Food for Thought

"Well, she sounds great. I can't wait to meet her." Beth Cooper absentmindedly stirred the soup on the stove while holding the phone to her ear, genuinely happy for her friend.

"Don't get me wrong here," Mark protested. "Emily's not my girlfriend."

"Oh, of course not," Beth teased, drawing out each word in mock innocence. "You regularly spend whole conversations describing every detail of all of your friends to me."

"Hey, I'm not saying that should the opportunity present itself, that I wouldn't let her sit on my face all day long. I'm just saying that she's not my girlfriend. Just a friend. Who is really, really hot."

Beth laughed again, and good-naturedly called Mark a whore. She and Mark had been friends for a long time, and were there for each other when their last relationships collapsed within weeks of each other. It was an easy going friendship - their mutual respect and affection for each other was evident, and they kept things light hearted. Passionate foodies and music lovers, they had a lot in common, and while most of their conversations were peppered with banter and outrageous innuendo, there was no uncomfortable sexual tension that got in the way of their good times.

"Okay, okay! I still want to meet your not-girlfriend. She sounds awesome. Until then, I have a proposition for you. Tom wants me to review Matador, that new tapas bar. I told him I wasn't doing tapas alone, so I need you to come with me." In addition to her job as a History teacher, Beth sometimes wrote for Urban Playground, an arts and lifestyle website mostly targeted to Sydney's hipsters, run by her brother Tom.

On the other end of the phone, she could hear Mark hesitate and start pacing. "I can't. I'm completely tapped out. I can't even afford petrol until payday, much less overpriced tapas at some wanky bar. Fucking legal fees - this goddamned breakup has sent me broke." Mark's split with his fiancée Jess was messy, and nearly 12 months later, they were still no closer to agreeing what to do with their house, even with the help of lawyers that neither could really afford. Conversely, Beth's divorce from her husband Dave had been relatively straight forward, at least practically. She sometimes still grieved for what was once a great relationship, but the simplicity and amicability of the divorce meant that she was able to move on healthily. Mark was still tied to his house, making this difficult.

"Dude, don't make me beg. Tapas isn't a solo sport. Besides, company credit card. Come on. We both need a fun night out." Too late. Beth was begging. She really didn't want to go alone.

"Hmmmm... I do like to hear a woman beg. Go on, sweetheart." The exaggerated lecherous smile on his lips was audible through the phone.

"Oh shut up, man-whore. Matador's not too far from your office, anyway. Train it in to work on Friday, and I'll pick you up at 6."

The rest of the week flew by in a blur. After her divorce, Beth had embraced her new independence by not only throwing herself into her work, but also trying her hand at cooking classes, Japanese lessons, and joining the gym. She figured that she was going to have an interesting and well-rounded life to show for her singledom, while keeping busy during the evenings. The first three distractions were easy: she loved teaching, she loved food, and she loved language. She was far less enthusiastic about the gym, but did enjoy the more toned phsyique that came along with the drudgery of it all. On Thursday evening, while chopping chilies in her Thai cooking class, her friend Anna was probing her about her weekend.

"It's not a date! I'm having dinner - a work dinner mind you - with Mark. I might as well be going out with Tom!" Beth insisted.

"Uh-huh. Work. On a Friday night. In a dark bar. With a single, handsome man with whom you never seem to have an appropriate or chaste conversation." Anna was nodding, smiling even, but her eyes betrayed her disapproval. Although she had never met Mark, she had been with Beth when Mark had called or texted, and felt it inappropriate that Beth would be so cavalier with a man who knew her ex-husband first, and who still maintained a friendship with him. Beth didn't understand while Anna would care about this when Beth, Dave and Mark didn't, but she did appreciate her friend's concern for her welfare. It had been a tough year.

" Who said he was handsome?" Beth avoided Anna's eyes by concentrating on the curry simmering before her. Mark wasn't conventionally handsome, but he had kind green eyes and a face that conveyed every emotion in the most interesting way. "Besides, he's ... Mark. Like I said, it might as well be Tom."

"And like I said, uh-huh. Date or not, I'm jealous. I really want to try that place. Can't wait to read your reviews. You're the nicest critic around, and everything you write makes me hungry."

As their conversation turned back to cooking, Beth couldn't help but linger on Anna's words. She knew that she and Mark would make a great couple, but she truly valued the friendship and didn't feel compelled to bring romance into the equation. Laughing at Anna, who was being bested by a bunch of coriander and poor knife skills, Beth returned to the aromas and the simple, cathartic act of cooking. It didn't matter what was going on around her, food was always able to drag her back into the present, and make the world make sense again.

