid down with a soft metallic whisper. Fabric loosened around her shoulders. Then the dress slipped to the floor. Michelle nudged it aside with her foot.

Roy's eyes widened slightly, realizing what she was doing.

For a moment she paused, leaning close, smiling up at him with sparkling eyes.

"And cooking and cleaning," she murmured playfully, "isn't the only perk you get from having me as your girlfriend, Mister Man."

Her hands rested against his chest.

Then, slowly, she slid down his body until her knees were touching the floor.

Looking up at him, excitement and nervous curiosity danced together in her eyes. Michelle had never tried it before. Her friends had talked about this back in school, whispered stories about how their boyfriends went crazy when they did this.

And the eager smile spreading across her face made one thing very clear.

She couldn't wait to find out why.