sex in the kitchen

Dick, The Finale

I think it was Julia Child who said, “With enough butter anything is good.”

You know, she was right about that. Although, I will admit that Dick was good without the butter, but the butter made it better. Somehow it made the steamy hot scene, even sexier.

Thankfully we moved from in front of the (hot) stove to the kitchen table. I can still hear the sound of the table scraping on the tile floor from the friction of his rhythmic pace. I can still remember the way he gripped my hips. The way he ravaged me. And I also remember that I loved every second of it.

As he came closer to the edge, he reached around and began torturing my clit with his fingers. I simply could not take all of that stimulation at once and had a sobbing, screaming orgasm, right there, face down on his kitchen table. He came soon after I did, collapsing beside me on the table.

We just looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. Neither of us said anything. My face was tear-stained from the intensity of what had just happened.  He looked at me with such concern, wiping my eyes with his thumb. And without a word, Dick took me by the hand and led me to another part of the house to the guest bathroom. I’d not noticed it before, but this bathroom had a huge claw-foot tub.

He turned on the water and walked out of the bathroom for me to have a bath. I gingerly got into the tub and relaxed in the warm water. I was spent. Completely spent. It was so soothing. The lights were dim, as it was only illuminated by the light from the hallway.  I was exhausted and relaxed. Just as I was about to doze off, he walked in with a plate of eggs and some juice.

He sat on the floor next to the tub and we shared a plate of cold eggs and dry toast. Again, neither of us saying anything. When we were finished, he took the plate back to the kitchen and returned with a towel for me.  I dried off and practically stumbled to his bed. He showered and joined me soon after.

We slept until noon.

I remember the soreness I felt that day. Every muscle in my body ached. It was a good sore. I liked that feeling. Dick woke up, turned on the coffee pot and dressed for his daily run. Every day, he ran at least three miles. It was his drug. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat outside while I waited for him.

When he returned home, I asked him, “So what’s on the agenda today?”

He grinned a devilish grin, and I thought, oh shit…I cannot handle any more sex right now. My legs felt like Jello and I knew I’d probably pass out at the first orgasm.

He said, “Hmmm, Tess.  I don’t know. Let’s grab a late lunch and maybe see a movie or something?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. My poor body needed a respite from the sex marathon we’d had. I said, “Lunch and a movie? That sounds great!”

He smiled and said, “Good! But on the way home, I need to pick up some things at the store.”

“I am all out of butter.”

On a side note, I later realized that Dick’s ingenuity with butter was not likely his original idea. About seven years ago, I watched the movie, The Last Tango in Paris, for the first time. I have a sneaky suspicion, Dick took that taboo tidbit from the infamous butter scene.

Such a bad boy, that Dick.  

bathtub-1

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (part 3)

He was standing in front of me and the boyish grin had faded. I recognized the look in his eyes. He was a hedonistic beast enslaved with lust, determined to have his way with me.  He picked me up by my ankles and pulled me over to the edge of the bed.

“Hold your hips up off of the bed, until I tell you to stop.” he ordered. “Up. Up. I want them suspended up. Good. Just like that”

I balanced my hips in the air, slightly off of the bed as he instructed. He then spread my legs open and dropped to his knees pulling my hips into his face. His tongue was experienced and unforgiving as he consumed me. I was at his mercy and he knew it. He held me at an angle where my only choice was to take what he dished out. As much as I wanted to squirm, there was nowhere to run. He had me. In a matter of minutes, oceans of orgasms washed over me. There was no time to recover. He pushed my legs back to my shoulders and pushed himself inside me. All of his ample cock filled me at once. He hooked his arms under mine and held the tops of my feet to my shoulders as he proceeded to savagely fuck the hell out of me.  Just as I was about to reach my edge, he stopped.

He flipped me over to my stomach and took me from behind. I’ve always enjoyed it like that, but he picked up my leg and held my foot on his shoulder. He drove himself in deeper in that position and my legs began to shudder from my impending orgasm.

“You like that don’t you, Tess? I bet you don’t get done like this when that pager beeps, do you?”

I couldn’t even muster a word. I was spilling over the edge as was he. We collapsed from the frenzied fuckfest we’d just had. I looked over at him and the beast was gone. Dick was back, smiling that boyish grin.

“Did you enjoy that, Dick” I coyly asked.

“Of course I did. But the real question is, did YOU enjoy it, Tessa?”

I looked up at him, makeup smeared, hair sweaty, heart racing and said, “Yes. I was surprised by you. I didn’t take you for such a bad boy.”

He smiled and got up from the bed. “Yeah, most people think I am nice guy. And I am, but I have a dark side. Now let’s get dressed and go out.”

WTH? Disco Hell? After all of that?

We arrived at the Red Lion Pub around midnight.  The parking lot was full and you could hear the music from outside. The place was packed. I’d managed to pull myself together  with a quick shower and another drink. My outfit was perfect for the occasion. Dick seemed to like it.  He looked disco-chic, wearing some black pants and a dark blue button down, opened up to his chest. He was sporting a fake gold medallion necklace and totally looked the part. It was fun to dress up like that for a change.