Beth parked her black hatchback in the carpark at Mark's office. It was 5.45 and she was early, but the lot was nearly empty. Not surprising for a Friday night; nobody wanted to hang around any longer than necessary. She messed around on her phone for a few minutes, jumping when it began to ring.

"Hey, stalker. I see your car downstairs. I've just wrapped up, I'll be downstairs in a minute. You know, I always pick my dates up at the door. You suck at being chivalrous."

There was that word again. Date. Beth ignored it, rationalising that Mark had no idea of last night's conversation with Anna, or the disconcerting effect it had on her.

"Get your ass down here now, before I change my mind and drive off without you." Beth hung up the phone before he could respond.

Moments later, Mark was in the car, and they were chatting about the day. As always, it was easy and light hearted. The friends smiled and laughed, and nudged each other at every terrible pun and double entendre. When they parked a block or two from the restaurant, and got out of the car, Mark grinned at Beth. "Glad we're here. I'm starving. Can't wait to tap-ass tonight."

Beth scoffed. "It'll take a lot more than a free meal to tap-ass with me, buddy."

"Damn. Because from where I'm standing, that ass is looking mighty tappable. Did you wear that to work? No wonder you're a good teacher. If I were a 14 year old boy, I'd be paying attention in your class."

Beth rolled her eyes. "That was terrible, Anderson. Just terrible. You really need to up your game. What kind of man-whore has moves that bad?"

Mark laughed. He really enjoyed Beth's company, and while he sometimes wished for more, he was glad to have a friend as warm and funny as she was. And she was nice to look at. Tall and brunette. She carried a few extra pounds, but she wore them well. She also had the darkest eyes set against clear olive skin. At the moment, in her dark jeans, red blouse and heeled boots, she looked feisty and utterly sexy. He liked flirting with her. It was fun, and with no expectations, he was free to be ridiculous and silly. Everything about her was great. He sighed inwardly.

They were ushered into the dark bar by a curvy, blonde waitress who filled out her uniform very nicely indeed. Beth couldn't be sure, but she wondered if maybe Amy (as she introduced herself) was flirting with her a little. Looking at her a little too intently, sneaking a look at the generous curve of her breast when Beth was looking at the menu. The idea tantalised Beth. Although she preferred men, she was also attracted to women, and remembered the few encounters she'd experienced with girls in high school, that night with Jen not too long after her divorce...

"Hello, Beth? Are you still there?" Beth snapped out of her daydream to find Mark staring at her. "Or are you fantasising about the fact that Amy just popped the biggest lady-boner for you?"

Beth smiled triumphantly. "Ha! I thought she did, too." Her smile remained, but Mark detected a new wistfulness in her voice. "I was wondering if I was making it up. It's been too long since someone looked at me like that."

Mark shifted in his seat. The image of Beth and Amy sprawled on the table, right there in the restaurant, invaded his head and made his pants a little less comfortable than they were moments before. "Well, that's just bullshit. You're a knockout." Beth rolled her eyes again and began to protest. "No, seriously. The eyes, the curves, the boobs. They're all there. Wrapping up the best personality I've come across. Sassy, kind, and wicked smart." Mark reached for Beth's hand, thought better of it, and started playing with his fingers instead. Beth just looked at him. He couldn't read her expression. She wasn't about to jump the table into his arms, but it wasn't anger or mockery either. Disbelief? Curiosity, perhaps?

Fortunately for the two friends, who were both slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable with Mark's outburst, the food and wine arrived. As they savoured every delicious morsel, paired perfectly with a peppery shiraz recommended by the alluring Amy, they melted back into their usual banter, discussing the Marvel universe as though it were a real political landscape. Yet, Beth couldn't help but wonder about Mark's assertion that she was attractive. Was he comforting her, trying to make her feel better? Or did he mean something by it?

Suddenly, Mark stood up and held his wine glass up above his head, with Beth giggling as he did.

"A toast! To your excellent part time job that allows us to eat like kings while we live like paupers!"

Beth raised her glass in mock seriousness. "Hear, hear!"

"And to the lawyers, without whom I wouldn't need to rely on free meals from Tom. And because of whom we have finally settled and sold the house."

Beth jumped up and hugged Mark. They jumped up and down for a few seconds, before realising where they were, and sat back down, giggling.

