Three Ways

"Please. Have a seat."

His hand grasped the top of the mission-style chair and pulled it away from the table, and he nodded with a smile. She returned it, eyes fixed firmly on the ground -- or any space that wasn't his own gaze, actually -- and gracefully lowered herself to the seat.

"It'll be just a little while longer," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "Good things always take time."

As he disappeared into the kitchen, she watched him go, unable to wipe the silly schoolgirl grin off her face. Ann had met Alex after eating at his restaurant, one of the best-reviewed in town. She was immediately drawn to the way he treated cooking as an art, with an eye toward flair, toward creativity, toward making a statement with his food rather than just preparing something to cram into one's mouth.

Alex was known in particular for one dish: his pork three ways. Brined pork chops, fennel sausage, and maple-candied bacon. It was a sympathy of indulgence on the plate, an aggressive display of meat that hit ones nostrils like a javelin to the chest, resulting in an almost lustful salivation. The effect of putting a bite of any of the three options in one's mouth was a sort of orgasm on the tongue, one that lasted in real time for second but in the mind for long stretches of minutes, hours, eons -- you just wanted it to keep on and on, forever trapped in your mouth. All three pork techniques together? Ann was hooked. She had to meet the man who could create this kind of culinary magic.

Soon, Anne found that just being in Alex's presence had a sexual effect on her akin to a waft of his delicious food hitting the nostrils. It was immediate and overwhelming, something she noticed even on their first date together, and beneath her dress, her pussy dripped with wetness the same way her mouth watered for his cuisine.

"Sex and food are the same," he once told her. "You do not eat just one dish, or one style, or one ingredient. You do not eat for mere practical sustenance, as if it was a chore to be over and done with. You do not cram food in your mouth, forgetting to stop and appreciate what it is you're consuming.

"No," he continued. "Food is meant to be savored. Every stab of the fork should be appreciated. You close your eyes, you raise the bite to your lips. You savor it. You breathe it in. You let the flavors dance around on your tongue for seconds that -- if the bite is as it should be -- seem to stretch forever. You eat because it is a visceral experience, a pleasure felt by your body in a very natural, primal way, and you want to feel it in new and exciting ways each time. Yes, you have old favorites in the recipe book that you return to time and time again -- but each time you have them, it should be as if you're having them for the first time.

"It is the same with sex," he said. "It is to be varied. It is to be savored. It is something you close your eyes and let wash over you as though you are feeding your body with sensations. There are so many different ways to make love, an entire menu of options, and it is our duty as sexual human beings, I think, to give each dish its due, so to speak."

"Each dish?" Anne asked. She had always been a little reserved when it came to sex; she knew what she liked, she knew what fantasies danced around her head in quieter moments, but then there were things she'd heard about that she could simply never imagine herself enjoying. "I don't know ..."

"You never know how you will like a dish until you try it," said Alex. "You hear the term 'sushi' and think 'raw fish' -- you may even think it sounds unappetizing -- but until you try it, prepared by a master, the crude description belies the pleasure your taste buds receive. All foods are meant to be enjoyed, not repulsive, and the delights of the libido are the same way. Everyone has their own tastes, certainly ... but everything is enjoyed by someone, and I enjoy learning why, don't you?"

Anne had winnowed her eyes and smiled upon this remark, sizing up the man across from her. His sexual confidence baffled her, intrigued her, made her want to know more. She wasn't sure if she agreed or not with what he was saying ... but she found herself unable to pull away, the back of her mind racing with a million lurid thoughts.

"You sure have a way with words," she laughed. "So eloquent!"

"What can I say?" Alex said with a lopsided grin, leaning back casually in the booth where the two sat and ate on their date. "You spend a lot of time in the kitchen, a lot of stuff pops into your head. I've practically written an entire book like this in my own imagination."

"I'd read it!" chirped Anne.

"I hope you'll do more than read it," said Alex. "It's even better to live it."

And now, that's what Anne was doing. Having seen Alex for several weeks, things were going well. They'd even gone to bed, an exhilarating experience for Anne. But still, she was holding back. She hadn't totally released herself to him sexually. When she looked into Alex's eyes, she could percieve the kind of creatively--fired lust with which he saw her, but she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Or not to this point anyway. But every time Alex touched her and left her awash with the kind of deep-in-the-pit excitement that only he seemed able to supply -- the kind that made her lips curl into a puckish grin and her head dizzy and unfocused, intoxicated by passion -- she knew it was only a matter of time.

