Erotic Recipes for Two

"What do you mean? You called me."

"No, silly. Years ago. You remember the party at Evan's. We were both house guests?

"And we stayed up late after everyone else was in bed watching the old Tom Baker Doctor Who marathon."

"I had on the tee shirt cut to the midriff and denim shorts."

"You were stretched out on the sofa with your head in my lap."

"That's right," she teased. "I was a prim innocent young lady that had never been befouled by a man's hands."

As I remember both of us had been rather surprised by my penis growing in my shorts. At first, she had seemed a little startled as I pretended not to notice it's rising. In a naïve manner she seemed to be curiously exploring the addition to her pillow. I had one hand draped across her bare midriff. As she seemed to be coming more familiar with me, I had edged my hand underneath the tee and could feel the bottom swelling of her breasts. Since she didn't seem to object, I moved higher and begun exploring her nipples with pleasing results as I felt them enlarging and she seemed to be into it.

"No man had ever touched me like that. I had fantasized but this was the first time and in spite of my reluctance I had to experience more with a flesh and blood real man."

Very soon I had raised the tee shirt and had a mouthful of one nipple. As my friend Dave had said one time, "Anything more than a mouthful was a waste and her's were the perfect size. Soon not even that was enough and I had her shorts pulled down and was tonguing her.

She sighed "I don't know if it was the longest orgasm of my life or so many pushed so close together but I was never the same afterwards. So, you see the reason we are what we are is because of your lust."

"What are we?"

She paused. "You were my first and always the best. No matter what other boyfriends or even husbands you are going to own me in a way that no one else can." With a flourish of her hair, she buried her face between my legs. "Hatch, that thing about the blowup doll. Can we try it?"

All meaningful conversation halted.

Over the last few months, now that we had shown our true colors, Andre Geostoph and I have become friends and rivals if that makes any sense? I often spent my evenings with him and now we had this friendly wager going. You might remember Joyeux. She still wanted to be impregnated by a great chef however I had also made her list. I'm not sure whether it was my cooking or my other endowments but I had been slipped into the rotation.

The wager was as to who would be father of her child. Her new husband had rapidly fell by the wayside and after Andre's lawyer had filed papers relieving us of any parental financial responsibilities, we are taking turns alternating months to see which of us could give her a child.

Her neighbors were sometimes disturbed by the early morning and late-night banshee wails. I had seen a column in the local weekly paper reporting the unexplained noise and could only smile.

Tonight, instead of being at the Chef's table in the kitchen six of us were in the dining room after hours trying out some new dishes he was considering adding to his menu and sampling some really fine wines.

As impressed as I am with the Chef's modern immaculate kitchen of gleaming stainless steel, I have to admit I prefer the history and equipment that were my friends in my kitchen. Maybe I just like seeing the memories and experiences of my kitchen. I breaking from my musings I discovered I was being addressed by Paul Meiche, one of Andre's assistants.

"No, I don't think it needs more salt," in answer to his question," if it does the customer can adjust it."

His response, "Many of our chefs refuse to put things like salt on the table, insisting the tasting experience has to be true in the manner it was fixed!"

"Paul, I don't want to scandalize you, however I actually have ketchup on the tables in my dining room."

Andre looked up at this exchange. "Ketchup, I thought better of you Hatch."

"Western food, western ways. Our customers come for the authenticity of American dishes." I grinned in teasing, "You won't find any snails in my kitchen."

As one of the staff cleared the present dishes on the table, Absinthe came in with the next course. Surprising me with a smile then returned to the kitchen. Normally she is very businesslike and doesn't give me the time of day.

The new dish was a Rosemary Roasted Lamb. It smelled and looked delicious.

The Chef continued our exploration. "This we are planning on debuting next month at the Naples location; however, I want to get your feelings."

I was cutting into the dish when I jumped. Who wouldn't when you feel a hand run up your leg; however I tried not to make a scene. Things got even more interesting as I felt my zipper being undone, but now I had it figured out. This must be one of the Chef's games or maybe a surprise. He did have a nasty sense of humor. So, as I felt the hand reaching in to guide my penis out, I set up straighter and tried to pay attention to what was transpiring on top of the table rather than under it. Small cupping gentle strokes were encouraging my participation under the table.

