by Golland, KM
‘So, was it that bad?’
Snapping my attention away from the boring white ceiling, I turned to face him with an indignant look. ‘No, of course not. It was great. Wonderful, in fact.’
‘Well, just so you know and to reassure you further, I never have unprotected sex,’ he said sincerely.
I nodded gratefully, but was uncertain as to why he decided to break that rule for me. ‘Oh. So why did you do it this time ... with me?’
‘Because you are different,’ he responded quickly, shooting up from the bed and grabbing a pair of tracksuit pants. He pulled them on and walked back toward the bed, his deliberate intention to change the subject quite obvious. ‘Right, I promised you satay. Are you hungry?’
A little taken aback by his response to my question and his subsequent Speedy Gonzales action, I answered, ‘Yes.’
‘Good, you can help me,’ he said as he held out his hand.
I placed mine in his and gave him a sceptical look. ‘Ah ... I’m not one to excel in the kitchen.’
Pulling me upright until I was standing flush with his chest, he smiled greedily and squeezed my arse. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
***
‘Sweet fucking Jesus, you weren’t kidding, were you?’ Derek asked accusingly, as he tried to stir the pot I had been in charge of. ‘What the fuck did you do to the rice?’
Flustered, I stepped back from the stove and put my hands on my hips. ‘I don’t know! One minute there was water and the next it was gone!’
‘That’s because you’ve boiled the ever-loving shit out of it!’
‘No. It’s because your saucepan sucks ... literally. It sucked all the fucking water away.’
Derek laughed with a disbelieving tone. ‘My saucepan did not suck the water, Carly.’
‘Whatever! Someone or something did, because water just doesn’t disappear into thin air.’
‘Actually, it kind of ... never mind,’ he said, smiling. ‘Here, stir the sauce while I fix the rice. Don’t stop stirring, okay?’
Widening my eyes at him in a show of impertinence, I once again positioned myself at the stove. ‘Okay. Geez!’
As Derek began pouring boiling water from the kettle into the pot of gluggy rice, his sexy voice softly sounded throughout the kitchen. It was a surreal feeling to be standing there with him while he sang carelessly, but no matter how it felt, the unworried, relaxed and serene atmosphere he generated was very pleasant. I could honestly say I was thoroughly enjoying it.
The lyrics of ‘Black’, by Pearl Jam, filtered out of his mouth, mesmerising me with the smooth and sultry tone. And it was obvious that the ability to maintain such a melodious tune was effortless for him. The man had a gift. Well ... actually ... he had many gifts.
Realising that I was staring at the back of his head and in a Derek-sing-along fog, I returned my focus back to the satay sauce which had now escalated from a gentle simmer to a berserk boil. ‘Shit!’ I muttered quietly to myself.
I shot him a quick glance and noticed that he was looking over his shoulder in my direction. ‘You didn’t burn it, did you?’
Stirring the sauce frantically, I spotted bits of burnt residue surfacing, evidence of yet another kitchen fail. Bugger, bugger, bugger. ‘No, I didn’t,’ I answered defensively.
‘Baby,’ Derek hummed against my ear, his hands sliding across my bustier-covered stomach. ‘That black shit floating around in my sauce says otherwise.’
Startled, I jumped mildly, then melted into the virile man standing behind me. ‘I did warn you that I sucked at cooking.’
Derek removed the pot from the stove and turned the gas switch off. ‘Yes, you did, which begs the question, what else do you suck at?’
I giggled, savouring his lips on my neck. ‘Is that a trick question?’
‘No,’ he chuckled. ‘I want to know what else you are terrible at?’
I couldn’t help rubbing my arse against his cock in an enticing manner. ‘Not much. Well, there is one other thing I’m terrible at,’ I answered as I turned back to face him with a mischievous smile.
‘Yeah?’ he whispered against my ear, his breath warm and inviting.
My eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. ‘Yeah ... bowling.’
He chuckled before placing one of his hands on my hip and the other in between my shoulderblades. Then, gently, he pushed me forward so that I was bent over just slightly. My breathing spiked as he began to untie the ribbon which held my bustier together, but it was the feeling of his hard cock pressing into the apex of my arse which paused any further intake of air. Holy fuck! I’m ready for round two and quite possibly rounds three and four soon afterward.