We walked in and went to the bar. Dick ordered us a round of shots.  And another. After all of that sex and no dinner, I was almost drunk.  Dick led me to the dance floor and we starting dancing.

This clean cut boy was just full of surprises. Not only was he a sex machine, but he had some smooth moves. Pretty soon, we were in full swing…like we were in the dance contest on Saturday Night Fever. We never left the dance floor. It was great fun.

We closed down the pub around 3:00 and ventured back to his house.  I was thirsty and starving. And sore. With all of the acrobatic sex and dancing, I felt like I’d just done a P90X (more like a P90-SEX) workout. We’d been so “busy” all night, that we’d both forgotten to eat. He suggested we make breakfast together and I was all for that.

He retrieved some eggs and butter from the fridge for scrambled eggs. He asked me to make them while he put on some coffee and made the toast.  I love to cook, so I was happy to oblige. Just as I finished whisking the eggs, I felt him standing behind me.  His hand ventured up my skirt and he slowly pulled my panties down.

“What about the eggs?” I asked. I knew once we got started, there would be no way I could cook.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, Tessa” he quipped.

So I managed to pour the eggs into the hot pan and finish them. He stood behind me the entire time. I moved the pan to a cool place on the stove and turned to face him.

“The eggs are ready” I said.

“I know. We should let them cool a bit, don’t you think?”

I agreed. I could see that he wanted me right there in the kitchen. I recognized that look in his eyes. I turned back around to make sure I’d turned off the stove and he moved in closer behind me, pulling up my skirt as he unzipped his pants.  I could feel his hard cock touching my back. I wanted him again, badly.

He reached for the stick of butter on the counter. He unwrapped it and began smearing it all over his fingers. I was a bit confused as to what he was doing. I’d experimented with “food” play before, but never with butter.

Before I could figure out what was about to happen, I felt the cold stick of butter on my ass. Was he really smearing butter on my ass? And then he spread my cheeks and rubbed the stick of butter around my hole, fingering it with his slippery fingers. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. The butter was becoming soft in his grip and he slathered some on his cock. Then I got the memo. He was going to take my ass…right then, right there in the kitchen and butter was his medium.

You know, this brings a whole new take on buttering the biscuits…

(To be continued)

in the kitchen-best

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

On the Job Training

He was in his mid twenties.  Fresh out of college and ready to save the world.  He’d just finished his Masters degree in Social Work and he was on a mission. We already had a full time social worker, so he settled for a job in activities…just to get his foot in the door in healthcare.  His name was Mike.

Initially, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.  Keep in mind, Greg and I were still seeing each other on occasion, and I had no intentions of juggling more than what I already had…the one at home and the one at work. But Mike was such a nice guy…clean cut…well-dressed…punctual…polite.  He was great with the patients, although he was lacking in variety.  They did the same activities over and over.  Other than the repetition, he was doing a good job.

One evening, I was working late trying to catch up with my documentation.  He happened to be there also.  We spoke in the hall and I noticed him walking by my office a few times. I could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t.  The next time I saw him walk by, I looked up and said, “Hey Mike!  How late are you working tonight?”

He seemed relieved that I’d spoken first.  He walked in my office, almost nervous, and said,”I don’t know.  I am waiting on my roommate to pick me up and he’s late.  I can’t get him on the phone. So I may be stuck here for a long time.”

I sincerely felt bad for him.  He was from another state, so he had no family here.  All he had were his co-workers and roommates.  I’d heard him say the he was saving up to get a new car, as his was beyond repair.  I thought…why not?  “Mike, let me give you a ride home tonight.  There’s no need for you to wait around all night.  I will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Does that work for you?”

He perked up, “Yes Ma’am.  That’s great!  Thank you!”

I was a little perplexed that he’d referred to me as “ma’am” but I was older than him, so I let it go without much thought.  When it was time to leave, he met my outside by my SUV.  He stood at the driver’s side and opened my door for me, which was a surprising nice touch.  As I drove him home, he asked if we could stop by a gas station.  I thought he needed something, but instead he walked inside and paid for gas for me.  I thought…WOW…this kid was raised right!

We pulled up to his place around 8:00.  He thanked me for the ride and walked inside.  When I arrived at work the next day, there was a cup of coffee on my desk, with a note, “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Tessa.  Enjoy your coffee”  What a sweetheart!  Then Greg walked into my office and said, “where did you get coffee?”

I smiled and said, “Mike got it for me. I gave him a ride home last night.”

I could tell he was not pleased. He smirked, “Yeah, he’s had eyes for you since he got here. Watch those young ones.  They are trouble.” And with that he walked out, heading to the morning meeting.  Whoa…I had no idea he was the jealous type.  I kind of liked it.

I arrived at the morning meeting a bit late (as always) and there were no other chairs  left for me to sit down. Dammit! It’s no fun standing in there for 30 minutes, trying to balance coffee and a notepad.  But before I could blink, Mike got up from his seat and motioned for me to take his seat.  I was reluctant at first, but I gave in.  My stilettos were high and my motivation was low…so it was a welcomed seat.  I could feel Greg’s eyes watching and I knew he was not happy.  But he liked standing up, so he didn’t have a seat to offer me.

