Sauce

Sauce

Status: Finished

Genre: Memoir

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Memoir

Houses:

Summary

How a smell takes me back X

Summary

How a smell takes me back X

Content

Submitted: June 04, 2016

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: June 04, 2016

A A A

A A A


We woke at midday made a languid kind of love on our tangled sheets. Later, hunger drove us from the bed. Me in knickers, him in a tee shirt, the smell of sex hung between us as we slipped down the narrow staircase.

The floors were cold despite the heat outside. Stone. Uneven. I slid my feet into stilettos as I stood warming the herbs in hot oil. The aroma of marjoram and bay rose as he pushed tomatoes through a sieve. Crushed garlic pierced our nostrils. The tomatoes plopped in the pan then spat as they hit the fat.

He stood behind me, arms holding me against the Aga rail, trapping me against the cooker. Our legs touched. I used the flat wooden spatula to blend the sauce ingredients before it started to boil.

We pressed together watched the red volcanic liquid bubble as it heated. Then a hand left the rail, teased against the elastic of my knickers. I stirred and pressed my cheeks against him. A finger probed deeper. More insistent. Finding its quarry and making me gasp and rock.

I turned, after sliding the pan to the side of the hot plate. To simmer. Our faces close. I needed the heels for that. Horizontal his height isn’t an issue. We kissed then. Aching slow movements. Hands moving fast over our bodies. Needing. Wanting.

He lay on the floor. I’m sure his t shirt didn’t cushion the blow from the hard bumpy surface. But as I straddled and felt it under my knees I was glad he’d been a gentleman. He was hard. Again. I thought I loved him.

I parted my panties and slid on. Skewered on him, I tipped my head back. Long dark curls tumbled down my back as I gasped and smiled and Fuck yes God! It hurt. A piercingly deep fuck. Pleasure pain made my eyes flutter shut as we fucked. The sauce thickened. The smell filled the air, tugged at our hunger as we sated different desires.

And now as I make it, the smell takes me back. Makes me gasp with remembrance. His stiffness. Our youth.  As I hold onto my own cooker thinking back to that long summer of pasta and sex.


© Copyright 2017 NinaBellini. All rights reserved.

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