Chapter 4 - the master chef

A little relationship weight was to be expected, Meg considered as she pulled on her work pants one morning. She sucked in her stomach, a little harder than the day before, and finally buckled them up. She'd have to start heading back to the gym soon. But her evenings with Max were always so much fun, as the sexy hunk fussed around her. He was so in love with her, he wanted to make her happy, any time of the day, or night. She'd chuckle as he would arrive with tasty treats, or whip up a nice meal from almost nothing in her refrigerator. The man was a genius in the kitchen!

Max walked in from the shower, looking like a catwalk model and halted immediately at seeing Meg in only her work pants. His eyes stared at the tightness around her waist, almost making Meg a little self-conscious, until she remembered how besotted he was. The love potion worked so well, it didn't matter what she looked like; make-up was no necessity around Max.

"Oh, you're not going to work are you?" Max teased, throwing down his towel to reveal his impressive manhood. The moisture from the shower made his rippling muscles glisten and shine. He pulled Meg towards him, his hands exploring the material of the pants as they cupped her ass, almost as if he were sizing her up.

"I have to go to work!" Meg laughed, enjoying the sexy man rubbing his hands all over her.

Max pulled back in mock unhappiness, stroking himself. "I'll be here waiting for you then," he smiled seductively, still touching himself and making Meg want to rip off her clothes and join him in bed again. "Don't forget the packed lunch I made you!" he called as Meg trotted off to use the bathroom now it was free.

"Mmm, that looks good!" Meg's work colleague noted as she peered at the large slab of cake Meg was eating a few hours later. "It looks homemade."

"It is," Meg boasted. "My boyfriend made it for me!" she continued, still amazed that she was describing the beautiful Max as her boyfriend. She almost wished that she hadn't eaten all of the other treats Max had put in there for her, so that she could show her work colleague them now; but by half three in the afternoon there was nothing left to show.

Instead, Meg whipped out her phone and slid through a bunch of photos she'd taken of the impressive meals and desserts Max had made in the last few weeks; 'accidentally' strolling onto a photo of Max without his shirt on.

"Oh, you don't want to see that!" Meg tittered, desperately searching in her work colleagues eyes to see how jealous she was.

The lady smiled sweetly. It was as if she wanted to say something, but was holding back. "That's nice," she conceded pleasantly.