"It's such a relief, you know? We won't get much money after we pay back the loan, if anything, but do you know how much it sucks to pay mortgage on a house you don't even fucking live in? It's exhausting. And now I can move on. I don't know how I'm feeling. I'm the tiniest bit sad because it's final, but mostly, I'm just relieved. "

Beth nodded sagely. Even though her divorce was straightforward, it wasn't easy. She knew exactly how he was feeling. She wasn't surprised when his mood had quickly shifted from from joyous to pensive, and understood when his pendulous emotions suddenly became quite dark.

"Anyway, fuck them all. Fuck houses, and Jess, and Dave. Moving forward from now on, yeah? Beth and Mark, against the world."

Beth reached over and patted his hand without saying a word. She understood his anger, but didn't feel angry herself. Not any more. So she sat, and just let him feel, let him process his own thoughts. After a few minutes of silence, Mark looked up at Beth. "Beth, why did you invite me here?"

She understood that this was no time for teasing. She placed her hand over his once again. "I invited you because I enjoy your company, for starters. Because I wanted to be accompanied to this place, and I wanted someone who appreciates food and wine to critique the dishes alongside me. Anna's not really the foodie type, I'm not at a one-on-one dinner status with any of my other foodie friends, and I didn't want to go in a group on Tom's dime. Because we both needed a treat, and neither of us can afford this right now." She looked at him sincerely. "Because I wanted to."

He smiled, and his free hand, warm and a little shaky, rested over hers. He was relieved when she didn't move it away. "I'm glad you did. Thanks for a great night out."

As Amy returned with the bill, she saw the pair with their hands entwined and gave Mark a knowing grin. When she spoke with Beth, her eyes lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and she subtly bit her lower lip. Mark shifted again, entranced by the two beautiful women. The strong dark brunette, and the short, vivacious blonde. His cock twitched at the idea of the sexual tension being mutual. After settling the bill and thanking Amy profusely, the pair set off back to the car. Talking animatedly about the tender meat, perfect artichokes, and Amy's sommelier talents, Beth casually draped her arms around Mark's shoulders, as she had done a thousand times before. They drove the short distance to Mark's house in a comfortable silence. When they arrived, Beth yawned.

"Got coffee? I'm exhausted. Long day."

Mark nodded. He always had coffee, and he considered himself a connoisseur. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her out of the car, into his home.

"I suppose I can spare you a cup. But you know," His cock twitched again. Dammit. This was dangerous, "if you went back to Matador, I'd bet that Amy would be delighted to make coffee for you after her shift." Beth blushed and Mark chuckled. "I saw you wink at her when we paid the bill, you tart."

"Well, she was smoking hot. You're just jealous because she didn't look at your tits the way she looked at mine." Beth giggled and groped his chest. He didn't have washboard abs, but there weren't any man-boobs to speak of either. Almost imperceptibly, Mark's whole body stiffened. Thoughts of Beth, of Amy, of Beth with Amy, of his whole twisted friendship with the beautiful, witty woman in front of him danced around in his mind. He didn't want to mess things up, but he had to had to take a chance, and now seemed like the best time. It had been a great evening, and he'd never felt more sure of anything as his affection for Beth.

"No, I'm just jealous that you let her look at your tits, when I always have to be sneaky about it."

Beth slapped him playfully and squeezed her arms together, giving her a pronounced, delicious cleavage. Caught up in their usual habit of banter, she winked at him, too. "Go ahead and look, sweetie. Hell, they're so magnificent that I sometimes look down and forget what I was doing."

Mark took a step forward, grabbing her hand again. His breathing was shallowed, and he looked deep into her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out and ran his thumb over her cheek. "All of you is magnificent."

Beth's breath caught in her throat. She looked him over, searching for something. She wasn't sure what. A sign he was joking, a sarcastic grin. To her surprise, she was relieved to find that he was completely serious. Beth closed the gap between the two. Their faces mere centimetres apart, one of his large hands in hers, the other stroking her soft cheek, Mark dipped his head and placed his mouth over hers. Slowly, unsurely, he placed small, soft kisses on her bottom lip, trying to ignore the taut pulling of his jeans. This wasn't the time for that. Not yet. When Beth's tongue peeped from between her luscious lips on to his, meeting his kisses, Mark's brain went into overdrive. He struggled to overcome the temptation to take her right there on the kitchen bench, to grope every inch of her now trembling body, and lay kisses on her most intimate areas, staking claim to her once and for and all. Rather, he begrudgingly pulled away, cupping her face in his hands. "Beth, I mean it. All of you is magnificent. Inside and outside. Everything. And I have to tell you, if you kiss me again like that, I can't guarantee that I will ever stop."

