Loading...We’ve always liked to use food to enhance our sex ever since we read “Like Water for Chocolate” and that book by Marquez where the wacky dictator puts asparagus into the vaginas of the local towns women. I think that is actually where we got the idea from, sophomore year of college literature class. We passed notes back and forth to each other describing what we were going to eat off of one another and how we would become human sundaes. Jesus we ruined a lot of bed sheets back then. Now we just rip the shower curtain off the rod when we feel like human sundaes.
We were both excited to hear from the Starr Report that Bill Clinton got freaky in the Oval Office just like the wacky dictator in the Marquez book; Clinton just substituted cigars for asparagus. Jenny and I scanned the report for anything good to try, no new food, just some kink.
Our food fucks (as we began to call them) got more elaborate as we got older. We were no longer satisfied with just busting open the Hershey’s syrup and having at it. They began to evolve. Preparation of a meal began to play a larger part.
Foreplay begins at the supermarket. We like to go to the market across town. It’s a touch out of the way but there they always have samples and better quality produce. We go there and play silly pass the grape games, eat mango slices out of each others mouths, lick pineapple juice off of each other and gobble down as many samples as we can. The foreplay begins hours before the table is even set.
After the market trip we come home and change. We went out bought some real chef pants and shirts so we don’t stain our clothes. So far we haven’t gotten any reactions to out fetish wear from our family and friends; we tend to avoid the phone and the answering the door on our fetish days. Jenny never wears a bra under her shirt when we cook, she says it’s one less thing to get stained when I come at her with tomato covered hands.
During the preparation of dinner, I think, is when the best sex occurs. Jenny disagrees; but then again I like the sloppy messy stuff. When we first started going out Jenny had to “teach” me how to kiss. She complained too much saliva and said that I “kissed like a licking dog”. We would lay in bed and she would say to me “kiss me like you mean it”. I would launch at her with my tongue out , she would put her face in the pillow and laugh. Eventually she got me to keep my tongue in my mouth at least for a few seconds. I still attack her like a licking dog every once in a while.
The preparation continues our foreplay; I have actually seen my wife’s nipples dilate while I have been chopping up vegetables. She says it’s the blending of colors, the flashing of the knife, and the danger involved. Finishing up the prep work is usually where our first sex episode comes in. We’ll have been simmering in our lust sense the market trip; our hands covered in sauces, oils and juices, our mouths swimming in various flavors of bites we’ve stolen. During sex our hands leave little flavors all over each others bodies for us to discover later.
Hot peppers are the best sex food. We know to cancel all plans the next day if one of us throws a bag of peppers into the shopping cart. (you see) The oils of the peppers never really wash off your hands no matter how many times you wash them. We discovered this quite by accident one day when I made some “three alarm” chili for a superbowl party and had the oils of seratto pepper all over my hands.
Jenny’s prettier uniformed New England Patriots were losing and she was in need of some attention, so we slid off to the back bedroom. My hands coated in pepper oil went mostly unnoticed until I found her clitoris. Then the beta compounds from the peppers began to give off a warm feeling on her sensitive parts. It didn’t take long for us to figure out what was going on as the heat increased. Jenny moved my hand deeper taking the heat from her cilt to up inside of her. Jenny had orgasms like Hiroshima as she rode my hot pepper oiled hand pushing it further into her spasming pussy.
At the same moment Jenny was pushing me onto the bed and mounting up like a cowgirl, Mike Prior defensive back for the Green Bay Packers was picking off a pass from Jenny’s better uniformed Patriot quarterback. By the time the commercial break was over the beta compounds were working their magic on my sensitive parts. Six minuets and four seconds later as Bret Farve was diving head first into the endzone for the touchdown, I gave one last thrust with my hot pepper cock into Jenny bringing our pelvic bones together. The cheers of the Packer fans almost droned out our pepper induced orgasmic yelps. The sensation of the oils stayed with us for hours keeping us horny well into the next morning.
