Intercourse and Spinach – An Erotic Story by Venus O’Hara



“I want intercourse.’ I wrote in a textual content message to a former pal with advantages.
We had been so accustomed to one another that I knew he wouldn't be offended by the intentional omission of well mannered pleasantries in my message. I knew that my directness would flip him on. It was a summer time afternoon years in the past once I was working in actual property. I used to be bored and attractive and I needed to do one thing about it. 
He was my male equal and we had been fuck buddies for years. I’d by no means met anybody who understood me so nicely. A few of our respective associates puzzled why we weren't a pair given the truth that we clearly adored one another. However we had been satisfied that having a correct relationship would smash the magic between us. And why would need we to try this? 
“I’ll be at your house at 8:30.” He answered instantly. 
I barely had time to bathe once I bought residence from the workplace. As well as, I needed to make my lunch for the next day. I used to at all times put together a packed lunch for work. This wasn’t simply to economize, it was as a result of the vegetarian eating choices within the space the place I labored had been just about non-existent. 
After assessing the contents of my fridge, I made a decision to make a spinach pie. I used to be going to need to boil the spinach and thaw the puff pastry on the identical time. Then, I might unfold the boiled spinach onto the puff pastry. I might high it off with cheese and tomato and lay one other sheet of puff pastry on high, to cowl the filling. I might bake it within the oven till it was golden brown and crispy. As soon as cooked, I must go away the spinach pie to chill earlier than placing it within the fridge in a single day, able to take to work the following day. It was a easy process that comprised a number of levels. I wanted to do all of this and attend to my sexual wants when time was restricted as I didn’t wish to go to mattress too late on a weeknight.
Multiorgasmic multitasking was the one possibility, I concluded. 
I made a decision to show an obstacle into a bonus. I bought wearing a crimson gingham apron and heels with nothing else. Once I heard the doorbell, I used to be already aroused in anticipation. Once I opened the door, he appeared impressed as he eyed me up and down as I stood there in my attractive cooking apparel. 
‘I have to make my lunch for tomorrow,’ I mentioned. Then I proceeded to stroll down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, exposing my naked derriere, upsetting him to caress my buttocks as I walked forward of him.
In line with most individuals, it will be impolite to begin cooking after receiving a visitor, particularly when it was a meal that they weren't going to get pleasure from.  However he knew that the one dish on the menu that night time was me. 
I already had a pot of water on the range. I lit the fuel and began to warmth it. We kissed and he undressed whereas he caressed my nearly bare physique. He was exhausting very quickly in any respect. I handed him a condom, turned my again to him and confronted the range, bending ahead barely, making myself accessible for him.  There was no level in pursuing foreplay, I used to be desirous to be possessed.
Our intercourse life was outlined by penetration and never a lot else. One thing magical occurred each time our our bodies related like items of a jigsaw puzzle. It was mesmerising. I had typically learn in girls’s magazines that almost all females wanted clitoral stimulation to succeed in orgasm. I used to be the exception to the rule on condition that I may at all times come from penetration alone. 
He entered me slowly and when he was totally inside, I sighed with reduction. Sure, this was what I had been desirous about all day. No marvel I couldn’t focus at work. This was what I used to be craving a lot. He began transferring as I gripped my vaginal muscle tissue towards him rhythmically, offering stimulation to us each. I couldn’t assist however moan expressing my ecstasy despite the fact that I used to be nonetheless a great distance from reaching climax. 
I used to be having fun with this for some time however once I heard the water beginning to bubble, I opened my eyes.  I reached over to the freezer that was on my proper aspect and took out a block of frozen spinach.  I eliminated the plastic packet and popped it into the pot of virtually boiling water. In the meantime, my lover slowed down in order that I wouldn’t lose my steadiness throughout this all-important culinary process. 
Then the rhythm of thrusting elevated. I needed to chew my lip and attempt to delay my climax as I needed it to final for so long as attainable. Moments later, I used to be immediately distracted once more by the effervescent sound of the spinach beginning to boil. It was now not a frozen block; it was beginning to disintegrate. I gave it a fast stir and decreased the warmth barely. 
As quickly as I put the picket spoon down, he began accelerating the rhythm. It was nearly getting darkish and the one factor that was illuminating the kitchen was the blue flame of the fuel. The sound of the boiling bubbles, hissing fuel flame and our our bodies slapping collectively frenetically at an ever-increasing tempo in addition to our deep respiration was like an erotic symphony. My kitchen smelt of intercourse and spinach. An uncommon but hypnotic mixture that took me over the sting as he held me by my hips and nibbled the nape of my neck. 
I let go of any resistance and I surrendered to the second and welcomed my imminent orgasm as we moaned collectively in unison. I used to be possessed by pleasure, spasms and scandalous sounds. Nothing else mattered at that second. Not even my lunch. 
As we bought our breath again, he withdrew and disposed of the condom. ‘That was wonderful,’ we each agreed. We had one other profitable orgasmic encounter so as to add to our already considerable sexual repertoire. I provided him a drink and we went to the lounge to atone for life whereas my spinach pie was baking. When the oven timer went off, we mentioned ‘goodbye’ and we promised to satisfy once more quickly. 
The subsequent day on the workplace, when lunchtime got here, I couldn’t wait to lastly style my spinach pie. I heated it up within the work microwave and several other colleagues complimented me on my home made creation. ‘It smells wonderful,’ somebody mentioned. ‘You will need to give me the recipe,’ mentioned one other.  I smiled with satisfaction because the spinach pie satiated my starvation in a method that packed lunches made with frozen meals from finances supermarkets not often may. As I devoured it, I remembered how I had made it and I let myself get distracted over again.  

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