Erotic Recipes for Two

"Monsieur Geostoph it is so pleasant to meet you." Madam Joyeux entered with her hand extended. "You are younger than I expected!"

"And I'm sure you are not what he expected." I looked her up and down. Early 30s, in a sundress that was imitating a Tequila Sunrise and a soft Jamaican accent and a clear chocolate complexion. "I'm sorry. I'm Hatch Beauchamp, Chef Geostoph's", paused trying to figure what to say, "assistant". "He is not able to meet you and asked me to fill in for the interview."

She went in an instant from a professional air to a pout. She also had great lips. "I've had this appointment set up for weeks! He can't do this to me."

"I'm afraid the Chef is really busy. It's no intentional slight to you, just things have come up. Make the best of it. I might be able to answer some of your questions."

She smiled trying to make the best of it. "How close are you to the Chef?"

"I'm part of what he calls his entourage. I don't think anyone is really what I would call close. We run his errands, take care of the business and have his ear."

She shrugged and pulled a IPAD tablet from her purse and sat down. "Is it true he is opening a new "chain restaurant in Nice?"

"Well, I would hardly consider it a chain in the same sense that you think of corporate restaurants. Each of his locations is a completely different experience. His trusted chefs provide menus based using the local ingredients and their specialty skills. He oversees the quality, trains staff and approves the menus. I'm sure it takes a lot of his time managing them."

She finished typing. "Where does he get the inspirations for his menus?"

I paused remembering an article of his I had read. "Local country cuisine, farm raised produce. He takes into account the local markets and what the area is famous for. Every location is famous for its unique vegetables, cheese or meat. He always says that freshness brings out the best flavors".

"That's the same drivel I get from reading any of the magazines. Give me the real dirt since you say you know him so well. Are the stories true?"

"I wouldn't know. Haven't heard any stories... and if I had I'm not sharing."

She consulted her notes. "Then you don't know about him taking," she paused and looked closely at me," some of his friends to a house of bad repute and paying for the services of all of the girls?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"He provided girls for each of his friends and then used remaining ones for himself. The legend claims that anyhow. My investigation in this is exaggerated he only had five or six girls himself." She snapped the tablet closed with a defiant glare.

"What the Chef does in his private life is his private life. I can't comment on anything I don't know about."

"From my sources this is only one incident. There are more. He seems to be quite a party animal."

"Hmmm," she switches tracks," seems like we are going do have to do this the hard way. I want a first-person interview, introduction to the chef." She seemed pissed. "Hatch, you say you have his ear so I guess this means I have to go though you to get to him. I'm a woman that expects to have things my way. What do you think we should do about this?" she paused briefly. "You can consider this to be your lucky day!" She closed our personal spaces, rose on tiptoes and stuck a warm tongue in my ear. "What do you think? You want to get lucky today?"

A flash of warmth had traveled from my ear to my toes and there was now a large growing budge in my pants. I thought I had a clear understanding of what was happening and suddenly found I was feeling lucky.

She reached around me and untied the apron. "Well, look what we have here." Her hands were next fumbling with my belt and I was not objecting.

It always amasses me the trouble women have with men's belts. Truthfully from the moment she had entered the pantry I had felt a certain part of my anatomy getting harder so when it sprang out of concealment while not fully aroused it was taking an interest in the surroundings. I was feeling very lucky, just hoping no one needed to get anything from the pantry.

Joyeux dropped to her knees and reached up to grab my cock in a firm if not inviting grasp. "Hatch, do we have an understanding? Will you get me into an interview with the Chef?" she tugged a little painfully. "I'll make it worth your attention."

I was a little shocked at the rather aggressive attitude. She must want this story really bad, maybe as much as I was wanting her. All I managed to squeak out was, "Deal."

Her grip softened and got more friendly. She moved closer and bent her head over my cock and I felt her warm lips. I reached my hands down into her dreadlocks as her lips locked around the crown of my shaft.

"Hmmff," she tried talking around the growing penis, "don..'t for..get deal".

My hands wrapped in her hair gently guided her head up and down in a regular movement than as such things have affect the cock kept growing until she was gagging. "Argggggggg gggggg," she pulled back "Sorry obviously this isn't going to work. Plan B".

"We fuck?" I asked hopefully.

