by Rebecca Foxx
THE END
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Recipe for Pleasure
Chapter 1
Marco paced around his Greenwich Village apartment. He looked at his fingers. The nails were gnawed down to their ragged edges and they reeked of tobacco. He’d quit cigarettes six years ago. He hated the smell and the taste. He hated everything about them. On more than one occasion, he’d thrown diners out of his upscale pastry shop on Bleeker Street. But there he was about to run out for his third pack in the last two days.
“Honey, have you started packing yet?” That was the voice of his wife Aviva.
He hated for her to see him like this. For months maybe longer he’d sensed that she was losing her attraction for him. The spark was gone. They’d grown too familiar with each other. 10 years of marriage often did that to couples. But Marco was not willing to accept such an arrangement. He wanted to get back to the days when they hungered for each other, back to the days when she would sneak back into his kitchen an he would hold her in his arms while pounding his big hard cock into her.
There was an intensity and desperation about their early years together that was also missing. Marco had graduated as a highly decorated student from The Culinary Institute of America, the most prestigious culinary school in the country. He’d always wanted to own his own pastry shop. He had too independent and wild a spirit to work for someone else.
“Do you really think that this trip makes any sense?” Marco said, rubbing his temples. For the last two days he’d had painful headaches.
“What are you talking about? All across Europe people want to taste your newest desserts. These are going to be really big events.”
“But that’s exactly the point,” Marco said. “I don’t have any new desserts. I don’t have anything new. All of my ideas seem so stale these days.”
“Well, then you need to come up with something. I’ve really been looking forward to this vacation for months.”
Marco knew that he couldn’t pull out now. He was going on his first European tour. He was supposed to be showcasing his latest pastry creations and present them to elite audiences in Greece, Italy, and France. Months ago when he’d been invited to do this tour, it had seemed like such a great idea. It felt like his just reward for all of the work that he’d put in at his shop Indulgence, working damn near 100 hours per week just to keep the place up and running. That high intensity environment had been an incubator for his creative work. He didn’t have the same resources as the five-star restaurants that served exquisite dishes but he always knew that he was just as good, if not better than the pastry chefs that worked for the upper echelons restaurants.
Marco stepped out of his apartment for a stroll through the West Village. Sometimes just wandering through the city streets, lost in his own thoughts and undisturbed by the world jostling around him, would help calm his spirit and allow him to focus. But that night it didn’t seem to be working. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d lost something. Those long hours grinding it out as a pastry chef and business owner had really begun to take their toll on him.
This tour would be a complete failure, if he didn’t come up with any ideas. He walked down West 4th past Sant Ambroeus, an upscale Italian café. It was a warm June night in the city, so the outdoor tables were packed with diners. Marco couldn’t help smiling. He’d always loved the way that food was capable of bringing people together, slowing down the fast pace, hustle and bustle of city life, allowing them to spend quality time together.
He stopped walking and fixed his eyes on a chic young couple. They were smiling and staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. Looking at them sent a warm tingly sensation throughout Marco’s body. The couple reminded him of the love and joie de vivre that he and Aviva used to exude. Well into their marriage, they would still walk around holding hands and they would always end up making out on their way home, barely getting through the front door before they had torn their clothes off and began scratching at each other’s flesh. It had been a long time since they had done anything like that. Too long. Far too long.
The man extended a dessert towards the woman’s wide-open mouth. She had her eyes closed. The pastry hit her lips and some of its caramel landed in between her cleavage. She covered her mouth and chewed to rest of it. She was about to wipe the sticky, sugary substance from her chest. But before she could, the man made a signal and leaned across the table towards her. He whispered something to her and for a few moments they stared at each other conspiratorially.
The woman giggled and swiveled her head around anxiously. Then she slowly rose from her seat, smoothing down her skirt. She came around to the other side of the table and sat down on her man’s lap. He looked up into her eyes smiling, and then he directed his tongue towards the bit of caramel that she’d spilled. It had slid down in between her breasts. He didn’t hesitate to follow the trail that it had made, savoring each drop of its sugary delight.
Marco smiled. His cock grew hard. Ideas shot off in his brain. He had to get home. He had to get these ideas down. This was it! The inspiration that he’d been so desperate for.
He rushed through the door frantically and raced to his study. He had to get these ideas down while they were still fresh.
Several hours later. Aviva knocked on the door of Marco’s study. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear her. The door was slightly cracked. She gently pushed it open and entered the room. Her feet pressed soundlessly into the room’s carpet. She walked towards her husband, came up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She breathed into his ear, and then began nibbling on his ear lobe.
