by Farrah Paige
We entered the studio without a problem. The security guard knew me and they weren’t shooting anything else this late in the evening. Our studio, like all studios, were basically one big building filled with equipment and a few offices. Basically, a studio is just a place where they can leave the lights and equipment and, if you do a show like ours, keep the lighting set ups so all you have to do is walk in and turn on the lights. (Not that it ever gave us a break on the production costs from the crew with all the unions, but at least it saved us time.)
It took me a couple of minutes to turn on the lights. Besides being a set, we also needed functional kitchen appliances, heat and refrigeration. We stored food on the set, often for long periods of time. Sometimes when we ended a season, the staff would forget and leave some food in the fridge. Then some poor P.A. would have to clear out the rotting mess that had grown over the summer break.
By now, we were gearing up for the new season, so the pantries were stocked so we could shoot in a couple of days. Unlike a restaurant, food costs weren’t really an issue. In fact, the show wasted a ton of food. So much so, that I was sometimes embarrassed by it and we tried like hell to give it to homeless people when we could.
“Wow, this place is huge,” said Honey. “You have so many duplicate kitchen areas.”
“Yeah, it saves the production time to just have everything ready,” I explained. “This studio costs a small fortune because they actually had to stock it with food and keep the place super clean. I mean, you could probably run a restaurant out of here with enough basic ingredients.”
“Oh, this is an actual pantry?” she said opening the door. “Huh, yeah. You’ve got all the ingredients in here.”
“Yep and over here’s the fridge,” I said opening the door.
“You’ve got cans of whipped cream in here? What contestant would use that?” she quizzed.
“Sometimes we have to “fix” the food,” I admitted. “The lights sometimes make the food look bad. So if it’s something with whipped cream, we might have to jazz it up a little bit for the cameras.”
“You won’t have to do that with me,” she assured me. “My stuff should hold up under the lights for a bit.”
“Well, honestly, I have to admit,” I said a little uneasy. “I do hope you win. I, uh well, I find you very attractive.”
“I kind of got that vibe,” she said, looking away and then back. “I find you really attractive too, but I’m in a competition. You’re the judge.”
“But I, you’re all I think about,” I said, looking into those beautiful eyes.
We kissed passionately. Despite what was at stake, we couldn’t deny our lustful desires. I started kissing her neck as I held her against the refrigerator. Her lips and skin were soft, warm and inviting. I kissed downward and into her cleavage. I unbuttoned her blouse and pulled her breasts from her bra. I licked her tender nipples and kissed them.
“Oh, Clark,” she whispered. “Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good.”
After several minutes of worshiping her two mounds of flesh, I wanted to go further down. I wanted to eat her sweet pussy and stick my tongue deep inside her folds. But she stopped me and knelt down instead. Reaching into the fridge, she pulled out a bottled of whipped cream. Then she unzipped my pants. My cock was straining against my underwear inside. She maneuvered my cock out into the open and then covered my manhood with the whipped cream.
Then she started to lick at the cream and my unit. She suddenly swallowed me whole, the cream running down her face and onto her breasts. Handing me the whipped cream, I took a hit from the bottle as she continued to suck my cock with wild abandon. Never had I been so turned on by a woman, I started to lose control.
“Honey, I’m, I can’t, Oooooh,” I moaned.
I came inside her mouth. It was a huge explosion of cum from deep inside my balls. I hadn’t had sex in several weeks, so the load felt massive as I pumped it into her. She devoured it all, drinking in my essence and swallowing. She topped it off by licking the end of my dickhole, which was incredibly sensitive from the experience. I was lightheaded from the orgasm, but I wasn’t ready to quit.
Energized, I lifted her up and put whipped cream on her tits and then licked it off. I got it all over my face and she kissed me and licked me. We were becoming a mixture of food and lust. I lifted her up to a nearby counter. I found a banana and peeled it. It was nice and soft, but cold. I pushed it into her sweet pussy, which radiated heat.
“Ooo,” she said at the cool sensation. “What have you done?”
