I reached home late into the evening having bought provisions on the way. A bottle of Château Bon Prince was uncorked and breathed while I chopped onions, pressed garlic until it was finely minced, and selected the right pan for my dinner delight.
I connected my phone to a Bluetooth player and selected Chet Baker. Autumn Leaves is a great tune while cooking and enjoying wine. Few musicians can get a fart out of a trumpet but Chet could charm the birds from their nesting trees.
I heard a sound coming from outside and knew immediately that I had a guest. The house was a hundred yards from our main road and gravel scrunching on my driveway was an early warning.
When I peeked from a side window, I saw my car stationary outside, surprising me, so I popped back into the kitchen, turned off the gas stove, and went outside to investigate.
When I saw her she reminded me of my wife arriving home from work, radiant, warm, beautiful, and in need of a drink.
She strolled up my driveway, glancing this way and that, checking, approving somewhat of what little was revealed but not of every detail. A few frowns and one grimace at a garden gnome suggested we had mildly divergent tastes.
"Hi, Greg. This is a beautiful house."
"Thank you, Sarah... umm, this is twice in one lucky day. I wasn't expecting you this evening."
"Am I unwelcome in your home?"
"You will never be that."
"I'm teasing."
"To what do I owe the pleasant surprise?"
"I'm returning your car. It seems my insurance qualified me for a courtesy vehicle while the one you wrecked is in the repair shop."
She stood awkwardly, handing over my keys with a look of great appreciation, but didn't seem ready to walk away. I felt warmed by Sarah's presence which entranced me amply to stand like a fool, neither doing one thing nor another.
"Umm... I."
"Did I make things between us awkward, Greg? I'm so sorry. I'll hail a cab."
"Umm... no, don't do that... umm, fuck! Sorry!"
I squinted, hopped uselessly from one foot to the other, waved both arms into the house, then away from it remembering what night it was. Sarah smiled expectantly, prompting a choice to be made. I panicked, realizing my awkwardness, then laughed at my stupidity.
"I'm being so rude!"
"No, that’s not true. I wasn't expected. You must need privacy."
"I'm sorry Sarah... have you time to come in, please?"
"Yes, I'd love to."
She followed me into the kitchen, admiring the artwork, furniture, and ornaments along the way. A deliberately washed-out single-coat lemon color painted on bare concrete caught her attention and I noticed Sarah trail her fingertips along the coarse textured wall.
"American on the outside, Italian inside. That's a hard combination to pull off, Greg."
"I spent a few years living under the Tuscan sun. Do you like the house?"
"Very much."
"I built it myself. Well... I designed it and worked with contractors until every detail was perfect."
"It's enormous."
"Twelve bedrooms. I enjoy the library best of all."
In my vast kitchen diner, she twirled around slowly, taking in the masterpiece design of Italian architecture and expensive furnishings. Every watercolor, sketch, or painting was purchased by me from some piazza, market, or clearance shop in Italy.
"That's an enormous home with a definite purpose."
"I'm proud of my home. It's built on land bequeathed by grandparents and money from Mom and Dad supplementing my savings."
"Are your parents still alive?"
"Yes, and currently cruising the Mediterranean. I think tomorrow they arrive in Split, Croatia."
Sarah was intrigued by the deliberately and purposeful nooks and crannies stuffed with books, magazines, and bric-a-brac. I watched her explore freely for a few minutes, checking out Sarah's ass every time she bent over.
In the end, I had to stop looking or get her attention away from anything under waist height.
"I was cooking supper, will you join me?"
"Red wine... and is that arborio rice I see on the wooden chopping board?"
"It's going to be chicken risotto once I assemble everything. Shall I make two portions?"
"It looks like you already are doing. There are two glasses ready for the wine."
I hoped she wouldn't notice that it was a dinner for two but there was no fooling Sarah.
"Let me pour for us."
I picked up the bottle, my fingers trembled and the wine poured awkwardly. Sarah noticed and placed a steadying hand on mine. She looked kind, glancing at the two place settings.
"What's happening, Greg? Did I come at a bad time?"
"Not really although this evening is very difficult for me."
"Why?"
"It's my Wife's birthday. She passed away ten years ago, but tonight is special, so I cook for her too."
"Oh, I see."
