Erotic Recipes for Two

I interrupted, "You get the upstairs bedroom and there is an alarm clock you can set. I'm taking the lounge sofa."

"I can't force you from your own bed!" she protested.

"What else is a trusted gentleman to do? Today is Tuesday and I'm to defend your honor."

The next morning, long before daylight, I knocked on her door.

"Oui," came a sleepy response.

"It's morning. If I'm going to make the best buys, we need to get a start."

"It's not morning. It's still sombre!

"It's morning for me. I'm always up."

"It's too early to go waking my roommate. She could not have even been home long!" She pouted through the door.

"Then, get dressed you can come with me to the markets."

"Wearing this?"

"Maybe we can find something a little warmer. Check the upstairs closet".

"Give me a few minutes."

"You've got ten. Daylight is burning!"

"It's not light yet."

"Figure of speech."

It had rained sometime during the night. The streets were wet and a small chill wind lifted fallen leaves down the avenues.

She followed me around the market plaza, sleepily and slow until eventually getting into the spirit of it and started making her own purchases. The long tables in the plaza were filled high with fresh produce from the farms. We stopped in front of a baker's rack full of fragrant breads.

"I didn't know bread could smell this good."

"That's because it's fresh from the oven."

"Do you make bread Hatch?"

"Been known to, but trust me. His is a lot better."

The owner of the bakery, a swarthy man I've known for years spoke up. "Maybe because you are hungry and my bread is as fresh as it gets. Hello, Hatch. Who is this agre'able young women?"

"I rescued her earlier and can't get rid of her", I answered handing some francs to him paying for the purchase.

"Can't get rid of me? I thought I was great company!"

"Beautiful company, but I can't let you go to my head." We walked on quiet both thinking.

She shivered. "It's getting colder."

"It's always coldest before dawn. I heard that somewhere. Maybe from an old black and white movie. I slipped out of my coat and draped it over her shoulders.

She snuggled into it. "Did you learn that from a movie also?" She hugged herself, "Warm as a cookie." Sniffed. "Now I smell like you."

"Stinky?"

"No. Fresh earth and," she wrinkled her noise "fishy and kind of.... solid."

"It's all from the stuff I buy here".

"Aren't you cold now?" she asked.

"Some."

She smiled and opened wide the coat that dwarfed her. "Come here and I'll warm you up."

I slipped in pulling her close. My arms wrapped around her slim back. Suddenly the warmth and mingled smells of her in my old comfortable coat released the last bastions that had been holding us, and I lifted her face passionately with my hands, up in a long kiss which she did not pull away from.

"Well..."

"Anaïs, I don't want you taking this the wrong way, but I need you. Here and now," I finished urgently.

"No drinks...small talk...seduction?" she looked around the Plaza. "No foreplay or warming up?" You mean right here and right now? You don't give a girl much warning."

"Look, I'm already over the edge. It's been a while. You have choices here but I'm too far along to have any. You can head back to the car and I will catch up after I take care of (I tried to be delicate) more urgent matters, or you can help. Right here and Now!" I looked around the Plaza and saw a small porch still in the shadows of the early morning light. Pointed at it," That looks good to me."

Swept up by the heat, urgency and passions, I pulled her sideways into the dark archway. It opened onto a small porch.

I moved her to the porch rail and had her sit on it facing me. She wanted foreplay. I could give her a little. I fell to my knees and lifted her skirt.

She paused, evaluated, "I didn't say I wouldn't, but isn't this kind of nasty out here in public?"

At this sign of acceptance, I grabbed her panties and slipped them down to her ankles where she stepped out of them. Little realizing the future circumstances that would make her leave them on the porch.

"Why do I feel like one of those blowup dolls?" She asked as she braced against the porch railing.

I spread her folds so I could get deeper into the tasty areas. She jerked slightly when she felt my tongue hit her clit. Then she groaned when delved deeper and I hit her spot. "Anything wrong," I asked?

"Not a bit. Keep going. I like this a lot. More please!"

Soon her head was arched back pushing her pelvis closer to my face and she was making these delicious sounds indicating Anais was getting into this. I enjoy providing fair value and there was nothing wrong with warming her up a little...