"No, I have something else you might enjoy. Most men do."

"You want this interview really bad?" I asked.

"In the worst way." She stood lifted the sundress over her head and it was my turn to be startled. No underwear. In a city that flatters itself for its lingerie, she wore nothing and looked delicious in her skin. Something between my legs took another sudden growth spurt. Lucky day.

She pulled a chair up next to the prep table, and then hopped from the chair onto the table to sit.

I dropped my pants and took the offered chair, below her. She kicked off her shoes and I arched a questioning eyebrow as I was clueless as to what was next.

"Hatch, have you ever had a footjob?"

Her feet were long dark as the rest of her except the soles were lighter. Cute toes but a little short.

"Is that what we are going to do now?"

"No, it's what I'm going to do. You just sit there and enjoy it while I do you."

Suddenly the idea of spreading a puddle of white slimy cum across those perfect feet sounded like something I might be able to get enthusiastic about.

She reached out with one foot and begin caressing the side of my shaft with her curved arch, then her toes reached further down to lift my balls. Believe it or not I surprised myself growing even bigger. This might be the hardest and stiffness I have ever been. I just hoped no one walked into the pantry.

I reached over grabbing her other foot and pressed it to the other side of my cock. Lucky day!

I felt movement at her feet, as both of her trim ankles pinned and pressed my penis back while she secured a better grip with the soles of her feet. I knew I was destined for a major climax. By this time, I didn't care who walked in. This was happening.

Her ankles lifted a bit and her dainty feet were wrapped around my thick cock. She pulled a long lingering stroke with a dark look to her eyes. This was nasty. She was actually fucking me between her now slick soles, slippery from the flow of my leaking cock. Just a little bit more and I would be there. I reached out and grabbed her ankles.

My large hands around her ankles were forcing

her to stroke where she had begun. Her dainty

feet were moving up and down, then she gripped me between her big toes and really went to work. Though I was warm, my length and girth must make me seem to be the size of a thick log.

Fucking the soft delicate soles of this beautiful woman had me groaning softly with each of her pleasuring stroke.

I heard a soft moan from her and looked up at eyes that were glazing over, and hardened tits. She obviously was getting into it also. She was actually rubbing her soles tightly onto my massive cock, masturbating my thick shiny bar.

Joyeux squeezed harder between her delicate soles, pumping faster and faster.

Thick slivery venom started to drool onto her feet. Without thinking, Joyeux's cupped soles moved up to cup the thick cockhead, rubbing the slimy mucous about, then began pumping her cum slick soles faster and faster down the length of my quivering snake. Then she hesitated and came to a full stop.

"Hatch, remember when I said I always get what I want? Well, I want to ride that thing of yours. I've never seen anyone so...endowed."

Coming down off my last peak and landing back on earth again I replied, "We might be able to arrange that."

There's only one problem, well make that two. I need two promises from you."

"Well why don't you come over here and sit on it while we discuss those promises."

She grinned at my persuasion. "Not until you promise. First, I can be your playpen. You can do anything you want to amuse yourself in me, just don't let me climax."

"And the second promise is you can't cum inside me!" She looked serious so I took her serious.

"Care to explain?"

She sighed. When I climax I have this involuntary scream thing." She nodded, "We don't want to scare people".

"That loud?" I inquired and she nodded with the same serious look. "I climax really loud. We don't want the chef to know you fucked me on his prep table."

"Well, we can try but your climax is up to you. Why can't I cum in you?"

"That's more difficult. I'm getting married in two weeks and I'm off the pill."

"So, you want your first child to be your husbands, that's understandable."

She frowned. "No, I want my first conception to be sired by the Chef."

I think my mouth may have dropped open. "OK, we are wasting time let's fuck."

She hopped off of the table and came close. "I think I can fit you in but let's start out gentle." She reached over and did a few more quick strokes of my penis. Lucky, lucky day. What more can I say.

Standing she was even more impressive. Any attempt to describe true beauty is wasted words. I lifted her up pressing those breasts and torso close in a hug as I set her up on top of my cock aligned to let gravity do its job. I released her and she slid down my cock to the root in one long slow penetration.

"Oweeeeeeeee..that hurts. It feels like I'm being fucked by a horse. Never been this stuffed. Now that you are in, big boy do your thing." She closed her eyes. Remember I'm your playpen so do your worst," then she smiled," or maybe we should say your best."

