[Fiction] Dinner

[gigglesticker]

"Hey boy". That's my favorite greeting. It immediately sets the mood. She didn't have to say anything but just that. Boy. It's as if I'm transported back to childhood, all insecurities and well protected secrets laid to bare. Just one word is all she needed to strip away the armor built over years, to have complete surrender. "How was your shower?" She asked, a smirk slowly working it's way into her face I bet. I replied, trying to maintain my voice, not showing any sign of desperation or need. "Fine, thank you Ma'am. How're you?" Hoping to change the topic. Hoping she won't ask about the little "preparation" she just had me go through. Of course, you can hope for world peace, it doesn't mean it'll happen. "Good. Just managed to finally catch a cab. This gentleman just saved my poor hide. Too bad cause I'm soaking wet though."

Oh how I hate her being smart like that. Of course she's wet, but we both know she's not talking about the rain now is she? "You washed behind your ear?" "Yes Ma'am, and also did as you asked". Of course I did as she asked. Hiding things isn't that easy when she can immediately tell if I've managed to control the urge for release after all she put me through today. "Good. I'll be there in 30 minutes judging by the condition of the roads. Prepare the kitchen."

Earlier this day I get a message "Hey boy, I want to stay in tonight. You're cooking." Bloody hell. I can't cook to save myself from starvation. Most I make is pasta with canned sauce, and even that might be over/under cooked. "Ummm, Ma'am, what'd you like for dinner?" "Oh surprise me." I can imagine her grin, softly chuckling to herself. So I improvise. No stranger to red meat, I go and buy 2 cuts of sirloin, a bottle of Chardonnay, some garnish to make a good steak. Now I'd personally like a nice Shiraz however she's partial to the 2001 Chardonnay, so Chardonnay it is then. "Excuse moi, ze dinner will be steak accompanied with wine. Ze chef will personally prepare your meal." My French accent is impeccably irresistible. "Oh my French chef is here. Well Monsiour, go shower. And make sure you're thinking of Me." Great, 5 edges, all continuous so it's basically being on edge for 15 minutes.

Kitchen is laid. Steaks marinated, just need to cook them when she gets here and voila, perfect candle lit dinner. The sound of the keys in the door. "Honey I'm hooome." I walk out and see her, and no question, it is pouring out there. Her clothes are soaked indeed. I step up to her, she wraps her hands around my neck, gently grabbing my lower lip with her teeth, tugging. "Mmmmm. Missed me?" She says as I feel her knee gently pressing up between my legs. "Oooh you did miss me." She teasingly pushes me away, never allowing me to catch my breath to say a word. "Now boy, I'm going to slip into something more... Comfortable." She says, winking wickedly. I roll my eyes and turn to go back to the kitchen. "Oh you're not thinking of cooking like that are you?" "What you mean?" I reply confused. "Well Monsiour, you're not dressed properly." I cringe on the inside, not trying to think of what she has in store for me now. I raise my eyebrows asking for clarification. "Well, we do have an apron last I checked." "Oh fine, I'll wear your apron if it makes you feel better." Even while being completely aroused, I still find the chance to be a smart arse. "It will. Actually, wear just the apron boy." Oh now it makes sense. It's not enough to wear a bloody pink stripped apron, I have to be completely nude without it. Perfect. "Oh come on, it's kinda cold" I try to think of a better excuse, but nothing comes to mind. "Go." She says, just a hint of aggression in her voice. Again, one word, and I'm back in grade school. She goes to the room to change, and I follow. She takes off her coat and watches me undress, and I know she likes what she sees. I decide now isn't the time to be coy, so I say nothing, undress and go to wear my apron. She nods approvingly and goes to bathroom. I don my apron, shifting it to make sure it at least covers more skin than it possibly could.

Heating up pan, uncork the bottle and let it breathe, garnish is ready, and I smell something. It's not the smell of meat or parsley, not the smell of something burning. It's something far more dangerous. It's my favorite perfume. I look at the kitchen door and there she is, in a pair of sweats and one of my T-shirts. I smile "comfortable enough?" " oh yes thank you." She approaches me from behind and wraps her hands around my chest, fingers tracing my pecs. Whispering in my ear "smells delicious, doesn't it?". "Of course, it's my cooking isn't it?" I say trying to ignore the rising member straining against the apron. "Mmm go on then." She continues running her finger, nails tracing their way from the back of my neck, slowly carving their way down. I shudder and continue cooking, trying to set up the timer for the meat.

The meat is done, and the same could be said about me. Her hands haven't given me my poor body rest, ceaselessly feeling every inch. As I'm finished putting the steaks in plates, I feel her fingers move lower down my abs. I gasp and shudder, grabbing the edge of the counter for balance. "Very good boy, I think you deserve a treat." I whimper slightly, cautiously optimistic. She slowly undoes my apron, her hand suddenly between my legs. I swear she has been trained by ninja shoguns by her reflexes. A squeeze is all I get before she pushes me to my knees. She steps back and looks at me. "I have missed you boy. Here's your treat." She slowly lowers her sweats, revealing ever so slowly her sun kisses skin. I gulp, eyes following her hands, a quick glance up, her smile says it all. She removes her sweats, fingers wrapping around the edges of her panties. I can almost make out a light wetness, almost instinctively moving closer. "Ah ah ah, patience." She says, raising her foot and putting it on my shoulder. "Good things to all those who wait." I stay in place, watching the panties come off, dangling on her index finger. She puts her foot down, and brings her hand forward. "Go on, I know you've missed me." I cringe my nose, and give in, moving in and smelling her sweet arousal. She suddenly presses the panty into my face, covering my nose, almost suffocating me. Her foot sits on my quivering member, toes gently playing with the tip, running down the shaft to the bottom, lightly running under my balls. I groan and buckle, trying to pull back my head, yet somehow immobilized, her smell arousing me further. She pulls back her hand, and I look up at her, panting. Surprise, she's a bit short of a breath, a hand I merging from between her legs slightly glistening. She drop the panties on my cock, and brings up her other hand to mouth. "Good boy, grab my panties and wrap it around this." With a light kick to my balls, I'm forced to recognize her demand, and wrap the panty over my member, hands shaking, shivers of pleasure shooting up and down my back. "Mmmm yes" she says, as I feel her finger invade my mouth, tasting her fresh scent. "Mmmm good boy, now don't you wanna cum in my panties?" I resist to nod, the thoughts being garbled in my mind, pure lust forcing my actions. I nod, and she smiles, nodding in approval. I speed up my hand, body tensing, on the verge of relief. I look up at her for approval. "Actually I changed my mind. Go wash up and let's have dinner." She says as she reaches down, grabs her panties, laces them around the base, and ties it tight, with a nice little tie on top. "Now you're ready to have dinner with me."