Kim and Me Ch. 10

I turned on sound on the TV again. Red Dwarf was over, but they were back to Blackadder again, with the rarely-shown Blackadder special entitled "The Cavalier Years" about the English civil war. Neither of us had seen it and we laughed almost continually. When the special ended and we were back in pledge drive exhortations, I said "It's probably time to start thinking about dinner. Particularly if we keep burning up the calories the way we seem to."

"What's on the menu again if we stay here?" Kim said.

"I can make prawn vindaloo or T-bone steaks and potatoes," I said.

"Steak sounds like what I'd like. Rare, please. And a potato."

"Your wish is my command, kiddo. I'd like you to stay here on the couch and keep the TV on and I'll bustle about the kitchen and make dinner."

"I do so love it that you're housetrained already to wait on me hand and foot," Kim said. She stretched out on the part of the couch I'd just vacated. As I headed into the kitchen, I heard Kim say "Would I be pushing it if I asked you to peel me a grape?"

"I dunno," I said. "It depends: what's in it for me?"

"The undeniable pleasure and thrill for you of peeling a grape for me."

"Then, yes, you'd definitely be pushing it!"

"Just checking."

I poked my head out and said "I could provide wine and nibbly things. Food, that is."

"I'm sure I'd manage. I love your taste in wines. What do you propose for this meal?"

I poked my head out of the kitchen and said, "Well, I was thinking that since we're going to have heavy, rich red meat, we'd go for a wine with similar characteristics. How about a nice oaky zinfandel? I have a favorite from Ridge. It's still young, but it's awfully good."

Kim spread her legs lewdly and said "Take me, I'm yours!" She giggled.

"After dinner. And it's a wonder they actually let you out in decent company considering how thin that veneer of respectability is." I returned to the kitchen and got the bottle of zinfandel from the refrigerator and rummaged for a corkscrew.

"It's plenty thick, but I figure there's no reason to waste it on you; you'd just plow right through it anyway," Kim retorted.

One loud popping noise later, I walked into the living room bearing an open bottle and two wine glasses. I poured a healthy glass for each of us and handed one to Kim. We clinked glasses and drank. Kim's eyes lit up and she said "I love it! Where do youfind these?"

"I have spies in every major city," I said. "I've always liked Ridge Zinfandels and I tend to keep a few of them around for meals that need a red that stands up to almost anything."

"But it's so meaty!" Kim said, taking another swallow.

"That's why I originally tried it. I wanted a good red that was something you could have an actual tankard of and enjoy it. This seemed to fit the bill and I've been a fan ever since."

"Mmmmmmm," Kim said. "Well, let me try this with food and see what it does. You did suggest nibbly food?" She batted her eyes at my conspicuously.

"Coming right up, princess!" I walked to the refrigerator and got the cheese tray I'd prepared yesterday, stripped the plastic wrap from it, and carried it into the living room. I set it down on the coffee table with a flourish and pulled the coffee table back to its proper position by the couch.

"Okay, here's brie, of course, and a very sharp white cheddar, and a smoked havarti that's not bad. I have three kinds of crackers to go with the cheese: Carr's water biscuits, a pepper flatbread that's tangy, and little toasted rye crackers for contrast. They'll probably be best with the cheddar and should stand up to the wine very nicely. The gherkins in the center are mostly to clear the palate between cheeses."

Kim sighed and held up her arms for me to hug her. I did. She said against my neck, "I was right. Youare making some lucky woman very happy!" Kim made a happy noise and let go and said "All right, cutie, go make me dinner and make me even happier. I'm going to lie on the couch, watch TV, eat cheese and crackers, drink wine, and listen to you being domestic."

"Oh, yes, mistress, glad to do it, yes, ma'am!" I said, bowing and ducking as I backed into the kitchen. Kim burst out laughing.

Getting dinner started was actually fairly simple. I pricked the potatoes and chucked them into the oven, which was well on its way to heating up to 425 degrees. I set the timer for 45 minutes so I could check on them and see how much longer they needed at that point. With the potatoes started, I pulled the steaks from the meat drawer, unwrapped them, and put them on a broiling tray. I dusted them with salt, pepper, and a little granulated garlic, then put the tray back in the fridge. After washing my hands to get the raw meat off, I pulled half a dozen salad ingredients out and started making a large salad.

