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I’ve never been one to fit into traditional gender roles, so when my newest boyfriend commented that he expected a hot meal to be on the dinner table waiting for him when he got home from work, I simply rolled my eyes. If a man wants a traditional woman, he better be prepared to be a conventional man.

And since I don’t imagine Travis building me a home with a white picketed fence and paying ALL of my bills to support me, the only hot mean he’ll be served is the one between my legs. I didn’t say that, though; I simply kissed him goodbye and wished him a good day at the office.

Continue reading “Dinner Is Served”