Sizzling in Singapore (A Carnal Cuisine Novel)

by Falls, K. C.

  "Isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Mae said as she made her way to his perch on the grotto's ledge. "I was hoping I'd get the chance to see you in that garment you claim is a bathing suit." Mae approached with with slow lazy strokes and rested her arms on the ledge next to his dangling legs. Nick could see that she was having a long hard look at him as if making some sort of decision. His erection was plainly visible even in the dim light and there was nothing he could do to hide it. If it made her uncomfortable, she wasn't telegraphing that at all. Instead she seemed cool and not the least bit self-conscious. She rewarded him with a wicked little smile. "Now that I've seen you in the eyepatch, how 'bout slipping it off and joining me for a swim? You did imply that you enjoy being naked."

  Nick didn't need any stronger encouragement as he slid into the water next to her and slipped his bathing suit off. His cock was so stiff that it nearly pressed into his taut belly. "Being naked with your lovely body next to me is a double pleasure." He reached out and took her shoulders in each hand and pulled her toward him. Although the water was too deep for her to stand, his long legs rested comfortably on the bottom of the pool. He slipped one hand down her back and cradled her tight, tiny ass as he traced the outline of her face with one finger. He moved his finger over her parted lips. She tongued and then lightly bit the tip.

  Mae playfully pulled away and swam out into the pool. Nick followed behind, the better to watch her lithe frame, her legs as she gently scissored them and the sweet curve of her bottom rising and falling with each kick. She rolled over and looked back at him. The light reflecting on her dark brown mane and the mischievous little grin on her face reminded him of a sleek sea otter. He did a surface dive and a few strong strokes under the water brought him around behind her head. He pulled her backwards onto the raft of his torso and floated her into the cave.

  Mae turned and twined her arms around Nick's neck and drew her face close to his. They exchanged soft kisses at first, discovering the taste, smell and feel of each other. He nibbled beneath her ears and she shivered with delight. She laced her fingers in his jet hair and he answered by taking her tresses in his. Her breasts floated against his chest and her nipples brushed back and forth against his. His cock bobbed beneath her electrified pussy and he felt as if she was ready to suck him inside her body. Heat radiated from his groin as their kisses grew more insistent. His tongue found hers and she gasped into his mouth. Their tongues explored, running over teeth, tickling corners, sucking and being sucked.

  Nick slid his hand further under her ass and teased at the folds of her pussy. Even under water, it was easy to distinguish the cool wetness of the pool from the slippery hot juice that was pouring out of her. He lightly ran his fingers on both sides of her slit and then back up her ass to press the pouty little hole he found there. He felt her back arch as if she would impale herself on his throbbing dick then and there. He was nearly mad with desire.

  He was determined to stay in control. Nick didn't want to hurry his pleasure at the expense of hers. He turned her around and lifted her easily onto the ledge he had occupied minutes before. He hoisted her like a feather and spread her knees with his hands to expose her clit that he was sure was throbbing to be touched. He nibbled the inside of first one thigh, then the other as he teased her pussy lips with soft touches. He slipped a finger inside her and began a slow massage of the sweet spot there. He knew her clit was screaming for attention, but Nick continued to tease and nibble everywhere but that red-hot button. He took each of her pussy lips into his mouth and suckled them in turn. He ran his tongue from back to front and back again. She arched and moaned, reaching her hand down to spread her lips and as if to beg him to narrow his focus to her now quite erect little shaft. Finally, he locked onto her pleasure target and began to massage it with his tongue.

  "Oh, that's it, suck me, eat me." She answered his mouth with groans of pure lust. She began to move against his tongue, grinding her pussy into his face. He knew that her sensations had become singularly focused on her clit--that her world was now a small place between her legs. She grabbed his head and begged him not to stop and as she bucked against his mouth he sensed the inevitability of her orgasm. The contractions began to roll from deep inside her. He could feel the spasms of her climax start and sucked hard on her clit as she squirted a gush of juice against his chin. Her clit was rock hard and pulsed against his lips like a beating heart as she gave herself over to him, to her pleasure. She grabbed his hair and pulled him away from her now exquisitely over-sensitive little knob. He rested his head against her thigh as she caught her breath.