Tonight, however, Alex was treating Anne to his other forte -- cooking. A special meal -- his three-way pork -- prepared to mark the one-month mark of the two seeing each other. The results were predictably transcendent. The first morsel Anne put in her mouth made her furrow her brow and coo in happiness. Alex had a gift, to be sure, and for right now, Anne was the sole recipient. Across the table, Alex smiled as he watched her indulge in his creation, studying her reactions, from the blatant to the subtle. He wanted to know exactly what made this woman tick.

"I have a very ... promising weekend planned," he finally told her when she had finished the dish.

"Promising?" she responded.

"Yes," he said. "I want to get to know you and your body completely."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked. His eyes pleaded with hers. Unexpectedly, Anne felt her fears melt away. All she knew in the moment was that yes, she wanted to trust him, and to please him.

"Yes." She hadn't even planned to say it. The word just leapt from her mouth.

"Good," he said, rubbing his scruffy chin thoughtfully. "You trust me as a chef, right?"

"Absolutely." That goes without asking, she thought.

"Then allow me to set this up as a sort of carnal feast," he said. "Think of this weekend as one long meal of sexual indulgence, exploring different cuisines and different dishes each time."

"Different dishes?" she asked. "What, are we going to eat while having sex?"

Alex laughed. "Would you be opposed to that?"

"I don't know," Anne said. "Now I'm curious ..."

"Good: Curiosity is important," said Alex, "but that's not what I was talking about. I was speaking metaphorically."

"Ah," said Anne. "Hey, you're into some out-there stuff. Can't blame my mind for going there!"

"No, I certainly can't," said Alex. "However ... I want to make my specialty out of you. Out of us. Together."

Anne raised an eyebrow. "Okay ..."

"Think of it as 'Anne Three-Ways'."

"I've got to warn you," she said with a nervous chuckle, "I'm not going in that oven without a fight."

Alex threw back his head and laughed heartily. "I wouldn't expect anything less," he said, "but you know that's not what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she said, still eyeing her beau carefully. "So ... what do you mean?"

"You trust me?"

"As I said, yes."

Alex stood up and grasped Anne's plate to take into the kitchen. "Then you'll see."

Anne watched Alex walk away with the dishes. What had she gotten herself into?

A realization hit her. Old Anne would have worried about it. New Anne? An Anne with an Alex-shaped indentation on her psyche?

She was eager to find out.

* * *

FRIDAY:

"Come out, come out wherever you are."

Anne reclined on the couch and waited for a reply. Covering her eyes was a sleeping mask. She couldn't see, of course, but usually the point is to keep one from making an attempt to see, right? Strap the blindfold on so it can't be pulled off, use handcuffs, tie you to the bed, something? Instead, the mask just sat lightly on the top of Anne's nose with a flimsy string around the back of her head, her arms and hands free to move as they pleased.

"Aren't you going to make it so I can't take the mask off?" Anne had asked Alex.

He shook his head and shot her a knowing smile, his eyes penetrating deeply. "I trust you."

Anne knew what that meant. She knew that he expected her to WANT not to see, to value the surprise that was to come rather than try to circumvent it, like a child who learns it's better to not know what she's getting on Christmas morning rather than sneaking a peek in the closet.

Still ... Alex WAS taking a while, and she was getting a bit restless, a bit curious. And so she asked for him to come out of hiding, and was greeted with silence, save for a distant rustle in another room of the house.

Then came footsteps, creaking their way down the hall. The gentle whine of the door's hinges as someone entered the room. Instead of heavy thuds against the floor, the volume of the rhythmic gait was muted; clearly, Alex -- or whoever it was -- wasn't wearing shoes.

"Tonight," he said in hushed, deep tones, his voice piercing the silent atmosphere, "is the first dish: Oral."

"Oral, huh?" she responded, a little snark in her speech. "What, you want a blowjob? All you had to do was ask."

Anne couldn't see it, but Alex was shaking his head. "Sex is as much about the mouth as it is the genitals," he continued, unphased by his lover's clear skepticism. Each of our bodies has its own tastes, its own scents. You know the aroma that catches your nose when a plate of food is set in front of you? That's a man's musk, a woman's natural perfume. The smell of sweat, the smell of a pussy, the smell of sex."

