My family tends to go on food kicks. I suppose this normal for all families. But this holiday season was designated "cheesemas". My MIL likes to overdo things when it comes to food. So I think she bought out the entire cheese counter at the local grocery. There was cheese from around the world. Cheese in blocks. Cheese in wedges. Fat cheese. Skinny cheese. Cheese with bacon in it. Cheese with horseradish in it.
Now, don't get me wrong. I like cheese and all. I like it on my hamburgers and on my ham and cheese sandwiches. I even like the dipping cheese that you get with the enormous pretzels with road salt on them at the hockey games. But the wall o' cheese was absurd in its cheesiness. I tasted a few and made my half hearted raised eye brow grunts.
Until I hit the orgasmic cheese.
Now, despite past blogs to the contrary, I tend to be fairly private about my orgasms. Especially when I'm surrounded by a room full of in-laws. So it was rather embarrassing when I sort of melted into a lump of gooey mess right there on the floor after the first taste of this stuff. "WHAT! was that..." I sighed, when I had regained my breathe. If I had a g-spot, this cheese would have found it and engulfed it in swooney goodness. It was like someone took a tuning fork and hit the resonant center of my universe causing me to lose all control of bodily functions.
It is called Stiltson Mango Ginger cheese. Zing... I'm getting excited just saying its name.
Having described this to one friend already... I got a less than excited reaction. "Mango? In my cheese? No." And I can understand that. For I too never believed in the perfect "O"... and I realize that this cheese might not be your perfect "O".
But now I believe that the perfect "O" exists. I'm heading to the store to buy more now.
Have a Merry, Perimenopause!
3 months ago