  "Oh. My." Mae smiled down Nick's fine, aristocratic face, "Such a very talented mouth. You're breathtaking, Nick." She slid back into the water and kissed his lips that tasted of her sex, her juice, her come. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. His erect cock was screaming to fuck her as it trembled below her still throbbing crotch. She began to tease the head with her pussy. Every inch of him was trembling with the knowledge that he would soon penetrate her tight, willing cunt.

  He was more than ready. He had nearly come just eating her. She was so responsive. Her pleasure was beautiful. There wasn't a hint of inhibition, not a whiff of hesitation in her delight. Her body was electric and alive in every way a woman's body should be. She held nothing back. Now as she bounced above the head of his dick her pussy lips kissed him in all the right ways. She whispered in his ear, " Are you ready to fuck me, Nick?" and the words exploded in his head making his cock throb and ache to be inside her.. He took her hips in his hands and pressed his cockhead into her. She spread her legs even wider, urging him inside her body. His turgid shaft slid into her amazingly wet hole that gripped him in a tight embrace. She sucked her breath in with his entry but took every inch of him with sheer abandonment. He began to move her slowly up and down his dick and she tightened the muscles of her pussy with each stroke. His hands gripped the cheeks of her ass harder as the pace of their fucking increased.

  She added a little grinding motion to her rhythm each time he was fully inside her and he knew that she was pushing her clit against his pubic bone. It drove him crazy with lust to know that she was going to come again as already he recognized how she strained when her climax was near. Suddenly, he could feel her bear down on the base of his cock and he heard the deep guttural growl of her mounting orgasm. His cockhead throbbed and he felt the explosion of his own imminent rush. She became still with the contractions of her pussy and he thrust hard against her a few times before he too simply pressed bone to bone and let the rush of hot semen finally fill her waiting hole.

  He was spent. The delicious release of orgasm allowed him to finally find the relaxation that had been eluding his jet-lagged head. They swam in silence to the pool stairs and sat for a moment on the tiled steps.

  "That was wonderful. You are wonderful. Thank you." He whispered into her shiny, dripping hair.

  "The pleasure was mine. Twice." She kissed him sweetly on the lips and then on the forehead as she climbed out of the pool. He watched her glistening body in the feeble light and wondered when he'd get the opportunity to fuck her again. As soon as possible, that's for damn sure. What a fine piece.

  They shared his towel and a little awkward moment as they prepared to part. She didn't ask how long he would be staying at the Elysium. He didn't volunteer. He watched her walk away toward her room and felt a little guilty. Maybe I should have told her. Too late for that now, Nicky-boy. The pussy's out of the bag.

  ***

  Mae hadn't really known what to feel or what to say to Nick after their romp in the pool, so she said very little. There was the afterglow of outrageous pleasure, but also a tiny bit of regret that the pleasure came in such a fleeting package. She felt out of character and out of her element not quite sure what the 'procedure' was in such an impromptu encounter. He was a guest and he would be gone, if not tomorrow, then undoubtedly very soon. Too soon.

  As they walked in opposite directions toward
their respective rooms she sensed a bittersweet emptiness between her legs that his thick cock had recently filled. She tightened her thighs as her pussy remembered the magical moment of penetration. That sublime feeling of being whole...of having an empty space filled.

  She sat on the edge of her bed for a long time after she reached her room. By the time sleep seemed possible, she had considered every conceivable way she could think of to finagle another meeting with Nick Seville.

  She could easily find out which room he was in. She could surprise him with a 'complements of the chef' room service treat.

  She could simply call and ask him for a date.

  He could come looking for her.

  Something, maybe that little voice of self-preservation, told Mae to leave it alone. There was too much power in our passion. Another session, or several, is going to do more damage. I already ache and it isn't just between my thighs.