I could have done this forever however panting she eagerly reached down fumbling with my belt and zipper.

As my pants dropped to my ankles she asked, "What is that?" She was almost speechless. My huge cock was stiff at full mast pointing to the ceiling. "You are built like a donkey!"

I smiled in spite of the pressure," I've seen smaller donkeys".

"And you want me to do what?" She pointed. "With that!".

"You have a choice." I had one fist wrapped around my erection pulling on it and if anything, this made me firmer and larger. The problem was not so much in the length and without bragging I admit it's not exactly small but the real problem was girth. My big hand didn't completely wrap it.

"I was going to suggest that I blow you, but there is no way I'm able to get that donkey cock into my mouth!"

I moved behind her, pulling my cock down to be level for entry and spreading her damp labia with the other hand. She gasped maybe with the first touch of the cock or the realization of what was demanding entrance.

"I shouldn't be doing this", she warned more to herself than to me.

She shrugged. "It's the challenge however I'm sure I'll be blaming myself in the morning." She turned again with her hair sweeping aside to look at my cock again. "You do look like you might be in some distress."

I shoved in gentle, but not far. With a tool this large there was no coaxing or gentleness, if it was to be done it had to be forced. Remember the cock has no morality. It wants what it wants. I pushed in deeper.

"Please...pleaseeeeee...pleaseeeeee....stop, pleaseeeee!" Anaïs cried. I knew it hurt, heck I was hurting too but we were now way beyond stopping. Any moment I was expecting a climax of cum. I usually last a lot longer but this felt urgent.

Trying to be gentle, however as small as she was and as fat as my cock I pressured forward going deeper as she clenched her teeth in pain. She tossed her long silky hair again whipping from side to side, which only excited me more. I could feel myself stiffening even harder into a steel rod and small quivers were signaling the imminent delivery of a load of cum. She felt this and through clinched teeth said "Ohhhhhhhhh!" she groaned, at least fuck me before you cum. Ouuch, don't use me like a blow up doll."

Through inhuman resolve I held back and slowed thrusting as gentle as possible, not fast because of the tightness but I eased in, withdrew and repeated slowly as I held back. This was going to be extraordinary great. Maybe the best ever.

"Aieeeeee....ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...argggg!" Anaïs shrieked from the pain or pleasure. I couldn't tell which and, in the moment, didn't care. The cock knows what it wants. We were heading over the edge and all I could be was grateful.

"Stop, someone is coming!" she whispered. Why she whispered I didn't know after all of the noise we had been making.

I stopped and, in the process, buried my shaft up to my balls which brought another stifled expression of pain which Anaïs tried again to muffle. We stayed locked in this tableau until the solitary figure took its time walking out of the Plaza.

Anaïs then tried some experimental thrusts of her own as she pulled forward than pushed to bury me deeper again. She was tight. Even though I felt she might be getting with the program, each of her efforts was followed with grimaces.

Everything following was immediate, primeval and desperate. One of those times when you don't stop and think. Thinking and feeling gets in the way of good sex. Sometimes it has to be about the moment and your pleasure.

There was no time for patience, politeness or concern. Only great need. Raw sex has no pretense of being anything else.

I pinned Anais against the porch wall and was deep inside her. I reached around and grabbed her breast to secure her against me and then we started working. We were one unit working together through what had now become common need. I was turned on by this distressed beauty's chant and reaction. "Oh...oh...oh..oh..oh...yesssssssss...god!" All in timing with each insistent thrust. I was owning her.

I slowed a moment with an interesting insight. I've always known women have a special grace that lifts them above men. This is why we chase them. The only time a man can really share their grace is for the few moments when we are bonded inside them. Women work on many more levels than we who have more basic needs.

My pants were down around my ankles; long gentle strokes now gave sway to quick, demanding and desperate. We were as quiet as possible except for the uncontainable sighs and the slaps against the wall until she let out an ear-piercing scream with her climax.

This proved to be all I could take as my reflexes pushed a final plunge to the hilt of my balls. I arched my body into hers, threw my head back and felt the hot spasms as the first storm of jism unload. "AAAAAAHHHH! I could visualize the white flood filling her up as I knew the girth prevented any escape of the little swimmers. I pumped all I had and tried to resurrect a few more.

