We went to our separate rooms and changed to eat.Another recipe from my youth was served this evening. Simply called ‘Noodles and Chicken,’ but it...was rather labor intensive. Back in the day, it was chicken breast meat on the bone that was stripped off and broiled. I used to help, and it was my first blushing moment hearing the word ‘breast,’ which my mother explained with much too much detail. She still enjoys making me blush.Many people make a form of this, but they call it ‘Chicken and. I helped her into the shower and she cried softly as I gently washed her body. It wasn't from sadness, but rather it was a release of the emotions we were both feeling. It was a time of intimacy for us that surpassed the playfulness of the night before.As she took the washcloth from me, she traced the scars along my body. Some were faint, old reminders of dead enemies. One was fresh, still red and livid from a knife wound. When she had cleaned all of me but my erect member, she looked up at me. More

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