  When sleep finally darkened the whirlpool of her thoughts it was very late. Her alarm seemed to sound just minutes after she nodded off.

  ***

  As chef de cuisine in a hotel as large as the Elysium, Mae wore many hats. The one she enjoyed the most and felt she was best at was the role of teacher. Training cooks as beginners and as they advanced through the kitchen hierarchy was something that required knowledge and patience. Mae considered herself as accomplished as the best of chefs and she had a knack for communicating with the various nationalities and personalities that flowed through the Elys kitchen.

  Her underlings were almost exclusively male and there was often some resistance about taking instruction from a woman. Many female chefs overcompensate for their gender and become worse tyrants than men in the kitchen. But Mae chose another path--she used her charm and her undeniable expertise to garner the respect she needed to be a success. Her confidence in her ability fell just short of cockiness because she recognized that she would probably never develop the creative brilliance one needed to be a groundbreaking, headline-grabbing 'celebrity' chef. Weird combinations of ingredients and slavish devotion to anything 'new' simply left her cold. She felt that sometimes--often really--the classics were still the best choice. That's why hotel work suited her. Rarely do hotel patrons expect to eat dishes that have been 'deconstructed'. And while fusion has its role, a grand old hotel is not one of the places it is likely to be found.

  Kurt was gone so Mae was at it earlier than usual. There wasn't a second to spare to savor last night's delights. She checked the produce order and had a short conference with the burly butcher about the reliability of the meat purveyor. Thankfully, the head butcher was a competent guy from Germany who could take on the supervision of the meat stock. That was one less thing for Mae to worry about. The menu changes that she had hoped to have in place two days ago would have to wait. She moved into the kitchen to check on one of the guys who had recently moved up a notch from cold to hot sauces. He was a thoughtful, quiet guy from the Philippines and he was having a bit of trouble adjusting to the demands of his new position. Filipinos made up the bulk of the lower rungs on the kitchen ladder, but the upper rungs were a hodgepodge of Europeans and North Americans using their culinary skills as a ticket to travel and adventure.

  "How's it going, Reggie?" She paused by his station where he was obviously preparing a batch of Hollandaise for breakfast service. Eggs Benedict, and many variations of them, were one of the classic favorites that went out of this kitchen by the dozens. Reggie's first day making the buttery sauce for breakfast service had unfortunately resulted in a broken disaster that had to be thrown out even though Mae had valiantly tried to salvage it with a little ice. That trick works well on a family-sized batch, but not so well on a grand scale. The broken sauce backed up the breakfast service by just enough time for the other line cooks to dish out a fine measure of ridicule to the hapless Filipino. He wasn't used to the abuse so common in Western-style kitchens and seemed a little shaken by what would have rolled right off Mae's back.

  "Ah, Chef Mae. Thank you-thank you. I think we have better sauce today." He bobbed up and down like some mechanical toy. "Taste-taste!"

  Mae dipped her little finger in the pot of sauce. Very nice, Reggie. Just the right texture and there's a good lemon kick to it. Just hold it carefully. Too hot and it will break. Too cold and it won't be appetizing on the eggs." She moved along down the sauce line checking that everything was as it should be.

  At the far end of the kitchen near the walk-in cooler, Mae stopped to go over the list of cold dishes to be served at a luncheon in the Orchid Room with the garde manger. "They specifically asked for our steak salad with the gorgonzola horseradish cream. You're going to have to throw the salad together at the last minute or it will get soggy."

  "Yes, Chef."

  "I want two mirrors at both ends of the buffet with identical charcuterie."

  "Yes, Chef."

  "The shrimp are in the walk-in?"

  "Yes, Chef."

  "I want my wasabi cocktail sauce with those shrimp, not the usual."

  "Yes, Chef."

  Mae looked up from her list to see the hotel's general manager making his way through the kitchen toward her.

  "I hope to hell that you have something good to say to me, Claude." said Mae as he approached. " I don't mind telling you that I am worried sick about Kurt and I'm also done in. A basket case."