Anne shifted, growing more anxious by the second. Alex went on: "And of course, smell and taste are connected. We start salivating before we even taste, but when we do ... A man always remembers the first time his tongue lapped at a woman's juicy cunt. A woman remembers the way her first cock tasted when it slid between her lips. The way his semen tasted when it slid down her throat. The way your lover's mouth tasted the first time you kissed intimately."

Anne's hairs were standing on end now, her squirming more constant. "You even remember the way the body tastes with other, more familiar flavors."

Suddenly, Anne felt a heavy, warm presence raise itself in front of her face. She instinctively opened her mouth, and in moved Alex's cock. Thick and stiff, not impossibly long but a length that felt right for Anne, it filled the space between her cheeks instantly. Anne closed her lips around the shaft ... and was surprised by what she found.

Alex's dick tasted of chocolate. As Anne sucked on his manhood, the sugary sensation flooded her taste buds. She opened her mouth and gasped, taken aback, her lips curling up into a delighted grin.

"Alex, did you ...?" His "shhh" interrupted her question, and she happily obliged. Her soft, pink tongue emerged from her mouth and licked the veiny hardness before her, slurping up a dollop of something thick and creamy.

She slowly lapped at his cock, all around the sides, up and down. She wasn't giving a blowjob; she was enjoying dessert. The sweetness was addictive to her senses, heightened by the lack of sight. She heard slight sighs come from Alex's mouth, punctuated by the occasional moan. The sound of Alex's pleasure only made Anne lick more voraciously, as her juices grew thicker between her thighs.

In went the entire length of Alex's cock into Anne's mouth again, sliding deep into the damp oral sheath. Anne grasped him around the base of his member and pumped passionately -- first, with a sultry leisure, like a hot, sticky summer day, then more vigorously, more violently. The chocolate was all but gone now; what was left was the taste of manly flesh.

Tiny moans escaped from the corners of Anne's mouth as she sucked his dick, sliding her slips all the way up to his balls, his pubic hairs rustling against her nose. Alex then took Anne by the hand and lovingly helped her off the bed and onto her knees on the soft, carpeted floor. She felt submissive and girlish kneeling in front of her man like this, taking his cock into her mouth and pleasuring him so. In and out, his meaty rod glided between her lips, until he was teetering on the edge of climax.

Alex withdrew and turned around, so that he was facing the same direction as Anne. He stood directly over her head. "Open your mouth," he directed, firmly but not cruelly. Anne complied. Alex lowered his scrotum into his lover's waiting mouth, and she instantly took to the new sensation, the new taste -- slightly sweaty, salty, rich -- the new texture. She took each of his balls at a time, sucking on them forcefully, then both at once. She felt Alex's body stiffen as the intense sensations rippled through her body as her lips vacuumed his most sensitive area. As she did this, Alex rubbed his still-erect cock around her face, her nostrils picking up the scent, still augmented by chocolaty sweetness.

Alex then took his cock in his hand and began masturbating himself, as Anne's tongue lapped at his balls and deeper, behind them. Again, Alex muttered, "Open." Like a bolt of lighting, into Anne's mouth burst Alex's cum, a sudden blast of sweet, thick cream. Like a rope, it shot from his cock and splashed against her tongue in waves. She closed her mouth after catching three dollops -- starting out heavy, and tapering off, as Alex panted, spent from his orgasm -- and swallowed. Anne had swallowed a guy's cum once before, but it was bitter and sour; Alex's, however, tasted entirely different, almost buttery, a little spicy, peppery.

"Oh fuck, Anne," groaned Alex. "That feels so ... incredible."

Anne pulled away and ltook off the mask. She looked into Alex's brown eyes, shooting him a sly grin. "You, good sir, are incredible."

Alex took her hand and helped her off the floor, then nudged her to sit down on the bed again. She did, and then reclined onto her back as Alex leaned in over her body to reach her lips and kissed her fiercely.

"Now," he said, his voice bathed in a rasp, "it is my turn to feast."

Alex kissed Anne squarely between her breasts, then once, then twice on each nipple, sucking for a slight tug. His lips puckered their way down her milky white stomach, each little kiss like a breadcrumb he was leaving in succession as a trail down to her most delectable gingerbread house.