“I filled you up,” I said. “Now I’m going to empty you.”
I started licking at her hole, eating the banana. The taste was indescribable. It was a mixture of banana at its perfect ripeness and Honey’s sweet juices. I didn’t have to worry about the pieces getting stuck inside her, she flowed like a waterfall into my mouth as I licked her labia and teased her clit with my tongue.
“Oh. Oh, Clark,” she moaned. “It’s so good. Eat me. Eat me like fine cuisine.”
“You are the finest,” I muttered into her love box. “I want to baste you with my tongue all night long.”
“Oh, God, yes.” she begged. “Take your big meat thermometer and test to see how hot I am. Plunge it inside me. I’m almost cooked.” she said.
Quickly I got out a condom, ripped opened the package and slid it on my rock- hard member. So incredibly sexy was this woman, I was ready to cum again. I plunged inside her like a wild animal. Holding her by the back of the neck and her leg I began fucking her over and over again. I pumped like a man possessed.
Achieving what I had desired since I saw her, I could barely contain myself. The walls of her vagina were tight, moist and warm. No, not warm like an oven. They were cooking my meat to perfection, lending it flavor and taste as it expanded.
“Oh, yes. That’s it, Clark.” she begged. “Don’t stop. Fill me up with your cream. I’m ready. I’m ready.”
Again, I was overcome. I came as hard as a man could and I struggled to maintain my balance as the sheer force of the orgasm threatened to collapse my whole body.
“Ahhh. Oooh,” I cried. “Uhhhn.”
But it wasn’t over. This woman was insatiable. After a few minutes of shaking from the aftershocks of the orgasms, she went down on me again. This time, she drizzled my cock with chocolate shell she found in the fridge. I couldn’t believe how hard I got with her mouth on me. It was like I was a kid again with a hard shaft.
“Mmmm,” she moaned. “Chocolate covered cock.”
She had chocolate all over her face and it gave me an idea. I lifted her up and turned her around suddenly. I squirted the chocolate up and down her ass crack and started eating it.
“Oh, my God. Clark,” she moaned. “What are you doing to me? Oh, God.”
I had never done anything like this before, but her sexual desires were rubbing off on me. Had I suddenly lost my mind? I felt like I was out of control but didn’t care. Here I was, on the set, making a mess and having sex. And not only sex, but the best sex I’ve ever had and doing things I had never done before.
“Ooooo,” she cooed. “Now fuck it. Fuck my chocolate covered asshole. I want it filled with cream.”
By this time, I was rock hard again. Fortunately, I had another condom and slipped it on. Oh, God. Her ass was so tight. It gripped my cock as I penetrated her sweet anus and went balls deep. I don’t remember when I had cum so many times in such a short period, but I was super sensitive now. My cock could feel her muscles tensing up. I reached around to tease her clit and pussy with my hand and juices were just running out and all over my hand.
“Fuck meeeee,” she squealed. “Fuck meeeeee.”
I came. So help me God, I couldn’t believe it, but I came almost right away. At this point, I wasn’t sure there’d be anything left in me but there was. This woman was absolutely draining me of my essence.
When it was over, I was calm and suddenly clear headed. What had I done? I fucked a contesta
nt on the set. Good gravy! The press would have a field day with this, not to mention Ethan. He could definitely use it to get me thrown off the show. Had I just thrown my career away for a momentary passion.
“What’s wrong, Clark?” asked Honey, suddenly aware of my distress. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course,” I panted. “I’m just a bit woozy after that. It was very intense for me.”
“For me too,” she admitted. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s ever done something like that with me. It was so…forbidden and sexual. I have no regrets. And don’t worry, I’ll keep things quiet.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” I said. “I would feel strange to ask. It seems somehow wrong to expect you to---“
“Shh-shh,” she hushed. “Let’s just enjoy the moment.”
We held each other in our arms, basking in the post-orgasmic glow for a few moments. Why was this so hard? When a man and woman meet, what’s complicated about love and lust? Shouldn’t it just be? It seems like sometimes the entire world is designed to do nothing else but keep lovers apart.