Marco was scribbling frantically on several pieces of paper that were spread out across his desk. He’d been steady at work for the last three hours, plotting and planning how he would go about making this European trip something that would keep people talking. He wanted to put on the kind of expositions that people would remember for years.
“I haven’t seen you in hours,” Aviva said, kissing her husband tenderly on the neck. “I thought that maybe you had another woman in here.”
Marco laughed. He cupped her chin in his hand, leaned in and kissed her. “Nope, babe. This is much more exciting than that.”
“Oh yeah. Looks like a lot of wild scribbling. Recipe ideas for the upcoming trip, I hope.”
“Much better than that, babe,” Marco said confidently. Over the last few hours his energy had come surging back to him. It had been years since he’d felt this kind of excitement about a project.
Aviva slipped her fingers under Marco’s chest and began rubbing his stomach. It was still hard and firm. He was still the same broad shouldered stud that she’d married. It warmed her heart to know that he was regaining enthusiasm for his work.
Her hands slid down further and further towards his crotch. She took hold of his ear lobe between her teeth. Marco couldn’t help smiling. He could feel the sparks of pleasure going off in his body. It was an absolutely electric feeling. His cock pulsated in his pants.
“I think I know what you need,” Aviva said. “I think you need my soft lips around your cock. I bet that will get you to talk.”
As she slowly unzipped his zipper, Marco closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His big cock was brick hard. It had been a long time since he remembered being so excited. He trembled with pleasure as Aviva’s hand clenched around his cock. He felt so damn sensitive. It wouldn’t be long until she brought him to the brink of orgasm and moments later cum would begin to shoot from his dick like a geyser. What a delicious feeling that would be. He lifted himself off his chair just enough to be able to slide his pants and boxers down his legs. His big stiff cock stood straight up in the air. It looked fucking huge. Blue veins snaked up and down the thick shaft. He couldn’t resist wrapping his own hand around it and giving it a few strokes.
“I forgot how beautif
ul your cock is,” Aviva said.
She was on her knees between his legs. Instead of trying to wrestle back control of the cock, she went straight for Marco’s big balls, taking one and then the other one into her mouth. While she was at it, she put one of her fingers in her mouth, sucked on it, and then rubbed the saliva-slicked finger around his tight asshole. As she swirled the finger around the edge of his hole, she could feel his entire body trembling with delight and anticipation. She knew that he loved nothing more than to have a couple wet fingers shoved up his ass. She hadn’t even gotten one up there yet and he was already cooing.
She slowly worked her fingers in and out of his tight hole. It gradually began to loosen up. With her other hand she stroke his cock up and down. It felt so damn hard in her hand. She could feel her pussy getting really wet. If only she had another hand!
“Oh my god that feels so good,” Marco said. “So fucking good.”
“Are you going to cum?” Aviva asked, a naughty smile playing on her lips.
“Oh fuck yeah, I’m going to…Ahhhh”
Marco let out a loud grunt as the cum began to spurt from his dick. Aviva clamped her mouth down on the fat cock head, taking every last drop into her mouth, until Marco had finally drained his balls.
She licked her lip and smiled with satisfaction. She was glad that she’d been able to get him off so easily. For many weeks she had yearned for some fun and dirty sexual play. And she realized that if it was going to happen then she was going to have to take the initiative. That’s exactly what she’d done by coming into his study while he was working. She was sick of waiting for him to make his move.
“Are you feeling better, baby,” she asked. She licked a few drops of cum from his cock head and smiled at him.
“Much better,” Marco said. “I’m really looking forward to this trip. I think that we’re going to have lots of fun.”
Chapter 2
Before they headed for Europe, Marco needed to stop by his publicist’s office. There were more than a few details to sort out before they got over there.
“Everyone that I’ve talked to overseas is really excited about your visit,” his publicist Miriam Kennedy said. For the last twenty years, she’d served celebrity clientele from coast to coast. But she’d never grown jaded or cynical. She always seemed filled with energy and excitement. That’s why Marco had chosen to work for her. He could no longer stand those New Yorkers who felt like they’d seen and done it all.
“Yes, I think it’s going to be quite the international exhibition,” Marco said. Before he walked into the office, he’d planned on keeping his cool, not letting on about how excited he actually was about the upcoming trip.
“Is that right?” Miriam said, leaning back ever so slightly in her chair and looking him up and down. She eyed him closely. She must have noted the change in his mood. It had been many months since he’d really shown any enthusiasm for life.
“To what do we owe this altered mood?” She asked with a sly smile. “I hope that you haven’t been running around with any vulnerable and naïve young women.”
“Vulnerable and naïve? That’s what you think that it would take for a young girl to sleep with me? Is that really what you think?”
“I’m not quite sure what to think,” she replied. “For the last few weeks, you’ve been moping around the city like a whimpering dog lost in the rain.”