"Please don't leave, Sarah. I'm not a tragic basket case and I don't feel melancholy, because she would come back and knock me on my ass if I were."
"I won't leave."
Sarah sat on the kitchen stool my departed wife once enjoyed. I turned and set about my task with gusto, pouring olive oil into a copper frying pan, heating it, then adding garlic and onions, before sauteing on medium heat. Sarah smiled almost gleefully while sipping wine, cross-legged, looking absolutely relaxed.
"Why are you so happy?"
"I'm glad I came over."
"Why?"
"A guy is cooking me dinner... fuck Greg, you have no idea how long I've waited for you to crash your car into mine."
"I'm glad I haven't scared you off."
"I'm sure your wife wouldn't want you wallowing in sadness so perhaps she would be pleased your car drove itself over here with no help from me."
"Lizzie was a very good woman."
"For sure, you don't have to convince me of that, Greg."
"How do you figure that?"
She swirled the wine in her glass, inhaling deeply, drawing life from the deep ruby nectar and savoring that while a story was revealed on her face. Sarah was a kitchen dilettante, just like me.
"Your wife obviously loved you dearly. You built this house but she dressed the inside with love for both of you."
"That's true. The pain of Lizzie's death is gone but I will always remember how much fun we had."
"I'd prefer that you did."
"This is the best room in the house, Sarah."
"Second best sweetie, and if things go well in our coming courtship, I look forward to discovering that."
I stirred consistently, added rice, then mixed that in before pouring a glass of white wine for added flavor. Sarah lifted an eyebrow, clearly impressed while grinning widely. Her eyes flashed everywhere, taking in cookbooks stacked on a rustic shelf, counting bottles of wine stored throughout, and checking off a list of every pan a Chef might need dangling from the ceiling.
"Did you keep the house out of respect for Lizzie?"
"No. I knew one day this house would be full of fun and laughter again. Children hopefully, mine or ones I acquire."
"You're sounding like a kidnapper now, Greg."
I shuffled inconspicuously around until standing in front of her, close enough to be reached, adequately far away to avoid seeming creepy or dangerous. Sarah's eyes were bright, sparkling and she swayed gently, cradling her wine in both hands, cupping an oversized glass bowl with its stem clenched between two fingers.
"I wasn't sure how to tell you about my life."
"That you were married and are now a widower?"
"Yes. It's not much of an icebreaker when enchanting a lady."
"Not so good as a traffic collision, that's for sure. Please don't write that on any insurance documents, by the way, Greg."
Sarah stared into my eyes and I noticed her passion for life. My risotto was simmering gently, so I added chicken stock and slivers of meat. I looked at Sarah, who cricked her neck, working out tightness.
"The risotto just needs time to absorb all the rich juices now."
"That's like the two of us, Greg."
"Does this all feel a bit intense to you?"
"It doesn't worry me at all, Greg. You had true love before and now having an interest in me is not an issue. I had a husband... sorry, an asshole husband."
"Are we good, then?"
"It depends on how well your risotto performs. You have an excellent taste in wine."
"In that case, it will be orgasmic."
"Speaking of which. Is it time for a first kiss, Greg?"
I wasn't expecting to progress so quickly from flirting to a kiss but I sensed Sarah needed that and I did too. I hesitated, she giggled, so I placed a wooden stirring spoon down, stepped in between her wide-open legs, and leaned close.
"Just a kiss, Sarah?"
"For now, yes. You have more wooing to do Greg. I feel it will be good for both of us."
"I agree."
I loved the way she never averted her eyes, leaning forwards, leaving me with slightly more than halfway of the gap to cover. My cock swelled to its maximum, for love, not lust or lewd desire. My breathing stopped until I remembered how to resume cardiovascular function.
Both my hands went cold as blood pumped to other parts. She clenched my fingers in hers, squeezing encouragingly as I felt desire grip every part of my soul.
Her lips felt like butter sizzling across a hot skillet while my mind exploded. Sarah's tongue sought mine with a tenderness I'd never felt. She paused, disengaged, leaned back an inch and tasted her lips, biting a bright red bottom lip while staring lovingly at me.
"I'm so glad you crashed into my car."
Her expression was such teasing fun, I couldn't stop laughing.
