so last night i watched him cook.
after a fantasy fulfilled on counters and stove tops, our appetites were as big as our eyes.
it began by the guest bathroom door next to the stairs as my head rested on the first step and his head moving slowly between my legs.
one of those moments where God magically appears on the ceiling.
the mirror behind the mail table allowed me to watch
and he could see me seeing him enjoying parts of me i needed him to enjoy.
we next moved to the old couch with the torn pillows right across from stereo pumping out janet jackson wailing 'but i didn't even get to cum.'
neither of us would use that line this night.
my tongue, as short as it is, managed to find that one great spot and moved in a circle watching his head do the same and his lips part and come together again as though he needed to speak.
this time there were no need for words.
his back pressed against the old onion and green pepper pieces on the cutting board from out dinner just 56 minutes prior to this spontaneous session.
but it didn't matter.
the back of his thighs pressed against my chest and his head on a side tilt into the sink.
but it was comfortable.
i made all the right moves.
in and out and side to side.
but all slow.
there's something about the kitchen that prohibits fucking.
you have to make love in kitchens or at least show a deep infatuation.
his chest pressed against the refrigerator and my chest pressed against his back we danced naked to the southern hummingbird.
me inside him.
slow.
'i swear i'm spinning. i'm on a merry-go-round.'
with the left side of his face pressed against the freezer and his lips held captive between his teeth he showed his deep infatuation with me in the refrigerator door.
and i followed but remained inside.
after the bleach bottles disappeared and the kitchen was clean again, i sat at the bar listening to tweet's track number 9 and waited for the smells we created to fade away while the smells of the potatoes, pancakes, salmon cakes, eggs and turkey bacon took over.
so that's what i did last night. i watched him cook.
5 comments:
Oh, what i would give to be "a fly on the wall," or even the green pepper piece left on the cutting board...i was so mad at you when youd confessed to fulfilling your kitchen fantasy...you lucky, dirty dawg you...and lets not touch on the pleasures of the tongue & cheek (glory be!). But despite it all, you remember your manners and cleaned up well behind yourself. You do us prove :-)
WELL OL RIGHT! Shit last night I played Domino's... Guess I'll catch up to ya'll in a few. My post will be called "So during Halftime, we Touched Down!". LoL. Good post yo.
~Damnit!
And I be like, damn, that's hot!
damn, can I be you and watch him cook too! I am gonna print out all of your posts and read in the bathroom at work and fill that toilet!
Ahhh Kitchen sessions warrants something special!I remember those times, I have to make some new times...
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