I didn't see the humor in this but I sure as hell was not going to give him the satisfaction at seeing any reaction to his new parlor game.

The situation under the table grew in urgency as I felt lips engulf the head of my cock and two hands were now stroking the increased length. I felt my balls tighten up in preparation for what I knew was to come. I sat back in amusement as I also knew the impossibility of this feat. I expected to hear gagging sounds at any moment as few ever even got this far.

The pumping action was continuing even more vigorously and I could feel myself being drawn even deeper into those lips. Whoever this was, she was good, but I expected her to give up.

I tried to continue nonchalantly as if nothing was happening although occasionally, I heard knocks of her head on the bottom of the table. No one else seemed to notice as the Chef continued his story.

Speaking of continuing I was tight and stretched out to full length now and then it happened. The first completed blow job since I became an adult. Long spasms of cum shot into the stranger's mouth, which was still glued on. How I avoided shaking the table is still a mystery. Then I was worried about choking or drowning the poor girl in cum.

I subsided still not quite believing what had happened, and felt gentle efforts to clean up and repack me into the zipper. I sat stunned at the Chef's gift then with a start realized I need to know who this girl was. I made a production out of dropping my fork and bent under the table. No one was there.

Several other dishes eventually made their way onto the table; however, I was too distracted to even be aware of what I was eating. Still dumbfounded by the first time in my adult life though many of the brave had tried.

Eventually the tasting broke up as the party migrated to the kitchen, where the action had moved.

Finally, I was able to catch Andre alone to thank him for the gift however he seemed unaware and seemed to believe I am thanking him for the invitation to the tasting. Life is always a mystery.

I was at the exit running through permutations and combinations attempting to figure out what had occurred while putting on my coat before going out into the snow when Absinthe caught up to me.

"I hope you enjoyed the dinner?"

One look at her cleared the mystery. "The food was great. Not what we would serve at Café America however the table service was a lot better. With one finger I pointed to a spot of white on her forehead. "You missed a spot."

She blushed beet red, "Don't tell Papa!"

"Why?"

"We have a deal. If I remain a virgin until 21 he gives me a new car."

"and are you?"

She bristled. "You have no right to ask, but yes. I keep my word."

"And what happened tonight?"

"A girl has her curiosities. I saw your video!"

"What video?"

"The one of you, with the Jamaican girl." She blushed again. "When Papa gave you the martini glass for a souvenir, I was curious."

"You are a girl of a lot of curiosities. I hope for the sacrifices you are making it's a good car."

She smiled. "An Astin Martin DB9."

"Not bad at all."

"Two months and", she stopped to calculate," seventeen days. Bright yellow."

"He felt sexual distractions might affect my education, so he bribed me. Being an American you may not be aware the legal age of consent in France is fifteen. I've worked very hard for that car."

I hesitated than reached down to tilt her face to mine and planted a kiss which was at first resisted than accepted. I also wiped of the spot of cum.

She opened her eyes and stared. "You wouldn't dare."

My response, "You dared." I walked away in the snow knowing the door was still open and without looking knew she was in the door watching me leave.

Firsts

Time passed as it is prone to do almost unnoticed. With the press of responsibilities and long hours I was scarcely aware of this passing. I did have a vague impression that Absinthe's birthday must have passed successfully as I saw her several weeks ago tooling around in a yellow DB9.

The Chef had won our paternity wager over Joyeux and I graciously gave him a bottle of very expensive cognac which had also given us an excuse for a big party. Several days later I was still recovering from the aftereffects of this party. I might be getting old.

I was flipping the last of the steaks to ensure proper grill marks before tossing them into the oven to finish and rummaging in the cold box for the prepped chicken when Franks grabbed my attention. "Hatch, you have a visitor."

"Tell them to come back later. I'm busy," as I noticed two more tickets for additional tables being dropped on us.

"I think you want to see her. A real knockout."

"Still too busy. Bring her back here. I can't leave the line.

I moved the steaks in their grilling pans to the ovens and was shaping up the next tickets when I saw a white envelope pressed in front of me.