After the meeting, I walked into my office and began my day.  It was super busy and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I went to the break room to retrieve my lunch and Mike was in there, eating his sandwich.  I planned to eat in my office, but he pulled out a chair beside him and I felt obligated to join him  “How has your day been, Ms. Tessa?” he asked.

“It’s been busy, so your coffee hit the spot this morning.  Thank you. That was sweet of you.”  I caught him blushing as he said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Tessa”

I had to say it…”You do realize that I am only about five years older than you, don’t you?  You don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am.  It’s sweet, but not necessary.”

He blushed again…poor thing. “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to know how much I respect you.”

And then I saw it…what Greg was referring to…the boy had a crush on me.  Bless his heart.  “Mike, you are such a kind soul.  I appreciate your intention.  By the way, how’s the car search going?”

“It’s going.  Only have to save another few paychecks to put the money down I need.” And I made an executive decision.  This young man was trying so hard…trying to make it on his own, that I needed to help him.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.  I am glad to do what I can to help you.” and with that, I walked out.

A few days later, Mike stopped by my office.  “Is there any way you could give me a ride today?”  I was happy to help him.  When 5:00 arrived, he was at my office, ready to go.  I was bringing home a stack of files and before I could pick them up, he had them. It felt like he was carrying my books after school.  We got to the car and once again, he opened my door.  I took him home a few times over the next few weeks.

This infuriated Greg.  We were growing apart before all of this, but his attitude towards Mike pushed me further away.  We’d been seeing each other for over a year and we were approaching an impasse. We’d gone as far as we could go in our situation, and it was time to slowly back away.  So we decided to be friends…without benefits.

And Mike and I became closer.  He was such a sweet and charming young man, that the thought of crossing the line, never crossed my mind. But one day, as I drove him home he put his hand on mine as we approached his apartment.

“Tessa, I really like you in a way that I probably shouldn’t.  And if you are not interested, I will never mention it again. But if you are, I’d love for you to come inside and let me show you how much I care for you.”

Speechless, I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would blow his young mind and then I’d have a ‘stage 5 clinger’ on my hands. But I was intrigued.  It took serious balls to say what he did and it made me wonder if he didn’t have some swagger hidden underneath that college boy demeanor.

So I threw the car in park and leaned over to kiss him. That would tell me what I needed to know. And it left me breathless, wanting more.  He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, took my hand and led me into his apartment.  His roommate was working 2nd shift, so we were alone.

Clothes began coming off in the doorway. He was a passionate kisser and seemed very experienced at removing a bra…Hmmm, maybe he has some chops.  Then he backed me up to the kitchen counter and pulled my panties down.  He knelt in front of me, lifting me by the legs with his shoulders, propping me up on the counter.  He spread me open and tasted my wetness as if I were a delicacy.  His tongue was long and adept and he knew how to drive me to the edge.  He made me cum right there in his kitchen.

He walked me to his room, laying me down on his bed.  “I cannot wait to feel inside you.  I have wanted you from the time we met.”  He positioned himself on top of me, opening my legs with his hips.  Looking into my eyes he pushed himself inside.  He let out a long moan. Grasping my hips he pushed deeper, making me scream. We developed a hypnotic rhythm as our bodies fused together.  He took my hands in his and we stared in each others eyes as we climaxed.  It was intensely hot and I wanted more.

For weeks we carried on like that.  After work.  Before work.  At lunch.  The sex was hot and exciting.  In his youthful form, he was able to rebound in a matter of minutes.  So we fucked.  A lot.  We became consumed by our addiction to each other.  On the flip side, I was becoming more and more successful at work.  My new little tryst proved to be energizing for me.  I was number one in the company for three months in a row.  I attribute it to being happy and sated.  Even Greg noticed a change in me…but thankfully, he never figured out that Mike was the cause of it.  I was flourishing!  I made sure all of my work was done in a timely manner, so I could leave at 4:30 and have time to get my brains fucked out before going home.  

Mike didn’t fare so well. He was stuck in a perpetual love hangover.  He fell head over heels in love with me and didn’t focus on his work.  I tried to help him in any way I could. I even stopped seeing him for a while trying to rid him of the distraction, but he was too far gone.  The poor guy was lovesick.  Literally.  He gave up on his job and became obsessed with us.  I told him the rules from the beginning, no falling in love…but he allowed himself to fall hard.

Soon after, I was promoted to a regional position that required I travel all the time.  I later found out that Mike was let go. He wasn’t showing up for work. He was missing activities. He was a total mess.  He is the reason for the old adage…“don’t put your meat where you make your bread.” Some people cannot handle it.

About 7 years ago, I saw him at a workshop.  He landed a great job in social services, helping foster children…perfect for what he wanted.  He was engaged to one of his co-workers (imagine that) and he looked happy.  I was genuinely tickled to see him.  We hugged and reminisced for a few, and then went our separate ways.  I keep up with how he’s doing through a mutual friend, but we’ve not talked since.  I am glad he is doing well.

Looks like all that on-the-job-training served him well.  Bless his heart!   

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(Photo credit, Pinterest)