I've got a surprise in store, but I won't actually tell her what it is.
I've got my hands over her eyes as I lead her into the kitchen, and as I release her, it's obvious that it's been transformed somewhat. Okay, none of you know what my kitchen looks like, but it's all been cleaned meticulously. We can't see that, though, because all the lights are off. The only glimmer comes from the eating table, which I've put in the middle of the room... in its centre, a cross between a menorah and a candelabra sits, candles arranged in a star shape, making patterns of light dance across the walls and ceiling.
The surprise is the dinner. The food itself isn't that exquisite, but the romance itself comes from how much care I took in preparing it. And it looks fine, even though it's simple. Coils of pasta, cooked for a longer time than normal, and then stirred with herbs, olive oil and butter, which melts in from the heat, then divided onto plates and topped with grated cheese (which, of course, has also melted on top). Just normal food, but in my dark kitchen, the candles illuminating only each other's faces. I could probably drop some of the pasta down my top and she wouldn't even notice.
We finish eating, and it's time for dessert. I say this, but I'm walking over to her seat, which isn't anywhere near the freezer. I kiss her once on the cheek. That's my plan - give her a quick kiss, and then pile on the chocolate ice-cream or something.
I can't help it, though. I've kissed her on the cheek, and I want more. Before I know it, I'm kissing her fully on the mouth, and my hands are winding their way behind her back. She stands up from her chair, and we're in a clinch, bodies pressed together as our hearts speed up, and I feel my pulse quicken...
Can't help it now. I haphazardly push some of the plates off the table, and lift her onto it, still kissing her neck. She begins to remove her top, as I'm undoing random buttons, and only at that critical moment, do I remember the candles, dangerously close to her back.
So I break the kiss, lean over and blow them out.
And in the kitchen, now merely lit by the moon shining through the large window, sight is no longer a major factor, as other senses come into play. The darkness shrouds all but the closest of visions, as the rustle of clothes vibrates through the room... and soon afterwards, the moans of orgasm bounce off the walls as the kitchen table creaks in a steady rhythm.