"Monsieur Beauchamp?"

I looked up and confirmed that she was a knockout and I had no idea who she was. In this age that glorifies women's short hair styles she had lustrous red hair in ringlets down to her waist. I had to look up at her and realized that maybe without the heels she might be my height and high cheekbones modeling an elfin face. She didn't meet my eyes merely thrust the envelope at me. She turned using a models runway strut to leave the kitchen. I was sure every male eye and some female eyes were watching her exit.

The envelope was white with no address and didn't look like a court summons so I set it aside to open later and returned to the melee.

Evidently Stan could stand it no longer. "Hatch, are you going to open it?"

"My fingers are greasy. Why don't you open it for me?"

I swear I have never seen him move so fast. He rapidly pulled the message out. "Looks like a silver engraved invitation." He whistled. "Pretty swank."

I came over to read over his shoulder. Just an address with today's date and a time. 9:00 PM.

"That's a pretty expensive district even for Paris!"

He was right. In a city where a small efficiency apartment can cost over a million U.S. this was an area famous for its old large masons.

"Are you going?" and in the next breath "Do you think she will be there?"

I had been about to toss the invitation however his question halted me. "Hmmm, it might be worthwhile if it was a chance to learn her name." I admit to being a little intrigued. These sorts of things do not happen every day.

Swank indeed. I had been expecting it to be one of the old large homes, subdivided into cold water flats. There were several very expensive cars parked in a circular drive and the butler was looking down his nose at my invitation.

"Sir, there is no party at this house. It must be the girls at the pool house."

This caught my attention. The word "girls". Things were beginning looking up.

"Take the path," he directed me to a cobblestone path lighted by small dim lanterns, "and it will take you around back."

After some twists and turns, I walked around the various wings of the mansion. I rounded a corner to be washed in an ultramarine glow. Lights from the pool cast a bluish glow on the Grecian columns and rear of the house. I saw three figures sitting at one table and directed my feet over. I immediately recognized one. Long red hair in ringlets draped over the back of her chair. It was the now familiar red hair from earlier today and knew I had found the right place.

"Hello." All turned to face me and I was shocked to recognize Absinthe.

I wondered if I was early, as they were in robes and I saw no other guests. "Am I unfashionably early?" I gave a uneasy smile.

Absinthe frowned, so a little confused I continued, "If I'm too early I can come back later after you are dressed?"

"Actually, what we have on is perfect for the night's festivities."

"I didn't bring a swim suit?"

"Neither did we."

Still confused, "Should I come back later?"

"No, this is perfect timing. We were just discussing some of the rules for tonight."

"We have rules?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. Let me introduce my friends." She gestured to the mysterious redhead. "This is Roslyn and this," she indicated a much paler brunette, is Agnès."

Both nodded to me. "And this is Monsieur Beauchamp whom I've told you about."

I smiled "Call me Hatch."

Roslyn smiled now. "Considering the informality of the evening."

"Do I get a robe also?"

Absinthe interceded. "I guess we should start with an explanation. You remember my bargain with Father?"

"Did you get the Astin?"

"Parked around back." She shrugged, "If you are good, I might let you drive it. Anyway, I'm now twenty-one and most girls in France have started their romantic experiences much earlier. Therefore, I'm a beginner at this." She gestured vaguely. "My friends here are many years ahead of me and are guiding me. They are assuring me first affairs are generally bad and they are helping me by screening my lovers."

"What do you mean... screening?"

She frowned seeking an explanation while the others smiled knowingly. "I've completed my father's deal have had five suitors and all have failed this screening. I remain", she shyly dropped her eyes, "a virgin."

"And I am a suitor?"

"Hatch, you are my best hope for breaking this impasse. I remember the video of you and that colored girl at the restaurant. If anyone can get pass my friends, I have faith that you can." Her eyes had one of her rare flashes of brilliance and rebellion I had occasionally noticed.

"And if I answer their questions to their satisfaction than I get to do," I paused," the honors."

"mmm...it's a little more than answering questions." She hesitated. "You must make each climax without wasting yourself in them," she finished in a quieter voice and blushed. "Then you get the honor."

