Butter. What is it about butter? Just a stick of it turned a dinner into so much more. It started in the kitchen with me cooking. A nice dinner for the two of us. Roasting a chicken with vegetables. Something simple and easy. We were well into a bottle of wine when I led her into the kitchen to watch me put everything together. She had never roasted a chicken and wondered how it was done. And even though I described the process, it didn't seem to suffice.
It was simple really. Put some garlic pods, half an apple and a slice of bread inside the breast. Sprinkle with some salt and pepper. Pour some scotch over the chicken. Take an inch from a stick of butter and warm it in your hands. Massage that into the chicken so that it's fully covered. Then simply roast
Anyway, she was curious to watch, so in the kitchen we went. I worked as she sat on the counter watching as I rinsed the chicken. A cigarette in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, a thin stream of smoke rising from the ash from between her amber nails. Her legs dangling over the edge of the tiled top, her heels hanging off of her toes as they swung back and forth. She narrated my actions as I went along, teasing me at each step.
"So what are you doing now?" She coyly asked, taking in a breath of smoke.
"I'm rinsing the chicken."
"And now?" Exhaling in a thin stream.
"Patting it dry."
"You handle it well," she said. Smiling at the innuendo of my working the meat.
"I'm a trained professional you know." She laughed.
I sprinkled it with salt and pepper and sprinkled a little scotch over the bird. Then went to the refrigerator for the butter. I removed a stick from the door and brought it to the counter. She looked at me, raising her cigarette. I pointed to the cabinet, knowing what she wanted. "Saucer," was all I said.
She tapped her cigarette on the saucer, leaving a small gray ask in the center of the white china.
I cut off a few inches and started to massage it in my hands. Rubbing it back and forth between my fingers. Then moving my hand onto the chicken. She watched in silence as my fingers and hands began to smooth the butter over the chicken. Leaving a glistening bird behind as my fingers moved. I hadn't noticed her eyes and her face as they she watched.
"That looks interesting." I turned to see her talking over the rim of her glass. Her eyes watching my hands. Her lips taking in a taste of wine.
I smiled, knowing that after dinner we would couple together and enjoy our erotic fun.
I wiped my hands off and set the bird into the oven.
I closed the door.
"Well that looked interesting." She smiled.
I watched her, wondering what she had in mind.
"I wonder." "Hmmmmm?" My eyes raised.
"I wonder what about these?"
I watched as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse with her empty hand. Her wine and cigarette filling the fingers of her other. She smiled as her blouse opened. Her breasts at first rounded globes beneath the open vee of shirt. One, then two brown areoles appearing as she pulled the shirt from the waist of her jeans. Her eyes never left mine. Staring into me, penetrating my eyes.
She pulled her shirt back, as I reached for the butter.
She smiled, stopping me. "You're forgetting something, aren't you?"
I looked at her. She was undoing the top button of her jeans.
She just said one word, "scotch."
I brought the bottle over to her, my thumb partially covering the opening. I sprinkled a few drops over her breasts. Then bent down to touch each amber drop of liquid with my tongue. Connecting each of the drops with a moist touch of my lips. A few more drops on her nipples, quickly savored with my tongue. Her brown skin raised up in response to the cool fluid and my mouth. Taught, tight nubs that responded as I rolled them between my lips, bit them softly with my teeth. I watched as she watched me. Alternating from a breath of her cigarette or a sip from her wine. She smiled as I lifted myself from her.
I moved to the sink to pick up the now warm butter. Squeezed in between my hands and placed them firmly on her breasts. Two small but firm breasts with beautiful brown nipples. Our tongues mixed in a full flavor of Marlboro, scotch and wine. They entwined as my hands coated her breasts, her stomach, her body with the sensual butter. It warmed and oozed between my fingers. It coated her front, leaving a glistening tinge to her skin. The wet feeling of her body, of skin separated by a thin film of oily pleasures was beyond erotic. It was sublime.
I watched as she set down the cigarette and wine and undid my shirt before removing her own. She pulled me in to her, rubbing her chest against mine. Reaching behind me to grasp my ass, to pull me closer to her. I felt, more than saw her legs wrapped around me, feeling the heat of her sex press firmly against mine as our bodies slid across each other.
Her tongue caressed my ear lobes. Her tongue stabbed into the ear itself as her breath blew past me. One of my hands slid down the waist of her pants, following the curves of her cheeks down her rear. She pulled herself closer to me, pressing our sexes together. She pushed me back, her hands moving down my chest to unbutton my own pants, pulling the zipper open and reaching down to hold my erection. Her hands still covered in oil slid without friction over my pleasure. My own hand, still in the waist of her jeans, moving down to her rear.
I stepped back and removed my pants before stepping toward her and removed hers for both of us. I took more butter from the refrigerator's door and held it in my hands. We both watched as it began to drip on her thighs. Small yellow drops of oil that started to drip down her thighs, creating small, thin streams. She reached for the yellow stick that filled past my hands. Taking a square herself and rubbing it onto my cock. Her hand trailed beneath me, rubbing the butter onto my ass from between my legs.
Her lips were covering my nipples, biting them caressing them. Her tongue covered my own areoles as her fingers started to probe me. To push past my own ass and into me. Her body slid off the counter as she took me into her lips, her fingers still roaming over my rear, into my rear. My own sex slid past her lips as she took me alternately into her mouth, then covered my shaft with her lips alone.
Our eyes met as she took a breath. She smiled. She moaned. Then she stood and let our oiled bodies combine in a writhing combination. I lifted her up and onto me. Her legs wrapping around me, her ass just barely touching the counter when I pushed back into her. My own fingers now found her anus and slid in. The oil making the way an erogenous movement. Her eyes rolled for a moment as she pressed back against me, pressing me further into her. Then they opened and stared into my own. Animalistic, wild, wanting more as our tongues entwined. Both strong, wet, tasting of butter. Both of our hands met at the point of penetration. Hers caressing my balls, mine caressing her sex. Both in a massaging and wet effort to heighten our pleasures.
We continued until I almost came. But her hand was on me before I was able to. Her fingers clasped around me and held me tight, not allowing me to orgasm. I did anyway, strong and full, but with a release. She pulled me out of her and pushed me back. Then slid off the counter and turned toward it. Her hands placed firmly on the tiled edge. Her back arching in a smooth curve. Wet, oiled, smooth, ending in her rounded ass. Falling down to glistening thighs.
She reached back and grabbed me. Pulling me into her, guiding me into her sex. She pushed back into me. Her head turning back, as her hair flowed over her shoulders. I watched as she fucked me. I was just left to stand there and watch her piston herself onto me. My own hand once again finding her other opening and gently pushing in. I felt her own fingers roaming over my cock. Guiding it into her, feeling the entire length enter her, then pull back.
She went up on her toes. Providing me even more access. She pushed back from the counter, making her breasts available to me. Available to my still oiled hands as they glided over the soft roundness of her flesh. I felt them give into me, felt her taut nipples slide between my fingers, roll between their tips. I felt them move and swing with every thrust of my hips.
It was as if I left for a moment, and gave everything up to the sliding, slippery erotic move we made.
And when we finally came. It was together...