have never tasted potato salad like this before, the dressing you used is unlike anything I have ever tasted.”
“It’s Mum’s speciality, she taught me when I was a kid. You just substitute the mayo for natural yoghurt and add a few secret spices. Finally, some chopped spring onions and a couple of roughly chopped boiled eggs and Bob’s your uncle, homemade potato salad is served,” Nixx announced, flippantly waving his hand over the table.
“Huh ha, so the secret spices are …”
“Secret,” he winked, shoving a fork full of the creamy salad in his smirking mouth.
“Secret? Really?”
“Well, I could tell you, but then … you would have to marry me. You know husband-wife privilege and all that.”
The funny banter was suddenly taking a serious turn, the M word being mentioned before the L word has even made an appearance throwing me.
“That is quite a … trade for a few spices, don’t you think Nixx?” I asked, my mouth drying despite the food I was eating.
“Nope, seems fair to me,” he replied easily, like hinting that he wanted to marry me didn’t scare the bejesus out of him.
Nixx waved his fork at my plate. “Eat up baby, after we finish, I want to show you the rest of the house, then it’s dessert time.”
The innocent word dessert held new meaning to me.
Me, Nixx was going to eat me for dessert. My legs trembled under the table and my core sprung to life.
Oh dear god, Nixx is going to lick me down there.
A deep growl from Nixx had me staring at him; the pure desire in his hooded eyes was enough to set my pussy weeping for release and for his tongue. No longer hungry for food, I slowly and deliberately set my cutlery down next to my plate, then picked up the serviette, wiped my mouth, and laid that down too.
Taking two deep breaths, then another one, I looked Nixx straight in the eyes.
“I’ll take option two, please.”
FENIXX
The air between Farron and I was suddenly electrified by her request to skip the tour and get right to dessert. I had no problems with it, but Farron? She was good at talking big, but I could see how nervous she was, from her stories about her marriage, I knew sex was a big deal for her. The experiences she had with the lowlife she married knocked her confidence as a woman, and it wasn’t going to be easy to get her to relax. Licking her pussy was not the miracle cure here. Listening to what she wanted was, as well as treating her carefully and respectfully.
My sexual life was not a book of who’s who, there was no long list of conquests or legendary stories of three-day sex marathons, threesomes or anything like that. I liked sex, had had it many times and enjoyed each and every woman I’d had it with too. For me though, it was always something more than just the simple act of getting on a woman and putting my dick in her. I liked, no, really enjoyed the intimacy sex offered. The foreplay for me was just as important as the actual act itself. The women in my past had been chosen carefully, I didn’t engage in casual hook-ups. I got to know them, went out to dinner, talked to them, spent time seeing if we had a spark before taking them home. While we had a common thread that gave us the connection to go there, none of them provoked that special something down deep in me to start a real relationship.
Farron was that spark, the ignition I had been waiting for.
This was all about her, my pleasure would come from hers. Seeing her being treated the way she should have been all of her life. There was nothing I would not do to make sure she got what she craved, what she deserved. Nothing.
I wordlessly lead her from the back deck and through the kitchen with her hand securely in mine. Knowing without looking at her, that she would be looking it over despite her nervousness. The stainless steel appliances and the colourful backsplashes behind the stove and sinks, giving the kitchen a real glamour touch. I spent a good deal of time designing and creating the perfect environment in the kitchen. Mum taught me to cook during my illness and I kept that passion after I got well. Yes, I spent more time outdoors than in, but I liked to cook my own meals, well