Discipline is what we have learned while we have gotten older. In college we burned a lot of food, ruined a lot of pots and pans and damn near burned down an apartment complex all while fucking covered in food in the bedroom. We have learned that we have all day to do this. We can boil in our passion along with the soup. We have learned the art of the all day fuck. Discipline, knowing that as Jenny cuts the buttons off my shirt, the soup is on, the lamb was just put back in to the oven reasoned, and we still have a cake to bake. discipline, knowing no matter how freaky Jenny gets with the fresh rosemary (as the buttons from my shirt hit the floor) there’s still a lot more fucking to do.
We usually opt for a nap sometime in the afternoon, sleeping off the wine that we consume after the knives are more or less put away. We try to stay in bed no longer than an hour. The smells coming from the kitchen fueling us , reminding us of the task still at hand. We usually decide on desert in bed. We have learned to keep dessert light. We learned that a few years ago. While it is fun to eat double mocha chocolate cheesecake off of each other, it’s much like that adage about not going into the pool right after you have eaten, you’re going to cramp up and drown. We have learned that if you eat a heavy dessert and have at it on the dining room table you are going to cramp up and bring things to an anti-climatic ending. We like to use whipping cream in our desserts. That’s Jenny’s perfect confection. She likes to experiment with different flavors in the whipping cream. Our favorite is Kiwi, it makes the cream tangy and you can’t beat the green color.
In the early days we liked to get all dressed up in our best clothing. But the dry cleaning bills became formidable. We then tried casual, but that seemed a little silly under candle light. Now we just dine naked. We like to set the table as formal according to the Boston School of Cooking definition of formal. We do like to keep a few pairs of chopsticks around. We’ve found that they are the best for picking up specific items and delicately depositing them in your partners mouth. But nothing beats eating with your fingers. Our Nagouchi Coffee Table is our preferred dining table. Purchased specifically for our “food fucks”, it’s low enough we can lounge around it and the glass top gives us clear view of each other as we dine in the nude. Once dinner is pulled from the oven we throw some pillows around the table, dim the lights, turn the heat up and strip.
Dinner is always a gastronomic extravaganza but every once in a while we sleep to long and we have to call for take-out, however, that has become very rare. Never have we finished all of the food we prepare, there are always leftovers for a few days, but somehow we always leave room for dessert which is shared while we give each other massages. We still haven’t gotten over our habit of breaking things, but we usually expect some casualties.
Shoving the remains from our dessert onto the floor I reach my hands into the bowl of strawberries, take out a handful and press it into Jenny’s naked body running it up from her hips ending by sticking my fingers into her mouth. Which is quickly followed by my tongue. Filling my hands with the blueberry puree I coat the insides of my wife’s thighs with the cool fragrant mixture. Laying back onto the coffee table Jenny wraps a leg around my waist and pulls me tight between her thighs, covering me in puree also. With her hand full of whipping cream Jenny begins to gently stroke my penis as I cover her body with cut up strawberries.
I begin to pluck the strawberries off her stomach and replace them with little nibbles. Spreading Jenny’s legs I begin to lick the blueberry puree from her thighs and move closer to the strawberry that Jenny is holding in her vaginas for me. I gently run my tongue along the outside of her vagina and flick my tongue at the strawberry. Running her hands through my hair, Jenny tells me, “I’m gonna have to try harder than that”. Repositioning myself as Jenny puts her legs over my shoulders I lick her from her anus up to where she is holding the strawberry and push it in a little deeper. I gently swirl my tongue over her clit
Moving Jenny to a medium boil with my tongue I reach down and pluck the strawberry out of her with my teeth and smash it letting the juice and chocolate spill everywhere. Feeling the urgency Jenny reaches down with a hand coated in whipping cream to guide me into her. Pushing into her, I fall forward and give her a very wet chocolate-strawberry flavored kiss as the juice runs down my chin. Jenny holds me tight as our bodies rock in unison atop our table.
Clean up is always left until the next day, Jenny likes to survey the damage and have little memories of our sex smorgasbord as we clean up and attack the mound of dishes in the sink. We have come a long way sense our Hershey’s syrup days and asparagus dipping dictators in books but Jenny and I still manage to bring each other to new orgasmic heights with just the most basic of ingredients.