I lifted her up again than back down to hear her gasp through clenched teeth. "Yessss, ride em cowboy."

She was sopping wet and I started thrusting. Not kind and gentle but long and demanding.

Are you all the way in?"

"Got a few more inches to play with." She reached between us and grabbed it again and gave a few more pumps jarring us both. "God, I think you are in my throat" "Go for it, I need the full experience but remember no cumming."

I gave another massive thrust which buried me to the balls and evoked a mouse like squeal from her. Then I laid her back on the table with me on top. Once rearranged I raised up higher so I could pile drive her in deep quick strokes that caused her eyes to roll back.

"Yes...Yeal....thats the way...Fuck me hard."

Well she was making the rules so I bent to comply. Long hard strokes that made squishy noises with each thrust and tiny gasps at the depth of the penetrations. After all she was my playpen and I'm going to exercise that clause of the deal to the fullest extent. By the time I finish pounding her she would be asking chef who?

"Force meee...take me."

So, I held her arms back and wrapped my legs over each of hers, pinning her down while she pretended to squirm.

"Make me fuck you. Make this yours. Anything...you want." She gasped getting into the game.

Suddenly at the end of one of my power thrusts I felt a pause and than a wave ran up her body from her cunt on up as my penis was squeezed in a death grip. Then there was this scream. I'm not sure how to describe it but I imagine if I had ever heard a banshee, it would be the same. Bloodcurdling and really, really loud!

In a gymnastic trick she rolled off of me looking mortified. "I warned you!"

The normal sounds of a dining room, the clinking of plates abruptly stopped and then after a minute of silence restarted. Maybe we hadn't been noticed? I pretended.

"OK Hatch, we still have a problem to take care of. You still need to cum. That thing must be hurting."

She grasped my shaft with both fists and begun pumping hard and fast. The same way a guy would masturbate.

In a moment of inspiration, I grabbed a glass off of a nearby shelf. A long-stemmed martini glass. Wide mouth perfect for catching my cum. Once I had the glass placed to catch, she redoubled her efforts and that was all it took. "Aioeee...yes" Spurt after spurt of milky white cum landed in the clear glass. Or at least most of it. Getting off is not a ballistically exact science.

"Give me that," and she reached for the glass, held it up to the light admiringly and upended it so it would drip into her mouth. When finished she raised up and opened her mouth wide to show me the ball of cum, she was still savoring.

I'm not sure why I consider each fuck the best fuck but this was going high in my record books.

Concerned now about someone coming in, we quickly cleaned each other and dressed. Leaving she leaned forward kissed me slowly and whispered. "Very nice, don't forget the deal."

She reached into her purse pulled out a business card. "Give this to the chef." Then she handed me a second card. "Call me, we never finished that footjob."

With that she was gone and recomposing myself I went back to the chef's table.

He had a funny smile. "Well Hatch, how did the interview go?"

I merely handed him her card. "This is one I think is worth you taking care of yourself."

"Are you interested in the job? I told you it was like a rock star."

"No sir, as I already told you I have a job."

"In that case feel free to come here as a friend anytime and when I'm in need I feel I can call on you."

He turned to the table. "Absinthe, please bring me a martini."

She frowned at the request, "Isn't it kind of early?"

"This one's not for drinking."

Obviously doubtful, she returned several minutes later. The chef dramatically spilled the glass into a plant vase and handed it to me. "Here is a souvenir."

Stunned, I knew that he knew!

"CCTV", he smiled," we had some thefts so I put in closed circuit TV. "One other thing Hatch, "Stay away from my women."

Under the Table

Maybe I should have been more alert but it had been one of those days at Café America. Long, humiliating, and finally cumulating with a small kitchen fire. In short it had not been good. I came home dragging. Opening the front door of my townhouse I should have been alarmed at finding it unlocked, however I dismissed it with the casual concern that I might have forgotten to lock it.

Too wired to turn in, I tossed a kettle on the old stove to make some coffee. It was one of those old fashion coffee pots that if you are younger, you may not have seen before, but it made great coffee. Halfway through throwing a quick sandwich together I heard it. A loud thud from upstairs.