Then at this moment it happened! There was this unnatural screech behind me and buffeting blows from something!

Now was not a good time to deal with whatever was behind us as I continued pumping everything remaining, I could dredge into Anaïs until there was nothing left and I could resurface from the heat.

Fully drained as I've never been before, I turned to find out what in the hell was happening. It was an old crone with a broom plummeting us. She was upset mad and cursing so fast in French that I could not follow!

Anaïs ran from the porch and I followed trying to pull my pants up from my ankles before I tripped. Laughing we rounded the corner, groceries forgotten on the old lady's front stoop.

"I think we avoir besoin de to get out of here before she calls the gendarmerie," Anaïs gasped, out of breathe recomposing.

"I know a great place for an early breakfast."

She picked up the sentence, "and then maybe back to your place where we can finish this up prop

Joyeux

"Hatch, phone for you!" yelled Paul from his cubbyhole office, obviously annoyed by the interruption. "It had better not be that new girl of yours!"

Paul was the head chef and because I'm the owner's son he seems to feel it was always his duty to be in a bad mood. As if that could get more work out of us. Mainly we ignored him or at least I did. Sometimes it's good to be the prince in the kingdom. Paul knows someday I will be his boss and this irritates him.

I stepped around the mismatch of preparation tables, always brought second hand, used and on the cheap. The kitchen needs a remodel in the worst way imaginable however we carry on. "It's not Anaïs, she's out of town."

"Well, it's some girl."

I grinned in spite of his bad humor, maybe just to annoy him. He hates that. I picked up the phone. "Hatch Beauchamp here."

Monsieur Beauchamp, this is Irene, executive assistant to Chef Geostoph. He has asked me to invite you to Brunch today."

I stopped in my tracks, mortified. The last time I had seen the famous chef had been at an exclusive catered private party, where my actions had been anything but impressive. I didn't think he even knows how to find me?

"Are you sure you called the right person? I doubt he really wants to see me, after what happened last time."

She seemed rushed and annoyed, maybe it was catching? "He was insistent, and I had to do a lot of research to find you. Will you come?"

I hesitated. Surely, he couldn't be holding a grudge this long, or maybe? At least it would give me a chance to apologize...again. Or this could be something really interesting? I don't get calls from four-star Michelin Chefs every day. "When?"

"Right away."

I cupped the phone and turned to face Paul. "I've got some urgent business and need to go out."

He gave me one of his typical scowls which I brushed off. "Preparation is almost finished and there's not much to do before lunch service," I amended.

He started on his normal tirade "I thought so, another girl..."

I interrupted, "I've been invited by Chef Geostoph, to attend brunch.

Turning back to the phone. "I'll be there in a half hour".

"Please come in the back door. We are not open yet."

Hanging the phone up, Paul got in my face. "You liar, just making up excuses. Mark my words, they will not let you though the front door!!"

I waited for a pause in his diatribe. Grinned back and said "Actually they did say to use the back entrance."

This infuriated him further. "Bah! You take too much advantage that your father owns this place."

"It's nepotism. You should try it."

He glared harder as I slipped off the apron. Paul is all bark but has no real bite. It helps to be the owner's kid. He can't fire me though he can make life difficult.

The rear entrance of the Chef's restaurant was less than impressive. It was like the back of any kitchen. This was an alley with dumpsters. I debated about knocking but this felt strange so I entered to find the rear of the kitchen. A lot different from the kitchen where I worked. It was all gleaming stainless-steel surfaces. There were several workers in white moving purposefully around rushing and concentrating on tasks.

I interrupted a young lady and inquired where to find the chef. When she turned to face me, I was taken aback by her green eyes, they reminded me of someone I couldn't quite place. She also reminded me of the timeless beauty of a younger Andie MacDowell.

"He's busy." Curt to the point with no nonsense.

I think he wants to see me or at least he asked me to come by. Hatch Beauchamp."

Her demeanor softened slightly, "I've heard him mention you."

"Anything good?"

She smiled at this "He said you might be one of the few men he has ever met with principals."

She led me around to his office where he was sitting behind a desk giving instructions to two others. He noticed my presence and dismissed them. They left in a hurry and looked eager to be getting out of his attention.