The sex drought I had experienced prior to this evening would no doubt go down in history as one of the longest ever endured and I intended to make up for it.
‘Stand up and turn around,’ he commanded, his voice now husky.
His sexy rasp added to my oxygen-depleted state, but I complied and straightened, only to find that my bustier was now loose enough to fall to the ground.
Derek smiled appreciatively as he took in my bare chest. ‘Definitely the nicest set I’ve seen.’
‘So you keep saying,’ I answered, sliding my hands up my abdomen to give the ‘nicest set’ a tantalising squeeze.
He stepped forward, dipped his finger in the satay sauce and gently wiped it down my neck. The sensation was hot, but not enough to scald — it was an exquisite torture.
Derek then dropped his head and lapped up the sauce trail in one delicious swipe, all the while pinching my nipple with his thumb and forefinger. The way this man licked my skin was a sweet mixture of carnivorous need and sensual ownership.
Grabbing the saucepan, he knelt down before me and placed the pot on the floor next to him. He then looped his fingers into the waistband of my G-string and pulled them down my legs.
I stepped out of them, together with the bustier, and opened my stance for what I knew he had planned. With my hands behind me, braced on the edge of the stove, I was positioned and hankering for his tongue, fingers and lips.
Derek dipped his finger in the pot again and then teased me by swaying it in front of my face. ‘Do you want some, baby?’
I smiled and nodded eagerly.
‘What was that?’ he questioned, turning his head and putting his hand to his ear. ‘I can’t quite hear you.’ Derek then placed his finger in his mouth and pulled it out seductively while giving me a sexy wink.
You fucking twat-tease. ‘Yes, you sexy piece of caramel.’
He let out a large belly laugh. ‘Sexy piece of caramel?’
Frustrated, I squatted down and dipped my finger in the pot. Then, eye-fucking him heatedly, raised my finger to my mouth.
Derek grabbed my hand before I had the chance, wrapping his lips around my finger and licking it clean. Then, positioning my hands back on the edge of the stove top behind me, he let them go, leaned forward, and buried his head in between my legs.
‘Oh ... god,’ I moaned as he gently lapped at my pussy, his tongue’s unhurried ability making me smile appreciatively. ‘Do I taste better?’ I asked, my voice low, but playful.
Closing his eyes, he nuzzled my clit and then pulled away. ‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no?’ I exclaimed. ‘What’s wrong with my pussy? Why doesn’t it taste better?’ I asked with a new-found sense of anxiety.
I pushed his head away and squeezed my thighs together. Derek, on the other hand, wrenched his head from my grip and gently sank his teeth into my hip. The penetration was not painful, but it was enough to make me shriek and pull his hair. Well, if he had any hair I would’ve been successful in pulling it.
‘Derek, what are you doing?’
‘Don’t ever stop me from eating your pussy,’ he said, after releasing the skin on my hipbone, leaving a nice indent from his bite.
‘You fucking bit me!’
Smiling devilishly, he placed a light kiss on the spot, soothing the area. ‘Yes, I di
d.’
‘You said you didn’t bite,’ I accused, while narrowing my eyes.
‘I lied,’ he admitted before giving me a cocky smile and attempting to part my legs again.
I clenched them tightly.
‘Carly!’ he warned sternly. ‘Open your fucking legs.’
‘No.’
‘No?’ he questioned, as he pulled them apart.
‘Derek!’ I squealed.
‘Baby, shut up,’ he interrupted. Quite rudely, I thought.
‘Don’t tell me to shut up,’ I said, astounded.
‘Sorry. Please refrain from speaking such utter shit so that I can go back to devouring your cunt,’ he corrected himself.
My jaw dropped in shock, and then stayed that way when he once again buried his head between my legs and ferociously licked, sucked and nipped.
I cried out, gripping the bench for stability, his continuous motion skilfully tickling my clit. Derek’s lust-filled eyes hungrily enflamed my core and, together, they both tipped me over the edge. ‘Oh ... god ... fuck,’ I mumbled incoherently.