I grabbed granddaddy's antique .45 from the hall chest as I rushed by. I had inherited the gun and it was unregistered, hadn't been fired in some years but fully loaded with one in the chamber. No telling what the French authorities would do if they knew about its presence.

There was a light at the top of the stairs which shouldn't be on. I slowed my rush to creep stealthily up the staircase.

The neighborhood has been having a rash of robberies and I expected this to be one.

Sweeping the corner, I decocked the old revolver in relief as I saw it was only Anaïs. Yet this was also strange as she seemed to be rummaging through an old dresser?

"Anaïs, you gave me a fright!," I entered laughing.

She jumped with a start, as if caught with her fingers in the cookie jar. "I was hoping to avoid you!"

"Avoid?"

"Hatch, its over. You are a cold bastard and I'm through!

I'm startled and trying to gain a footing. "What?"

We never do anything, never go to any nice places. I come over to your place and we screw. I need more than that! You are a waste."

I'm still not tracking or maybe the train has jumped the tracks. I'd no idea she felt this way, however it was only a matter of time. She had lasted longer than most but eventually they all go. This was a fact of my life.

"You do not value me or show me any respect! We never go anywhere or do anything. You have no time for me except to screw! The only thing that interests you is sex."

"I'm sorry you feel like that," I moved closer trying to calm her to little avail.

"I hate you!!!" Then she tried to spit at me in her rage. "I hate your blow-up doll games."

All of the women had found some reason to leave. Most of them probably justified; however, I knew the real reason. I had faults just like anyone else. "Well, what are you looking for?"

"My things! I'm not leaving anything here for a sex pervert like you to jerk off to!" She tore back into the dresser with new vigor.

So now I had achieved pervert status. Once again if she knew the real truth it was probably justified from her point of view. They all left, for one reason or the other.

"I could stand here and argue all day with your reasons; however, you seem pretty set and I doubt anything I say would make a difference!"

"That's right. I'm right and you are a clod and a pervert!" She glared at me just waiting for me to try something.

"After you gather your stuff. Come on down to the kitchen and we can talk." I left her to her devices, replaced the gun in the hall chest and went down to the kitchen. Aimlessly slamming cabinet doors not even aware of what I was looking for.

The sound of the exterior door slamming was the last I ever heard from Anaïs.

I was despondent and down for some days then with a call from Roxanne I was pulled out of it. I guess if you are reading this journal, I should introduce Roxanne who goes back quite a way. We have been friends with benefits for some years. Not in love but in like. Sometimes when either of us are between relationships or just wanted to catch up we would connect. Her call came as a relief to the depression I had been hiding under.

Roxy rolled over me stretching across to reach the cigarettes. In the process one small breast dragged across my chest to my delight. The match she struck created shadows across the bed that highlighted the hills and darkened the valleys of her athletic shape and the red glow of her carefully trimmed pubic hair.

"I didn't know you smoked?"

She blew out an exaggerated puff of smoke. "Didn't until last week. I was watching a 1940s movie and the heroine lit up afterwards. Looked sexy as hell so I thought I would try it. You like?"

"Sexy no, totally nasty yes."

"Hatch, you are orally fixated. You just like it when a woman puts anything in their mouths." She snubbed the cigarette out. She changed the subject. "Do you still miss Anaïs?"

I had told her the story. "It was fun while it lasted."

"Hatch, your problem is you grew up a romantic. Thinking there was one perfect woman that can fulfill your needs. Might be true for most men however it will never work for you."

I sighed "Maybe you are right."

"I am right!" You are like an elephant at the circus."

"An elephant?"

She reached down and gave my penis a gentle tug. "This thing, an elephant. It's fun to go to the circus, see the elephants, maybe even pet one and if you are really lucky to ride one, however you don't bring it home to live in the backyard!"

"I don't want to live in the yard."

"Exactly. For most women the care and feeding of this thing," and she reached down to give it another affectionate stroke, "on a day-to-day basis is too demanding because of the size. What you need is a harem where they can take turns. No girl is ever going to be able to be able to keep you satiated. Then another smaller giggle, "Unless you can find one with a mouth big enough to go down on that thing. As to the pervert thing she said, don't worry about it. Sex is like dancing and someone has to lead. Most women prefer the man to lead. Besides the reason we are here is because of you seducing me!"