Dinner (written at someone elses request)

Dinner
I was late as it was and I still needed to stop at the store for a couple things. I should have left early, you asked me to leave early. I should have know better, it was Friday. I just couldn't seem to get out of there, everyone needed something and everything right now because of the upcoming weekend, Then there was the traffic, that at least I had planned on. There was always traffic here no matter what time of the day it was. Today at least, there were no additional problems adding to it.
You wanted to cook tonight but I didn't know what yet. Calling me earlier you had asked me to stop and pick up a good bottle of wine. I didn't think to ask whether you wanted red or white but if I called you now you would ask where I was an I didn't want to disappoint you.
Of course the store was busy, if I hadn't been in such a hurry I would have thought to stop at Big Daddy's closer to work, too late now. I decided to go with a red and got one I knew you would drink regardless of the meal. Standing at the checkout I noticed the flowers on the end cap and added a bunch to the wine. The clerk was smiling at me, or rather smiling at the obvious implications of a bottle of wine and flowers.
Walking out I think about what you might have in store for me when I get to your house. I know you love to cook, I would love to watch you cook. I really needed to shower and change and that was going to be my first order of business when I walked in the house. It seemed to take forever to get to you but in reality I made it in record time. Pulling into the driveway I hoped I had a change in my car, I couldn't remember the last time I had a need to keep a change in the car in case of overnight excursions,
I was in luck, a pair of jeans and an old gray tee were rolled in the back, holding them to my nose they smelled like my laundry detergent so I figured they were safe. I threw my tool belt and hard hat into the trunk and hit the alarm as I headed up the walk.
I walked in calling your name out, the house was semi-dark but there was light coming from the kitchen, barely illuminating the hall. “Hey.” I called out walking down the hall and into the kitchen. The wine is here, IM gonna jump in your shower real quick if you don't mind. “Go ahead, I'll get it.” came your response from somewhere else in the house.
I could smell whatever was cooking even in the shower. You had clams sitting ready, about to steam when I had walked into the kitchen. There was a half empty bottle of white wine sitting on the countertop next to the clams. Since you rarely drink white I assumed it was in one of the steaming pans on the stove. I, on the other hand, prefer white and grabbing a glass off the rack, walked over to pour myself some, taking it with me into the shower. I hit the stereo on my way in and there was a break in the sound before Melissa Ferricks voice came crooning through the speakers. It was my favorite mix CD that I had made of her stuff and since I loved singing in the shower I proceeded to belt out the words. In between songs you poke your head in to tell me you laid something out for me to wear. Shit I thought, I left my clothes sitting on the kitchen countertop apparently worrying more about remembering to take the wine in.
I didn't want to get out, the shower was so warm and I knew the rest of the house was going to be freezing in comparison, even with the air off. Turning off the water I stood in the tub bracing myself for the blast of cold air. Pulling the curtain aside it wasn't as bad as I thought but still enough for my nipples to stand at attention. Hanging off the door handle was an apron with the words “Kiss the Chef” labeled across it. It was the only other thing there besides a towel. Ha, good thing the air is off, I thought to myself. I threw the loop over my head and tied it in the back. Grabbing my wine off the counter I padded out to the kitchen bare ass except for the apron.
You are in similar attire except your apron is yellow and mine blue. “I really think yellow is your color.” I said. Without missing a beat you turned saying that you had thought that too when you picked them up. It was warm from the stove and flames from the burners, I was quite comfortable in nothing but the apron. I poured myself another glass from the bottle beside you and watched as you flitted around the kitchen.
“I think your knot needs to be retied.” I said walking up behind you. “That's funny, I thought I tied it pretty tight.” I undid the knot and let the ties fall down at your sides. I have to lean down in order to kiss your neck as you stir whatever is sitting in front of you, smelling delicious. I knead your ass, moving my way up to your shoulders, rubbing away the tension of your day. “What's cooking?” I ask. “It smells fabulous.” “We are cooking Linguine with clams and a white wine, garlic butter sauce.”
Asking what I could do you tell me to start melting some butter and pounding some garlic. You turn to smack my ass hard enough to leave a quickly fading hand print. “Mmm, don't tease me with a good time.” I said laughing. You were working at the center island and my back was to yours using the microwave for the butter. Waiting for the timer to ding I turned to resume my massaging of you, I worked my hands up your neck and through your hair, I was pulling your hair lightly just as the the microwave went off. Turning my attention back to it, I added some freshly pounded garlic and threw it in for another thirty seconds. I was much more interested in working on you then the meal you were trying to prepare. The microwave went off again thwarting my efforts. I took the bowl out carefully and set it on the stove in front of me. It was really hot but it smelled amazing, I dipped a finger in to taste it and it was perfect, not to overpowering but enough to taste the whole dish.
I let it cool for a minute before dipping my finger in again and brought it to your lips saying to try it. “Mmm.” you moaned, with my finger still in your mouth, I almost dropped the butter making you laugh heartily at me. You grab it from me and pull me into you, turning my mouth to yours as you went. Setting the dish down behind you, you wrap your arms around my neck kissing me as you clasp your hands behind my head. Judging by the way you kiss me, cooking isn't the only thing you have in mind for us tonight. In case the apron hadn't been enough of a hint.