  "Well, my dear Chef Mae, you wouldn't know it to look at you. You're absolutely aglow." Claude's French-Swiss charm was always at the ready. "I'm afraid I can't shed any light on our missing Executive Chef, but I can provide you with some temporary relief. We have a stand-in exec out of our sister hotel in San Francisco. He was actually retiring from his position, but agreed to pinch hit here until we sort the situation out or until you decide to take the job."

  "Claude, I appreciate your confidence in me, but: A, I want Kurt back and B, I'm not executive chef material. I like it out here, I don't care for menu planning and I really suck at food costing. There's way too much office time involved in the exec's job."

  "No harm in trying, Mae." Claude glanced at the checklist Mae had only begun. "I won't keep you. I just wanted to let you know that the pinch-hitter will be in some time this morning. I wanted him to take at least a day to recover from jet-lag, but he insisted on beginning immediately. He has a wonderful reputation at our San Francisco sister. It's really generous of him to give us his time in our hour of need."

  "Maybe the old guy just wants a last hurrah before he hangs up his toque for good." Mae said as she turned back to the garde manger and his list.

  "Oh, he's not..." Claude started to say, but realized Mae wasn't listening anymore.

  ***

  When Nick entered the kitchen at the peak of the lunch rush, he was happy to see that the layout of the shop was identical to what he knew in San Francisco. He was relieved to find himself in familiar surroundings if only at his workplace. He could almost swap out the sea of Filipino faces for his beloved Mexican staff and feel right at home.

  The gleaming stainless work tables, the spotless white tile walls and the walk-in coolers spoke of efficiency and order. The line-up of the workhorses--grill, flat top, oven, stove and fryers--were all in their places and humming the symphony of service. Plates clacked, food sizzled and " ordering...one fish and chips, one chef's salad--SOS, one Mulligatawny soup" became the chorus. This was the music of Nick's life and he loved it.

  Sometimes, Nick felt that he had been born in a kitchen. Certainly, his earliest memories took place in the back pantries and occasionally the prep stations of the many kitchens his father called home. His mother had a bad case of wanderlust and travelled frequently. She was warm and beautiful when she was around, but she was the inconstant parent in his life. His father, on the other hand, was ever-present. He was an old-school chef, gruff and raw of speech, but passionate about his work and his son. He kept his only child close, even if that meant that Nick spent countless after-school hours in the care of prep cooks, dish washers and the
odd bartender or waitress.

  So it was at an early age that Nick learned more about food and its preparation than most people will know in a lifetime. Before he hit puberty, he could tourné a potato with seven perfect sides, clean a fish and all manner of meats, make mayonnaise by hand, and make and reduce a stock to glossy perfection. He had begun the journey as a child and that journey now brought him to the Elysium. He surveyed the movement of the dance and listened to the song of the kitchen and felt confident that he would be able to step into Kurt's place efficiently and get the job done.

  He didn't want to interrupt the flow of service so he quickly tucked into the exec's office that occupied a small elevated platform at the back of the kitchen. A couple of the guys glanced his way, but the kitchen staff was so busy, they hardly had time to take notice. Once he shut the door to the office, no one knew he was even there. The smoked glass window that overlooked the kitchen obscured him from the staff's view and he sat down at the desk to watch his new team in action. He wondered when he'd run into that hot little pantry girl he so pleasantly fucked last night and hoped she wouldn't be pissed off when she discovered he was her new temporary boss. He would very much like to have a piece of that cute little ass again.

  He turned his attention to the menu files he had pulled up on the computer and tried to concentrate on what he was reading. Jet lag was hitting him hard and he couldn't seem to will himself to stay focused. His thoughts kept circling back to those round globes of her tight ass pointing up at him and that sweet pussy dripping an invitation to mount her. How he'd buried his face between her thighs and made her shudder as he drew his tongue from cunt to asshole. Next time, he intended to pay a lot more attention to that ass.