Throwing my head back, I braced myself on the counter once more and closed my eyes, letting my orgasm roll through me. Every single nerve ending I possessed was alight, fizzling divinely as I slowly regained my sense of normalcy.
When I brought my head up from its slumped-back position and managed to pry my eyelids apart, I noticed Derek standing before me, tracksuit pants miraculously gone.
His cock was fully erect, pointing prominently at me, taunting me with a voiceless message to have a taste. As I stared at it ravenously, I mentally tied a napkin around my neck and licked my lips.
‘Lay down,’ I growled, pushing off from the stove and gently shoving him backward.
He obeyed, lay down, arrogantly put his hands behind his head and then waggled his eyebrows at me. ‘Enjoy,’ he said boastfully.
Kneeling down in between his legs, I leaned over and dipped my finger in the sauce then trailed it along one side of his ‘V’ muscle. As the heated substance touched his skin, he let out a harsh hiss. The sexy sound had me bending forward and looking up at him from underneath my lashes. ‘Oh, I will, don’t you worry.’
I opened my mouth and dragged my tongue along the line of sauce, performing a second pass in order to consume every skerrick of it. I then repeated the same action, wiping and licking sauce from the other half of his ‘V’.
Watching as his cock bobbed eagerly under my chin, I took a hold of it and teased his tip with my tongue. He groaned quietly, his cock twitching within my grasp.
‘Behave,’ I said with a playful warning.
It twitched again, so, this time when I opened my mouth, I wrapped my lips around his crown and sucked on the smooth head, happily rubbing my lips all over it.
‘Fuck, baby, we should try this with sauce more often,’ he groaned. Yes, we should. I love sauce, especially mint sauce. Oh, my fucking god! Derek’s cock covered in mint sauce!
Now running my tongue up and down his shaft, licking it with my incessant strokes, I mumbled my new-found fantasy. ‘Uh uh. Ext ime, gona sped int auce on ur cock.’
‘You’re gonna what?’ he asked with a laugh.
I lifted my head. ‘I said, next time, I’m going to spread mint sauce on your cock.’
Derek sat up and leaned back on his elbows. ‘Bullshit you are. Isn’t that stuff made with vinegar ... and mint? It will fucking burn.’
‘It will not, big baby,’ I reassured him, dipping my finger back in the pot and trailing it along his inner thigh before running my tongue along his muscled leg.
Continuing to paint the satay sauce on his legs, chest and abdomen, I made my way up his torso, stopping at his pecs and neck, before wiping some more sauce on my lips and then mashing them to his.
Derek grabbed the back of my head — securing me to him — and plunged his tongue into my mouth, kissing me passionately and heightening the peanutty taste. He then flipped us over so that I was now lying on my back and he astride me.
As he leaned over to reach the pot, his cock teased my face. I sucked it back into my mouth and bobbed up and down hungrily.
‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ he groaned, while bracing his hands on the ground just above my head. ‘You want me to fuck your face, don’t you?’ he asked as he started rocking his hips toward my head with a gentle assertiveness — his question more of a statement.
I watched the lower muscles of his abdomen flex and his eyelids close over as lust dominated him. Wanting to heighten his euphoric state, I reached up and cupped his balls in my hand while swallowing his slow, deep thrusts.
‘Fuck!’ He pulled out, dragging his heavy-weighted dick down my body before stopping and hovering over my hips. Derek then wiped some sauce down my neck and over my nipples, chasing it eagerly with his tongue.
By that point, we were both smeared quite extensively with the nutty mixture, and without taking a peek into the pot, I would have hazarded a guess and said that satay chicken was no longer an option for dinner.
I sat up and positioned myself on all fours before crawling toward him. ‘Sit,’ I commanded and waited for him to do so before straddling his lap.
Lifting up just slightly, I hovered over him so that he could position the head of his dick at my entrance and, when feeling his tip tickle my flesh, I lowered and engulfed him completely.
