This is a work of adult fiction and should be read only by adults. It is also my work. Although I receive no compensation other than your comments, it is still my work. Please respect this and do not repost it somewhere else without talking to me first about it. If you are not allowed to read works with sexual content, either due to your age or by virtue of the laws in the geographical location in which you reside, please do not continue.
Enjoy, and if you're so inclined, please let me know what you think. —Alexis
It was the only thing that could rouse him from his post-orgasmic stupor, and she knew it. He had settled in for that perfect, late-afternoon, warm-bed, after-sex nap when the smells hit him.
She was cooking.
Coffee first. He somehow missed the sound of the grinder, but the aroma of the first drops lured him from the bed.
Then butter. From the soft crackle, he knew she had the skillet warmed. He imagined the golden, silky pools melting on the hot surface.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he slipped around the corner to watch as she cracked eggs into the butter and added a handful of mushrooms.
His stomach growled.
She laughed, not turning. She was wearing a short Chinese silk robe, tied loosely around her waist. The robe just covered her wonderful ass. He moved behind her, stroking under the curve of her bottom. She giggled and shuddered, but spread her legs slightly, and his fingers pressed in further, teasing between her lips.
He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. He yanked the dangling end of the tie, and opened her robe. He brushed her ear with his lips and whispered, “Keep cooking, we don't want dinner to burn.”
She pressed back, grinding against him, but she didn't stop scrambling, didn't stop stirring. He watched chocolate melt in dark pools in the double-boiler.
“Do you want eggs first or your dessert?”
“Eggs, of course. Dessert after.”
“Too bad,” she said softly, turning to face him. She put her hand on his chest to push him back a step. As she spoke, she dipped the pastry brush in the warm, melted liquid and drew dark lines of chocolate over the tops of her breasts, circling her hard nipples. “Dessert is on me.”