I’m sure in other parts of the world it’s much, much worse. Here, there was a lot at stake professionally. I could lose my television career and the great amount of money it provided. Could I trust Honey? She felt like a person I could trust, but that might have been the sex talking.
Surely Ethan would be furious. I would have to get her away from him as much as possible, but I also wanted her to win the competition. Her food was good, but whether or not the best baker won was questionable. Some cracked under the pressure, while others simply didn’t do well in a strange kitchen. And sometimes, I’m ashamed to say, the producer would push us one way or another. He shouldn’t really have a say in the ending of the show, but that was television. People wanted a story.
Honey had a great story, but you never knew with Steven. He could decide a different contestant should win and that would be problematic. If he found out I fooled around with Honey, I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on in a show meeting. Ethan too, for whatever he did with Honey back at her bakery.
Ethan was a hothead too. He might go crazy if he found out that I had sex with her. Well, let him come. I’ll beat that little shit to within an inch of his life. It was a long time coming, despite today’s events. He could put on a polite face when he wanted, but the guy was a menace and there was no way I’d let Honey end up with him.
The two of us got dressed and cleaned up the set. It was highly unlikely anyone would know we were here other than the security guard. I escorted her back to the hotel like nothing happened and gave her a kiss in the hallway outside her room. For a moment, I was tempted to stay, and she was tempted to invite me in, but we both knew that would blow our situation wide open. I left wanting more.
I headed to the lobby and grabbed an Uber back to my place. It was Taylor again.
“Hey, Mr. Peterson,” he greeted. “How’s today treating you?”
“Today?” I smiled. “Much better, Taylor. Much, much better. Thanks for asking.”
He left it at that. When I got home and finally went to bed, I slept like an angel. I had never been so relaxed. I plotted in my mind how I would eventually make Honey mine on a more permanent basis. I would do anything and pay any price.
Chapter 11
Honey
I got up in my hotel room, alone. I wasn’t feeling lonely, but quite the opposite. I had two men chasing me and now I had basically had sex with both of them. Was I leading them on? And worse, they were both judges on a competition I was entering. I guess most people would’ve said I had good odds, but I felt like a cheat. If the boys both picked me, how would I know if they picked me for cooking or because they were both in love with me.
Well, I just had to put that out of my head. It wasn’t my fault anyway. Steven had blackmailed me to come on. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his. If it hadn’t been for him, I’d be back in my bakery raking in the cash and wondering about hiring a second assistant.
On the first day of the competition, we showed up with the three other competitors. Maybe it was just my natural inclination not to be competitive, but I felt like a fraud compared to them. They had matching chef uniforms and had bakeries in big cities. Then again, if I got knocked out of the competition early, at least I could go home. Steven couldn’t mess with me as long as I did what he wanted, right?
The host of the show was a very skinny woman named Rita Charleston.
“Hey everyone,” greeted Rita. “I’m Rita, the host. Here’s how all this is going to work. I’m going to come out and introduce the show, myself, our judges and then all of you. They’ll be shots of you standing at your stations, so look prepared to cook, okay. Try not to move around or talk. Then I’m going to announce what you’ll be baking and then segue into a commercial. Then we’ll stop, so don’t start cooking yet. Any questions so far?”
I raised my hand.
“What if we have to go to the bathroom or something?” I asked.
“Uh, go now if you have to,” she said. “But once we start cooking, you’re on a time limit. Just like the show. Now we may have to get pick up shots for the camera. We’ll get them before the competition. Then, we’ll come back from commercial, I’ll introduce the segment and I’ll tell you to go. You then have 50 minutes to bake the item for our two judges. At the end of that 50 minutes, we’ll stop and take a short break. Then we’ll interview each one of you, the judges will taste your wares and pick a winner. We may or may not interview some of you again after that, but definitely the winner. Any more questions?”