Derek placed his hands on my hips and assisted me with riding him. The thing was, I considered myself a fucking rodeo star. Therefore his assistance was not required. Over the past few months, I’d been deprived of sex and, because of that, was raring to go. I didn’t need assistance. No, the only thing I needed was to make up for lost sexual time.
‘Carly, Jesus, slow down,’ he groaned, tightening his grip in order to slow my bouncing.
I reached over, grabbed the pot, plunged my hand into it and then smacked it against his chest, splattering sauce on his face and across my breasts. ‘Don’t tell me to slow down when I’m riding your cock,’ I barked out, mimicking the tone of voice he used when warning me not to stop him from eating my pussy.
His eyes widened in surprise then glazed over with a boyish grin that spelled nothing but trouble. Shit!
Before I knew it, I had a handful of sauce mushed over my chest and neck. He even went so far as to dab some on my nose. Derek then swirled his finger around my nipple, collecting some of the sauce that had rested there and then stuck his finger in my mouth.
I bit down.
‘Fuck,’ he groaned, his groan a mixture of pain and desire.
He glared wildly at me then rubbed and squeezed my breasts firmly, almost to the point of pain, yet the smooth-slippery sensation his hands were producing erotically stimulated me toward climax instead.
‘Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Oh, god,’ I moaned as my pussy clenched around his cock.
Derek then bucked into me and groaned ferociously before pulling my mouth to his and drinking any further screams of ecstasy.
Slumping over him like a rag doll, I rocked slowly as our orgasms subsided, our kiss now slow and sensual. I then mustered whatever energy I had left and pulled away from him, both of us smiling at one another.
‘Holy fuck!’ I said in wonderment.
‘That was ... nuts!’ he replied with a stupid grin.
I cracked up laughing and dabbed some sauce on his nose. ‘We are so doing this with mint sauce.’
Derek secured me with one arm, braced himself against the kitchen cupboards and pulled himself to a standing position with me still attached his waist. ‘Oh no, we are fucking not,’ he said with conviction.
I giggled. We so are!
***
First port of call after satay-sex was the shower. Albeit hot, fun and exciting, it was exceedingly messy.
While I’d washed using Derek’s masculine toiletries, he’d cleaned the kitchen and ordered a pizza.
‘That’s better,’ I said as I walked toward him while drying my hair with a towel.
He stepped up
to me and fiddled with a wet strand of my hair. ‘I’m just going to have a shower. Make yourself at home. The pizza should be here soon.’
‘Okay. Do you mind if I snoop?’
‘Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of you snooping ... you know, me agreeing to it?’
‘Go and have your shower,’ I said playfully, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom, his peanut-encrusted back still deliciously enticing as he exited the room.
Once I was alone and Derek was happily singing in the shower, I had a chance to really inspect his house. Situated in Richmond, it embodied a Victorian style; it was small with heritage values. For a man, I must say, it was incredibly neat and tidy, but like Derek had said when we first pulled up outside, it was badarse.
The walls were painted light grey, the high ceiling and architraves white and elegant. The floorboards were stained with a light oak finish and the furniture was rugged, worn and screamed masculine. His couch was made of dark green leather and had a well-worn exterior. And, of course, his TV was huge and braced against the wall.
Beneath the TV was a lowline unit which had an Xbox and a rather extensive DVD and CD collection. There were also three guitars leaning up against the wall and, above them, a framed picture of Jimi Hendrix.
From what I had seen thus far, his house consisted of two bedrooms: his master bedroom and a spare bedroom which was also used for storage. He had one living area, one bathroom and toilet, a laundry and a dining and kitchen area. He also had a small alfresco courtyard out the back and a single garage. His cottage really was perfect for him.
Spying a motorcycle helmet on the floor beside the front door, I walked over to it and picked it up.
‘When the roads aren’t wet, I’ll take you for a ride on the love of my life,’ Derek said from behind me.
I spun around quickly to find him standing in the doorway of his bedroom, a towel hung low on his waist and his skin still delectably moist. What also became moist was the apex between my legs.
Placing the helmet back on the floor, I eyed him up and down as I prowled toward him. ‘I’ll tell you what. How ’bout I take you for another ride instead.’