I glanced over at Roslyn and Agnès. "Absinthe, you have some firsthand knowledge as to my size. Do you really think a virgin could handle me?"

"If you do me the favor of passing my friends screening, I will do my best to give you a good time." She pointed over to her friends. "Girls."

They rose and dropped their robes.

I was a little transfixed. Roslyn the tall thin model with her hair down to her ass and Agnès with womanly curves struck inviting poses. This set me back and also caused a certain member of mine to become very interested. "Both at once, or one at a time?"

Roslyn asked, "So you think you can handle us both? I have to warn you, the earlier five never made it past me."

Absinthe, "That's why I need you Hatch."

I gave Absinthe a resigned look. "I think one at a time. Since I'm a chef we will serve each of you up like a fine dinner. Roslyn is the appetizer, Agnès will be the entre and, "I smiled at my humor," Absinthe will be the intoxicating after dinner drink.

Roslyn arched her eyebrows, "No time to start like the present. Where do you want me?"

"You both have me at a disadvantage. Care to undress me?" As my clothes started dropping, I thought I caught a look of concern from Roslyn, evidently Absinthe had not told them everything. Minutes later I was as naked as both of them. "Do we retire to a bedroom?"

"No, one of the rules to keep it honest we all get to watch."

"Then how about that chaise lounge?" I pointed. "Good leverage." I grabbed Roslyn's hand and drew her to it. "I'm on bottom." I sat down planting a foot on either side.

Absinthe pushed in hurriedly. "I didn't get a chance to even play with the other suitors. Roslyn didn't even leave any crumbs." With that, she dropped to her knees brushed the underside of my cock with her tongue and took my cock in her mouth, which rapidly grew to larger proportions and I saw a renewed look of concern on Roslyn as I expanded.

Rapidly as I grew, I think they were becoming impressed with Absinthe's expertise. Agnès became excited, "You go girl!"

Once I was fully extended and ready to play Absinthe pulled off. "No more until you've earned it!"

I figured Absinthe may have told her friends about her talents but doubted they had ever seen her in action. They looked impressed. I know I was.

Roslyn," I'm suppose to ride that huge thing?"

I grinned, "If I'm to pass the screening."

"Well, go easy on me." She reached down to draw the head of my penis into her labia as she squatted down with both of her legs straddling the lounge.

Slowly she lowered herself deeper and deeper as she slowly took it as far as she felt she could which left a little of my length still in reserve. She bit her upper lip in concern. I patiently played with her small breasts as I waited. Finally positioned she said, "Do your worst."

"Actually, we are doing it."

"Huh?"

"Get ready for the biggest orgasm you have ever had." She looked puzzled. "I'm not going to do anything, and you are not. We are going to just sit here and talk with me filling you up. Maybe one of us does a little tickle once in a while but for the most part we are just talking.

"What?"

"A long time ago, I had a lover in a very strange situation. We both lived with roommates and due to circumstance could not make much noise. I've never had any girl as quiet as her. I only know of one time she climaxed and that was when we were doing much as we are now. Most of the time she preferred being on bottom however this time was an exception. Halfway through we rested discussing her upcoming trip, working out some details while we remained ...connected. We barely got started again when she gave a groan of such musical intensity that to this day and most likely on my dying day it will still bounce around my head. Later in reading I discovered this was one of the techniques of Tantric sex."

Roslyn looked doubtful. Can you keep it up that long?"

"With a little encouragement and a little squeeze here and there shouldn't be a problem."

"Well, what do you want to talk about," she paused," to pass the time?"

"Well since we are here to initiate Absinthe, why not talk about some of our earlier better sexual encounters. You go first."

Roslyn frowned, "My first time was a unmitigated disaster."

"That's why I said, better encounters. We don't want to scare Absinthe and first ones are rarely good."

Absinthe broke in. "Let's. We can stay entertained" and she frowned doubtfully, "...while you do whatever it is you are doing."

Roslyn screwed up her mouth in a cute manner while she paused and thought. I took the advantage to stiffen a little and her eyes got bigger but she continued. "One of my best times was after I graduated from college. It was harvest time at my grandfather's vineyard and I went to Tuscany to assist with picking the grapes.