Sarah slipped her fingers from one hand through my hair, reaching around to the back of my head, gripping tightly before pulling me closer. This time, our lips collided with more explosive force than our cars had, her tongue felt desperate for mine, seeking confirmation that my affection for her was real.
Sarah's heels wrapped around my waist and she spurred my ass, grinding her pussy into my solid cock. It was a promise of things to come, like an anointment as our relationship passed from friendship to a few steps beyond but not yet to conclusively become lovers.
When she let go of me, Sarah sought validation which I guessed she got from my expression that rippled vigorously somewhere between love, lust, and the thrill of chasing a beautiful woman.
"That was nice, Greg. I hope it felt like progress to you. A reward for your bravery and inventiveness."
"I think we should stop."
"Why would you not sample more?"
"Because the damn risotto will stick to the pan and burn."
She laughed and released me but I saw a wild spirit dancing in her eyes that didn't want to let go. I returned to the cooker, pleased she followed me, collecting my wine, and sipping hers before placing both down and cuddling into my back, wrapping both arms around my waist.
"Do you want a girlfriend, Greg?"
"I really want a relationship with you and harbored that feeling for some time."
"Are you sure? I can frequently be hard work. I like a strong man who can love and be a partner with me. I made a mistake the first time around but still ended up with two wonderful children."
"Do you want more children, Sarah?"
"Do you want a family, Greg?"
"Yes, but that must include Alice and Jack."
"Then yes, I'd like to have more children and find someone with whom I grow together."
I stirred the risotto, tasting one grain of rice, pleased it was perfect, tasty with a slight crunch. I lifted a teaspoon, scooped a small taster, and offered it to Sarah. She blew air across the creamy rice, then tasted it, frowning and whimpering with delight.
"Oh, my... that's perfect."
"Not quite. I'll let it sit covered for a minute off the heat to make sure it lifts perfectly."
"Time creates a wonderful bounty in many things, Greg."
"Indeed, it does."
I turned fully around, excited that Sarah didn't withdraw her arms or step backward. She shimmered as a wave of contentment surged through her. We didn't kiss, but I sensed she wanted to.
"I'm looking forward to our date tomorrow night, Sarah."
"I don't think anything will beat that risotto."
"What did you mean by growing together?"
"Shall we sit down and discuss?"
We held hands and I led Sarah to the dining table where she sat beside me, turning around so we could face each other.
"I need a strong man, Greg."
"You already said that."
"Because I can be willful. You witnessed that at the scene of our collision."
"Ah, I see."
"Do you?"
"I think so."
The air dripped with sexual tension and her expression held the most provocative come-to-bed eyes I ever saw. She exuded sensuality in a most exquisite way.
"You've activated my sexuality with kindness and respect, Greg."
"I will always do that."
"I enjoy being revered and loved intensely."
"What are you saying, Sarah? There is an underlying message here, something you don't want to say. Are you afraid?"
"Yes. Hold me please."
I hugged her and felt a trembling vulnerability. Her nipples were solid, pressing hard into my chest, almost like two buttons that wanted to be pushed.
"Sometimes I must be taken in hand, Greg."
"I thought as much, sweetheart. Don't worry, you're safe with me."
Next Chapter:
Hi reader,
I worry about many things all of the time. It’s an awful hereditary affliction. My Mom is the same. I’m also an over-thinker, taking that trait from my Dad.
Not a great combo!
I’m worried about how you are getting on with finding the content you most enjoy.
If you are using the phone application, you may be missing out. The Substack online portal has menu choices at the top, showing series and categories for the 450+ stories I have published.
I sense many of you enjoy romance mixed with erotica. A series you may have missed is Carla’s Adventure, linked below. The first season is a thirteen-episode plunge into the world of Carla, a New York Chef following her father’s footsteps.
The series is mostly a steamy romance adventure with some intense erotica in parts. I hope you’ll try it if you haven’t already.
Thank you.
Kate
Thanks from me too Kate. You are clearly a remarkably talented woman, with great writing skill and a wealth of knowledge about other things too. You can create such a variety in your different stories, all of which I love. So,have no doubts about your ability.
Beautifully written Kate, the dance between lust and love is so exciting! “Her lips felt like butter sizzling across a hot skillet while my mind exploded” the fire between two people on a future sojourn, is what dreams are made for!