apparently my grandmother’s lemon loaf (with a small tweak or two) is sufficient to induce married-man orgasms.*
See? I’d marry me for my cooking. So would several of my co-workers. What’s your problem?
*The outward signs of a married-man orgasm include leaning back in the chair, putting the feet on the desk, and proceeding to pick every crumb off of the chest to place in the mouth. May also be accompanied by moaning loud enough to make people pop up from their cubes like gophers to see what the fuss is about.