Rita looked at me for some reason. I don’t think she liked my bathroom question. In fact, I don’t think she liked answering any questions. Guess it was just holding up her day.
“Okay, great,” said Rita. “Let’s do this, Steven.”
Steven came over the P.A. system in the studio.
“We’re just about ready. You look great, babe,” said the producer.
“Yeah-yeah-yeah,” muttered Rita, not really buying Steven’s compliment.
“Oh, my God,” whispered Emma. “This is so exciting. I can’t believe we’re here.”
“Yeah,” I said nervously. “Neither can I.”
The lights came up and Rita started the show.
“Welcome to the Baker Battles, I’m your host, Rita Charleston. Tonight, a competition between some of the best bakers in the country. First up. She is the pastry chef at the Four Seasons hotel in Philadelphia, with training at the Paris University for Cuisine. Please welcome our first master baker, Chef Myron Goodwin and her assistant, Lance Nethers,” began Rita.
The lights came up on Myron and Lance. Lance stood a few steps behind, while Myron bowed slightly to the camera.
“Next up, the creator of Caroline’s Cookie chain with ten locations in Minnesota. She is an award-winning cookie maker that has worked for Nabisco and several other major cookie makers. Please welcome, Caroline Flunkt and her assistant and husband, Bob Flunkt.”
Caroline and Bob waved to the camera. Bob had his arm around his wife. Hmm, must be nice.
“Our third contestant,” continued Rita. “Is a pastry chef with the Hard Rock Café Casino in Las Vegas. He was also a personal chef for David Blaine and Wayne Newton and was trained at the Culinary Institute of America, where he is now an instructor. Let’s have a big hand for Jacob Branson and his assistant David Lude.”
Jacob had a chef’s hat that lit up with several tiny blinking lights. He and his assistant wore shirts with flames and patterns so crazy they would’ve made Guy Fieri blush. Jacob twirled a spatula in his hand. These guys were the fanciest yet. How could I compete?
“And our final contestant hails from Connecticut where she runs an up and coming local bakery called Honey’s Buns. Please welcome, Honey Davidson and her assistant Emma.”
The lights came up on us and I froze. I was like a dear in the headlights. Emma smiled and almost laughed, she was so much more comfortable than I. I looked like
I was being interrogated by the cops in a made-for-TV movie. How did I get here? I just wanted to go home.
“And now our judges for this baking battle royale, please welcome Chef Ethan Jones and Chef Clark Peterson. Ethan is a graduate of the L’Academie de Cuisine in DC and Clark is a graduate of the Institute of Culinary Education in New York. Each chef has had extensive experience working for hotels, restaurants and their own lines of pastry products. But tonight, they will choose which baker is supreme.”
Ethan and Clark stood back to back as the lights came up on them. They were very practiced and looked like they were in some kind of buddy movie.
“Tonight’s pastry is a French classic that our Ethan is no doubt very familiar with, having grown up in France. It is…”
Rita paused for dramatic effect and then moved to a wall where she tore down a sheet. Behind the sheet on a fake wall was a picture of an éclair with the word “éclair” underneath it.
“The Éclair!” she announced excitedly. “When we return, our chefs will attempt to wow our judges with their culinary skills. Who will be victorious? There’s only one way to find out. Stay tuned. The Baker Battles start right after this.”
“And…we’re out,” said one of the crew.
Rita’s up and energetic personae immediately dropped as the cameras cut out and the lighting went back to normal. She marched off the set and went straight to the control room. From a distance, I could see her inside yelling at Steven and pointing in my direction. God, did she hate me or something? What the hell did I do? I wanted to tell her that I didn’t even want to be here.
Suddenly, a voice came on the P.A. system. It was the director.
“Uh, guys, let’s reset the shot for Honey,” said the director. “Can I get make up out there to touch up Honey.”
The makeup girl came up and touched up my face. She was a friendly old woman with gray hair and glasses named Cassie.
“Oh, my,” she said, dabbing my head. “You’re sweating like a pig. Calm down, girl. It’s only television.”