“That’s a quite an image,” Marco said. “And thank you for noticing that things weren’t right with me.”
“As long as things are better now,” Miriam said. “This is a very big event. And I just found out yesterday that things are going to be a little more complicated than previously anticipated.”
There was a moment of silent tension. Marco’s eyes locked in on his publicist. The grave impression on her face made it clear that whatever she had to say was not going to be easy for him. Bad news, especially bad news related to the trip, was the last thing that he wanted to hear. He wanted to tell Miriam about the crazy, wild, erotic ideas that he’d come up with for the exhibitions.
“I hope this doesn’t have to do with any squabbles over money,” Marco said. “The venues can be so fucking petty sometimes.”
Miriam shook her head slowly from side to side. “It’s not the venues,” she answered. “It’s him. He’s going on a European tour as well that month. At least part of it.”
There was no need to say more. Marco knew right away whom she was talking about. It was his archrival and rising star on the celebrity pastry chef circuit, Christopher Icarelli, a hot shot from LA. He was almost ten years younger than Marco and he loved to poke and prod and do whatever he could to rile him up. For almost his entire career, Marco had been very careful not to engage in any sorts of personal battles and beefs. He found those sorts of stories to be unbecoming to chefs. Sure, if you were going to rise to the highest echelons of the profession then of course you had to be competitive. This was a field that required an insane amount of dedication and commitment. A lot of people went to culinary school after years and years of watching celebrity chefs on television. It seemed so easy, so glamorous on the big screen. But the reality turned out to be a lot different. That’s why so many wanna-be culinary stars burn out so quickly and slink away into other more traditional fields.
“So what does this mean for us?” Marco asked.
“It means that my job as your publicist just got a hell of a lot harder,” she answered. “He’s young. He’s hot. And he’s been on a roll lately. His latest line of French countryside inspired pastries was featured on the Today Show last week. Word is that he might be appearing on some of the late night talk shows next week.”
Marco sat back in his chair and stroked his chin. Just a few days ago this news would have completely destroyed his self-confidence. He would have felt greatly threatened by this young, arrogant, upstart from the west coast. But at that moment he felt a deep sense of calm. He was looking forward to the trip more than ever. He could see that Miriam was looking at him strangely. She must have expected some sort of emotional reaction.
“You aren’t taking any medications, are you?” She asked with a look of concern and skepticism.
“Miriam, I’ve always said that creativity is the best medication. And once again I’ve been proved right.”
“So how do you plan on winning the battle for publicity?” She asked.
“I just need a couple more days to finalize my plans. Trust me this is going to be bigger than anything that I’ve ever done.”
Miriam opened her eyes wide and slid to the edge of her seat. “And what exactly do you have in mind?” She asked.
Marco wasn’t sure if this was the right time to tell her or not. But he wasn’t going to be able to keep the secret much longer. He had to tell someone. And it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to get some feedback.
“It’s going to be an erotic exhibition,” he said, his eyes opening wide with excitement. “For all three of the countries that I’m going to visit—Greece, Italy, and France—I will prepare traditional desserts of the particular country that I am in.”
“That’s a nice idea,” Miriam said. “But it’s hardly going to be enough to steal the spotlight away from Icarelli.”
Marco interlocked his fingers in front of his face and slowly shook his head. He oozed self-assurance and calm. That fire, that mojo that had made him one of the most sought after pastry chefs, was finally coming back. He felt nearly ten years younger. He felt damn good.
“Instead of serving the desserts in the boring traditional way. I’m planning on spicing things up little.”
Miriam smiled. “That’s what she wanted to hear. Go no, tell me more.”
Marco didn’t feel like he needed to build up to the revealing of the plans anymore. He’d done enough of that. Once he told her, he would feel like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
“In each of the countries, I’m going to hire models. Normally such women would be employed as servers. But I don�
��t want to do that. Instead I would like for them to play the role of platters.”
“Platters? What does that mean?”
“I’m going to serve the pastries off their naked bodies,” Marco said triumphantly.
After a few moments of silence, Miriam cleared her throat and looked straight at Marco.
“I’m not sure if this is the craziest idea that I’ve ever heard or one of the most brilliant. If we can pull this off, it will be fucking huge. I’ll have to contact all of the venues to let them know that this exhibition is going to be a little on the raunchy side.”
“No, you can’t do that,” Marco said. “If word about the event spreads too soon, it will end up killing the buzz. As we get closer to the actual exhibition we could release all sorts of crazy clues and pics via social media. Forget the Today Show. Let’s go after a young, hipper, edgier group on consumers.”
“So you’re going to find nineteen year old models with tattoos and piercings?”