Kim was watching another show on the PBS fund drive, "The Vicar of Dibley." She yelled, "Come here and look at this!" I scampered out and saw Dawn French for the first time. She was dressed in a typical English vicar's outfit and looked really good.

"I know you like large women, so I wanted you to take a gander at her," Kim said.

"Oh, my, she's scrumptious, she is!" I said. "I'd do her in a New York minute!"

"I wouldhope that you'd last longer than that, but I kinda thought that that'd be your reaction." Kim smiled at me. "And by the way, this brie is wonderful! I like brie, but it's hard to tell a good brie from a bad brie."

"There's a trick to it," I said, smirking. I walked back to the kitchen and continued slicing scallions for the salad and for garnishing the potatoes.

After a pause, I heard an exasperated voice from the other "I'm sure there's a trick to it, you idiot! Were you actually going to share this trick with me?"

"Well, I don't know, Kim. It's fairly, um, sophisticated," I replied.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Kim said.

I walked to the entrance to the living room and leaned against the wall. "Are you really sure?" I said in a bantering tone.

"Yes, I'm really sure," Kim said.

"Okay, here's how: I want you to smell your fingers, the ones you were using to play with your yourself," I said.

"What,exactly, has this got to do with brie?" Kim said suspiciously.

"Trust me, honey, would you just do this?"

"You're strange. Youdo know that, I hope?"

"Yes, but it's a defining characteristic and is neither here nor there. Work with me for a moment on this." Kim gave me a hard-but-puzzled look and raised her hand and smelled it deeply.

"It smells good. I've always liked the way I smell," she said.

"Not surprised; I find it intoxicating myself. Okay, sniff the wine or a gherkin or something to clear your nose and palate for a moment." Kim did so.

"Now, pick up a chunk of brie and smell the rind where it's thickest. It won't be a really strong smell, but look for it." Kim picked up the biggest piece of brie on the tray and carefully smelled the rind on the edge. Her eyes widened and she looked at me and said "Are you telling me that you look for cheese that smells like pussy?"

I burst out laughing. "Yes, that's exactly right."

"You are one seriously weird guy!" Kim said. She took a long smell again and said in quieter tones, "Youreally look for a cheese that smells like pussy?"

I nodded. "I know it sounds like the weirdest thing you've ever heard, but it works. The cheese shouldn't smell strong or unpleasant and it should have that high, clean, fragrant aroma. Just like an aroused pussy in good health."

Kim took a tiny bite of the rind and chewed it carefully, then smelled her palm again. "I don't know if I should burst out laughing or be completely appalled," she said. She took another small bite of cheese and said "But you sure do know how to pick brie, I'll give you that."

"The proof is in the pudding. Or the pussy. Whichever, take your pick. It works. I've used it for years, but I rarely tell anyone how I do it." I ducked back into the kitchen just as Kim's yell of "You're apervert!" followed me. I cackled.

A few minutes later, I'd finished making the salad and put it into the refrigerator to await dinner. I scraped the excess scallions into a small bowl and added them to the refrigerator. I said "Do you want butter and sour cream for your potato?"

"Yes, please!"

"I can also make sourdough garlic bread if you like."

"Ummmm... No, I think we'll do fine with the menu as is. Thank you!"

"Okay, honey!" I put sour cream into a matching bowl and put that into the fridge, then glanced at the clock. Another 15 minutes on the timer, so I poked the potatoes with a fork. They were doing nicely, but maybe a little longer would be good. I reset the timer for 25 minutes.

I came into the living room and said "Scoot over, cutie." Kim pulled her feet up and I sat down. She immediately put her feet on my lap. I caressed her feet gently and she wiggled her toes at me.

"We've got 25 minutes until I put the steaks in the broiler. What's on the tube?"

"Another Vicar of Dibley episode is starting in a few minutes, so you'll probably get to see most of it," Kim said.

