Your cock is beautiful – 32

This was almost the exact description on the website I’d gotten the sauce recipe from. It really was incredible, by the way, better than any of the many varieties I’d tried from the supermarket. I could never figure out why the cooking blog I’d found it on wasn’t more popular.

“Oh wow,” she said laughing, “That sounds amazing!”

“Yeah, it really is.” I said, finally smiling.

“You should think about cooking again.” she said, “I miss trying out your more… experimental dishes.”

“Maybe I will.” I said.

“And… you used to play guitar too, what happened to that?” she asked.

“Wow.” I said, “What brought that up?”

It had been years since I’d even touched a guitar.

“I was just thinking about it.” she said, “You played, like, every single day for a while.”

“I used to do a lot of things.” I said, “I just get bored, I guess.”

“You were getting good.” she said.

“Always getting good, never actually good.” I joked lightly.

“You could play a whole bunch of songs…” she continued absently.

A memory twitched to the front of my mind from nowhere. I’d been into guitar when I was maybe 12 or 13. I had learned a lot of songs, but at some point Stella had decided that she didn’t like the sound of guitar. She’d scream at me when I tried to play, or sing over me in an off-key wail just to annoy me. It was when she started barging into my room to demand I stop, because she could apparently hear it from downstairs, that I gave up trying.

I sighed, trying to suppress the long forgotten annoyance. My life was filled with things like that, a thousand little ways that Stella would make my life just that tiny bit darker.

But to be fair to her, I was never going to be a rockstar. Before guitar it was skateboarding, and afterwards I think it was the telescope and long nights trying to make out stars through the light pollution. I had a habit of getting really interested in something for a few months before dropping it.

It was like I would find a point where I was decent, good enough to play a few songs perfectly or cook a few perfect meals, then just stop. The mid-point between being a complete novice and being an expert. The problem was that it wasn’t hard to get good, but it took years of dedication to be amazing. And there was just always something more interesting to explore.

I still had that habit. Even the camera I’d gotten as a gift for Christmas was because I’d had a few conversations with my aunt about photography, which I’d been interested in up until just before last Summer.

“Fuuuck!” Mia shouted suddenly, “Talking about that steak made me hungry! How long do you think she’s going to be?”

“Hopefully not too long.” I said, realizing that we’d only eaten a few snacks since breakfast.

It wasn’t too long, and soon we were at the table with an aproned Stella serving us our meal. The talking stopped abruptly as three hungry teenagers tore into their food.

“Meat’s a little dry.” said Mia off-handedly a few minutes in.

Stella glanced at me, worried, as if she cared more about what I thought. It was a little dry, but I was trying to be polite. I just smiled at her and kept eating.

“You cook it next time, then.” Stella told Mia.

“I will.” Mia answered “And it’ll be awesome. And then Steven can make his perfect steaks, right?”

“Perfect steaks?” asked Stella, picking up the exaggerated tone.

I just rolled my eyes at them.

“I’m not sure you could handle my steaks.” I said, “It would ruin all other meat for you.”

They laughed, and kept eating.

Dinner was over quickly, and no sooner had Mia laid down her knife and fork than she jumped up and announced she was leaving.

“Got to go, losers.” she said jokingly, walking into the hall.

“You’re just running out again?” Stella called out to the hall, “Not staying for dessert?”

Mia, now wearing her jacket, stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Nope, I’m already late.” she said, smiling.

“Good, ‘cus there’s actually no dessert.” Stella said.

Mia laughed, and blew Stella a kiss. She winked at me, then walked out to the front door. Just like yesterday, Stella and I sat in a silence punctuated only by the sound of Mia driving away.

“Wow, she got out of here in a hurry.” Stella said, standing up to clear the table.

“She’s just nervous.” I said, “I haven’t quite mastered a subtle way to leave yet.”

“Nervous?” Stella asked. “About what?”

“Yeah, she’s obviously nervous. She blew you a kiss for God’s sake, has she ever done that before?” I said. “She’s not confident about this plan, leaving the two of us. She thinks there’s a chance it could backfire, and we would end up at each other’s throats again. She’d been considering just staying for a while, in fact I don’t think she planned to stay for dinner…”

I was just thinking aloud, trying to work through the impressions she’d given me.

“Did she tell you that?” Stella asked.

“No, it’s just… I don’t know, a feeling. You didn’t notice?” I asked.

Stella shrugged. She’d finished cleaning the dishes, and she’d moved to stand beside the table. I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about Mia any more.

“I’ll be right back.” she said.

“Ok.” I said, standing up.

“No!” she said, “Just… wait right there. Wait right there.”

“…Ok?” I said.

I sat back down and waited. She bolted upstairs and came back about ten minutes later.

She’d dressed up for me.

She was wearing something I’d never seen before, a yellow piece of lingerie that I would later learn is called a “babydoll”, a thin gown that left virtually nothing to the imagination. It was similar to the black one she’d worn on our first night after New Year’s, but this one was frillier, and obviously much brighter. She’d put on more makeup too, her eyes lightly shadowed with purple and her lips dark and full. She was wearing matching yellow panties, and her toenails were painted to match, as always.

“You look…nice.” I said, understating just how rock hard I’d become in the few seconds I’d taken to study her.

“Thanks.” she said.

“So I guess it’s just the two of us.” I said innocently. “What do you think we should do?”

“Whatever you want.” she answered.

“Good answer.” I smiled.

She took a step towards me, but I suddenly didn’t feel like standing.

“Get on your knees.” I ordered gently.

She obeyed right away, gracefully sinking to the floor.

“Come on.” I said lightly, tapping my thigh. Calling her like she was a dog.

She looked embarrassed, but crawled under the table anyway. She got in front of me and just waited.

“Take it out.” I said.

“Yes Sir.” she said, and slid both hands up my inner thighs.

She unzipped me and pulled out my hard cock, holding it with both hands. It was a little strange, not being able to look down at her while she touched me, seeing only the table. Kind of a waste of the new outfit, I thought.

I could feel her hot breath against my cock, but she didn’t try to lick me. I realized she was waiting for me to order it, but was so eager to begin that her mouth was only an inch away from me.

“Suck it.”

I suddenly felt her tongue swirling around the head before she took it into her mouth. I sighed with pleasure, leaning back into my chair. She was limited by her position, and the fact that she couldn’t access my balls from inside my jeans, but she still tried her best.