Once he reached her pubic mound, covered in curly dark hairs, he inhaled deeply. He had appreciated Anne's uncropped bush, and found the heady brew of wetness and pheromones trapped within to be inebriating. There, he put out his tongue, and let it lick long and slow down her fleshy vulva.

Anne grasped Alex's hair, squeezing a tuft of it as the first intense jolt hit her upon his tongue's touchdown. "Unnnhh," she moaned, low and guttural. Alex's tongue, broad and flat, felt incredible against her tender lips. "That is --"

Before she could finish her sentence, Alex's tongue swiped directly over her clit. Another rocketing sensation zapped Anne, and again she could only manage an, "Oooooh, fuck, Alex. Damn."

Alex raised his head to look up at Anne and chuckled. "Fuck Alex? All in good time, sex kitten."

Anne giggled. "Oh god, yes, am I your sex kitten. I will purr for you anytime if you keep doing that."

Alex again lowered his head below the horizon of Anne's mound and touched his tongue to her slit, slurping around this way and that. Eventually, the tip of his tongue found its way inside her hole and Anne gasped, grabbing tighter to Alex's hair.

He licked back up toward her clit, and began a maddening swirl, his tongue going up and down, back and forth, like a swirling vortex. Anne lost herself in the intensity of her pleasure, time and space unfolding around her. The waves of pleasure were coursing through her veins now, making her light-headed. She writhed and wriggled, her knee occasionally popping up and settling back down, as Alex devoured Anne's now-sopping pussy.

He pulled up for air, gasped, "You trust me?" and went back down. "Uh huh," answered Anne. She wasn't about to put the brakes on now. She was in the moment and going with it, whatever it was. She was slowly becoming putty in her lover's hands ... and his mouth.

She felt something hard lightly graze her asshole. Then she felt Alex's hand squeeze and caress her buttocks. God, that feels good, Anne thought. Alex traced up and down the crack of Ann's ass, then wet his finger liberally in her juices, which were heavy enough to sufficiently slick the digit. Alex then lowered his hand and touched Ann's anus, softly poking against it to feel it out.

Anne wasn't sure how she felt about this, having never been touched here before, but ... well ... she did say she trusted him, and everything felt so good ... She didn't voice any objections, and Alex let his finger rest against the puckered hole, which started to breathe against his touch, loosening itself gradually. Little by little, his finger sank inside of her until, before either of them knew it, he was in up to the knuckle.

The combination was mind-blowing. Alex's tongue against her pussy was incredible, but Anne knew more or less what to expect; but complemented by this ... God, it made her feel so FULL. And this was just one of his fingers! Her asshole gripped tightly around his finger and he started to rock it forward and backward, with slight, careful motions, so as not to lay too much on Anne too quickly.

"Ohhhhhh goddddddd," she almost gurgled, her tones deep and husky now. The effect on her was incredible; the sensation of a tongue against her clit and a finger in her most private place -- the feeling of it, the nastiness of it -- had her overcome with lust.

"Feel good?" asked Alex, again grabbing a mouthful of air momentarily.

"Fucking awesome," she replied. "You are soooo fucking my asshole."

"Not really," said Alex. "This is just a taste, like an appetizer."

"It feels," Anne began, then started laughing. She didn't even know why. "I don't know how to describe it ..."

Alex grinned. "Dirty?"

"Oh, I am soooo your dirty girl," she cooed. "I'm your dirty, depraved slut."

"And you want more?"

"Oh god yes. Please."

Alex's tongue was now whipping around, causing a frenzy. The pace picked up and Anne was nearing the edge. She could feel the orgasm starting to rise up from her deepest places, threatening to wash over her, overtake her. At first, she tried to control herself, but then the pointless defense slipped away, and Anne gave in to her climax.

Anne's body bucked. Her muscles stiffened. Her legs straightened out. Her grasp on her lover's her became vice-like. "AHHHHHHHH!," she wailed, trying in vain to muffle her scream with her arm. She leaned forward and pulled Alex up off her pussy up to her chest and leaned over to hold him tight to her as she exploded with pleasure.

Anne collapsed onto her back and could only pant, staring up at the ceiling. Alex crawled up next to her, looking into her still-wild eyes. His face was glistening with her juices.

Anne turned to reciprocate his gaze and grinned, laughing a little and shaking her head. She was completely spent, her body having been rocked in ways it had never before known. "How did you ...?" she sputtered, words failing her in the moment. "What did you ...?"