Now it was Beth's turn to run her hand down his face, lightly brushing the back of her fingers down his neck, then walking her fingertips down his pectoral muscles. She gently fisted his shirt at his stomach and pulled him back into her arms. They were both trembling now, nervous, but pleased with their relationship's new development. Very softly, she whispered "Well, I suppose we'll just have to see about that," and kissed him again, harder, and with more certainty. Beth's tongue entwined with Mark's, and they both moaned, allowing their hands to roam up each other's backs and sides. Unable to help himself, Mark cupped Beth's ass, the ass he'd been coveting all evening in it's seductive denim covering. Firm, yet generous. Beth moaned into Mark's mouth again, and ground her hips into his. Pulling away, but not removing his hands from her backside, Beth scolded Mark, "tsk, tsk, you wicked boy. I guess you'll have to sit in the naughty chair."

Reluctantly peeling herself from Mark's embrace, Beth pulled out a kitchen chair and guided Mark back on to it. She stood in front of him, breathing heavily, looking him up and down seductively. His whole body was tense, and his face was dark. She couldn't help but notice the bulge straining across his zip fly. Mark's eyes roamed all over her body, across her round, full chest, down her strong thighs, her shapely arms, and into the dark pools that stared back at him so hungrily. Slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him, but barely making contact with her aching core. Holding the back of the chair to support her, Beth returned her mouth to his, and they resumed their passionate kiss that beheld every emotion coursing through both of them. It was a needy, hungry kiss, and Beth quickly gave up on using the chair to support her. Instead, she straddled Mark completely, running her hands through his hair, over his chest and face, and across his muscular back. Barely registering her actions, Beth rhythmically ground herself into Mark's lap, and he thrust forward to meet every movement, the friction a most welcome sensation to his bulging, pulsing cock.

Breaking apart for air, Mark growled sensually when he looked at the woman sitting on his lap. Beth's hair was wild from him pushing his hands into it, her face and cleavage flushed from the raw sexuality of it all. She didn't wear much makeup, but her lips were swollen and red from the assault from his own full lips, and her blouse was untucked and in disarray. She was sex personified. He pulled her back into him. As they kissed, moaning into each other, Mark brought his hand up slowly across the fantastic ass that he was using to push her closer into him, across her ample, womanly hips, and towards her crotch. He brushed across her denim-clad pussy, eliciting a gasp of anticipation from Beth, but just as suddenly as the hand appeared, it had gone, heading towards the large breasts whose nipples were so deliciously outlined through the satin blouse. Mark gently caressed each mound, running his thumbs over her eager nipples, enjoying the sensation of the satin in his hand and the obvious arousal of his very willing partner.

"Mmm, yes, just like that." Beth had never been accused of being shy, and Mark was delighted to find that she was a vocal lover as well. Massaging her breasts a little while longer, Mark suckled gently at her neck and nibbled on her ear, both of which were rewarded by Beth grinding harder into his erection. Deftly, Mark unbuttoned Beth's shirt, taking his time to drag the cool material across her arms, the erotic sensation driving Beth crazy and making her shiver. She was surprised that her nipples were able to pull even tighter across the black and red satin bra that was now exposed.

"Jesus, Beth, you are fucking amazing." Mark gently bit Beth's right nipple through the bra, while pinching the left just hard enough to send a jolt directly to her engorged clit. She gave him a smug look. "You're not so bad yourself."

With his mouth back on her, Mark reached around Beth's smooth back and tried to unclasp the sexy bra. Beth laughed when it became obvious he wasn't going to succeed at that angle. "Here, let me help you with that." She removed herself from him him, giving him one hard thrust on her way up. As soon as she stood upright, Beth realised just how wet she was. She turned around, shaking her ass at him cheekily while she reached up and expertly separated the hooks. Slowly, but still grinning, Beth faced him again, the straps off her shoulders, her arms crossed over her chest. She teased him for a while, pretending to lift one arm and free the treasures hidden below, shaking her cleavage just out of arms reach at the poor man who was trying desperately to keep his cool. Eventually, Mark couldn't stand it any longer. He lunged up, grabbing Beth by the waist, and removed the bra with his teeth, flinging it across the room. Mark bit and suckled each nipple greedily, running his hands all over Beth's body, but refusing to come into contact with the very part of her that needed his touch the most. Beth's hands ran freely, over his ass, across his tight nipples, up his hot and heaving neck, and down to the cock that threatened to burst through his jeans. She fumbled with the button, and carefully lowered the zipper. As the bulge broke free, Beth couldn't help but laugh.