We watched the next episode together. I rubbed Kim's feet throughout. I had some of the sharp cheese and rye crackers and was pleased to discover that they did fine against the wine. About 3/4 of the way through the show, I heard the timer ding. I said, "Excuse me, petal, it's time to do things to the steaks." I lifted her feet gently off my lap and repositioned them so I could stand up. "Rare, right?"

"Yes, please, but warm rare, not cold rare. Think of it as a medium rare on the rare side."

"Pretty much how I like mine," I said. As I stood up, Kim grabbed my hand and pulled me to her. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with her mouth open. She looked at me and said "I really do love you, you know," and kissed me again.

"It's mutual, honey. I'm glad you're here." I stroked her cheek and trailed down to cup her right breast for a moment. "You're wonderful." I headed into the kitchen and checked the potatoes--almost done; the extra 15 minutes for the broiling would crisp them up just right. I cranked the heat up another 25 degrees just to make sure the skins got crackly.

I turned on the broiler oven and pulled the broiler tray out of the refrigerator. I set the broiler's timer for 7 minutes and slipped the tray in. I opened the kitchen door to get a little air in; broiling steaks this big would be a bit smoky. I pulled out the salad, dressed it with a Caesar dressing I was fond of, and set it on the table. Plates, silverware, and napkins followed, along with glasses of ice water and the remainder of the wine. The butter dish and the bowls of scallions and sour cream rounded out the table setting.

The timer was down to a minute and a half, so I poked my head around the corner and watched the end of the Vicar of Dibley episode. About the time the credits started rolling, the timer went off. I flipped the steaks and shoved them back under the broiler. It looked like they'd be good for another five minutes, so I set the timer accordingly. I turned the oven off and left the potatoes in for the last five minutes.

There was nothing left to do, so I walked back to the couch and leaned over the back of it. Kim was stretched out on the couch again. Her robe had fallen open rather fetchingly and most of her was exposed. I ran my hand over her breasts and tummy and she smiled up at me. My right hand found its way down her tummy to her pubic mound and I cupped her pussy. Kim spread her legs and I slipped my middle finger inside her and gently probed her. She stretched and made a happy noise and I pushed my finger in deeper.

"I love it when you play with me," she said, squeezing her nipples between her fingers. I smiled and said "There's very little else I'd like to do, except possibly to tell you that dinner is about ready."

"How soon is 'about ready' in this case?" Kim asked.

"About three and a half minutes from now," I said.

"See if you can make me cum between now and then," Kim said.

"You're incorrigible!" I said.

"Yes, I am. So, wanna try?"

"Very much so!" Kim lifted her leg and parked her foot on the edge of the couch. I said "We can do better," and put anchored her foot on my left side. She was now splayed wide open, with her left leg straight up and her right leg dangling off the edge of the couch. I pulled my hand out for a second (there was an "Awww!" from Kim), spat on my fingers, and put my middle and ring fingers inside her. I snaked them up to find her G-spot, not so much to make her squirt as to provide a lot of fast, hard stimulation.

Kim was pulling her nipples hard, squeezing way back into the areolae. She was heating up already. Her chest was beginning to blush slightly and she had her head thrown back and her eyes shut. I tapped her G-spot gently and got the response I was looking for. My thumb ran up and down one side of her clit and she moaned loudly and arched off the couch. I kept it up, dipping into her pussy a couple of times for more lubrication.

Kim bit her lower lip hard and pulled her nipples so hard her breasts were pulled straight up. She made a couple of small "Uh, uh!" noises and then exploded, arching high off the couch and pushing into my hand. She didn't squirt this time, but I did feel her sloshing a little with extra juice as she came. I tickled her clit with my thumb until she dropped to the couch and said "Stop, stop, stop!"

I carefully pulled my fingers free and she grabbed my hand and kissed and sucked them. At that moment, I heard the timer go off. I pulled my hand away and headed towards the kitchen, saying, "Better go wash your hands, honey, it's time for dinner." I had just vanished around the corner to the kitchen when I leaned back until I could see Kim and said with a grin, "But we're very informal here: you don't need to dress."