The chef addressed the girl that had brought me in. "Thanks Absinthe." He nodded to her in brief introduction, "My daughter."

Then I remembered where I had seen eyes like that before. His. They looked a lot better on her.

"Hatch, good to see you again. I imagine you wonder why I called?"

"I thought it was to invite me to brunch".

"Being a chef of some celebrity is kind of like being a rock star," he smiled. To achieve everything, I must have a trusted entourage". He paused looking somewhat pensive. "I was impressed by your forthright attitude, and did some research on you. From what I heard you are a fairly good chef yourself."

"Thank you, sir; but nowhere in your league. I'm still not certain why I'm here?"

"Consider it an interview for my entourage. Slightly above scullery help," he scowled," but not much." I'm putting you in charge of a line in my kitchen for today's brunch service as a tryout."

I stood speechless.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I'm not sure. I am flattered; however, I do have current obligations."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself. I will try you on the line, then we see how you do."

"Today?"

He slaps me on the back. "Today is as good as any. This isn't anything you can study for. You are either born to it or you are not. Let's get you started."

Chef Geostoph walked me out into the kitchen and stopped in front of a wirily young man. "Jamie, you have the day off."

"Did I do something wrong, chef?"

"I'm rewarding you with the afternoon off...with pay."

Jamie looked around nervously. "What about the service?"

"Jamie, meet Hatch. I'm putting him in charge of your line for the afternoon."

Jamie looked very nervous but said "Yes chef. Thank you."

"Hatch, you can find an apron in the supply closet over there. Normally I would start someone off working a nominal position on the line, however my reports indicate you've done that. Today you are in charge of the line. Menus and recipes are on the wall. Don't disappoint me." He walked off already distracted by other business.

I stood perplexed for the moment not knowing where to dive in then figured all or nothing and nothing to lose.

I moved down the line introducing myself to the cooks and satisfied myself as to what everyone was assigned to even if I couldn't remember the names. After all this was just for fun.

Once satisfied, production was underway. The Brunch was to be served buffet style, I compared what was being prepared against the chef's menus. The young lady in vegetable prep seemed to be lagging so I stepped in to assist with the chopping. Once busy doing something I felt a lot less nervous.

Time passed incredibly fast. Before the doors opened, I checked everything going to the buffet table at the pass for quality. Sent some minor things back for quick repair but I felt satisfied and thanked the line for their work. I've worked under too many that took the line for granted when the truth is that this is where the real work is done. These people can make or break a chef. Additionally, where I come from, I'm one of them.

Chef Geostoph came back to check on me as soon as we had the buffet loaded. He stopped and inspected some items, shook his head and then walked over. "Not bad, could be better with training. Come on over and sit at my table".

Once we had served ourselves and was seated, he started. "What did you think of the line?"

"All in all, they seem decent hardworking people. They did everything they could to support me. If there is any fault today, its mine. I was in charge."

"Did I complain?"

"You didn't look happy."

"I'm never happy." I'm professional, but I enjoy the food and the challenge. It's more than a job. If it's a job you never get promoted off the line. Food speaks to a great chef." He smiled. "Does it speak to you?

I frowned. "I don't think it speaks, but I can feel it in other ways."

These are attitudes and pride you cannot learn on the line. You have to be born to it. To be great you have to be lucky. Are you lucky?

I looked him in the eyes with a stare. "Enough beating around the bush. How did I do?

"Not bad but I'm still undecided."

The hostess took this moment to apologetic interrupt our conversation. "Chef, Madam Joyeux

from the Paris Live newspaper is here and says you promised her an interview."

Chef, looked at me. "Hatch, what did I tell you when we first met?"

I stared back frantically digging for the memory. "A chef is like a rock star?"

"Exactly, my time is always required and the public must be appeased. You are going to take this interview for me. We will call it another step of your evaluation. Being on the entourage you must be able to make decisions as well as cook."

"Remember reputations are easily lost and gained in this business and the public is our client. See what you can do to influence more customers for my restaurant. The pantry should be vacant; you can take her in there." He gestured to a side door to the kitchen and instructed the hostess to escort the reporter to the pantry.