Your teeth pull at my lower lip, hoisting you up onto the counter I pull the apron over your head and drop it on the floor. Going to put my hand down next to you I accidentally hit the spoon that had been sticking out of the garlic butter. Drops went flying, a couple of which landed on your chest and were now rolling down towards your nipples. “And I thought you were tasty before.” I teased. I caught the drip with my tongue and went back up to where it had originally fallen. I did the same with the others and you dipped your fingers into the bowl to drip more for me to lick clean. Your middle finger traced around you nipple leaving it glistening. “Yum” I say, covering it with my mouth and using my tongue to trace around the same path your finger made. Your legs wrap around me, squeezing me tightly as I flick my tongue over your nipple. Grabbing the spoon you drip more butter onto your other nipple and move my head over forcefully. I love it when you get like that, becoming impatient in your arousal.
Rather than risk knocking off all your hard preparation I picked you up from the counter and kissing you carry you over to the table. One good swipe of my arm and silverware, napkins and the salt and pepper shaker went flying. Setting you down I turned and grabbed the butter behind me. It was still warm in contrast to the air which was once again becoming chilly away from the heat of the stove. I pulled my own apron off, shivering lightly from the exposure. Pulling me to you, you pour some of the mixture onto my chest, your mouth was warmer than the butter and felt good in the cold, it felt good period. One nipple was in your mouth, the other between your fingertips. The shades on the window were up and I thought about what a scene we must have created, naked in the kitchen, on the kitchen table no less. I could only hope that someone was out there watching. I pushed you back on the table and knelt in front of you. You exhale audibly when you feel my breath on your skin. A few drops of butter must have fallen from my chest and were now running down the inside of your thigh. My mouth caught them before they fell to the floor, making you moan at the feeling of my tongue snaking higher.
I could see how wet you were and wanted to feel it. My fingers reached up, stroking your lips then spreading them for my thumb to play with your clit. My fingers disappear inside you and I work them around looking for the raised spot on the front wall of your pelvis. I find it and stroke it relentlessly still sliding my thumb up and down your clit. You begin to buck against my fingers and I slow, not done with you yet.
The butter had cooled and I grabbed it up, moving to the microwave while telling you to stay put. Ten seconds, just enough to warm it up again but not make it hot, I dipped my finger in to be sure. Your legs were still spread, knees hanging off the end of the table. Kneeling in front of you again I tip the bowl and let the warm liquid spill down over your sex. “That feels so good.” you say then gasp when my mouth covers your mound. I lick the length of you dipping my tongue into you then running it around your clit. The butter made you extra slippery and four of my fingers slid in with no problem. I licked all the butter off of you before I returned my mouth to your clit. It was engorged with blood and your piercing was sticking up stiffly. I pushed and pulled and teased it, sucking it into my mouth and rolling it around with my tongue then pulling lightly with it between my teeth before lowering to your clit again. You were crying out more insistently, alternating between expletives and begging me not to stop. My fingers started pumping in and out of you, going harder and faster at your urging. My arm was burning from the strain. You were holding you breath as your walls began to contract around my fingers. You were coming hard, trying to pull my fingers out of you as you got sensitive. I pushed into you harder, slamming against the edge of the table. Your hand was still clenched grip tightening, but you weren't trying to pull me away anymore. I could hardly move my fingers, my whole arm was on fire. I fought against it crying out in pain as you were crying out in pleasure. You were coming for me again and I struggled to hold on. My arm was shaking against the inside of your leg, my breath still coming out ragged.
You finally sat up and as your fingers go between my legs I become 6 of my own aching. I stand there, feeling your fingers tease me, slipping around my wetness. Sliding off the end of the table you move me backward till I am against the edge of the center island. My arms were braced behind me, bent at the elbows. I looked really tan in the florescent studio lighting.
Grabbing the bowl from behind you, you pour it down my chest. Warm liquid runs down the center of my chest, spreading out slightly then running down the indent of my stomach muscle. I was leaning back and it pooled lightly at my belly button before running into the hair between my legs. Your mouth covered me hungrily, starting at the top of my breast and working your way down. My nipples were aching for your attention and you don't disappoint. Your teeth pull my nipple out from my body before releasing it and doing the same with the other.
One hand was playing between my legs, grazing up my inner thighs then around to caress my ass. Grabbing my ass roughly you bite my nipple at the same time. I was so turned on, I could feel a drip run down my leg as your mouth worked its way lower, keeping one hand on my ass to pull me closer. Feeling your hot breath on waist my hips move of their own volition. I made a noise of frustration as you moved yourself just out of my reach. You move back, this time waiting to see if I dare move. Your tongue was just barely touching me. I knew you would pull away if I moved closer. I struggled to stand still as your head moved up and down on me. Rewarding my patience you enter me with three fingers, your strokes become urgent contrasting greatly with the slow rhythm of your tongue on my clit.
I couldn't help it now my pelvis was rocking into your hand and mouth, my fingers were tight on the edge of the counter, nails digging into the wood trim. You move closer to me, applying more pressure with your tongue. I stopped moving then, I could feel my orgasm starting to build, my legs were starting to shake and you moaned, your mouth still on me. “Fuck, don't move.” I whispered. My hips spasmed and my stomach clenched. I managed to groan out “oh my god” as I came with your fingers deep inside me, clenching and unclenching on your shaking hand. I held you against me keeping your fingers inside till the waves of my orgasm subsided. “Mmm”, I said pulling you up to me. How about joining me in the shower. Pushing away from me you head to the hallway, hips swaying and ass shaking. I couldn't resist smacking it as I ran past you hitting the music and turning the heat on.