Tasting Pleasure (12 page)

Alicia smiled with relief. She had worried about pleasing a complete stranger. Over the last few weeks, she had realized that her greatest pleasure came from giving joy to others. Totally focusing on the needs of her partner was liberating. Still, despite her attraction to Paul, she had no idea what his expectations were. His words eased her mind and some of her shyness.

“In that case, Paul, why don’t you change into something more comfortable and relax while I prepare you a cocktail? What would you like?”

“A gin and tonic, please. And whatever you’d like for yourself.” He kissed her cheek then walked down the hallway.

Alicia hummed to herself as she prepared the drinks—a gin and tonic for him and an Irish whiskey straight for her. That was easy enough. When Paul came back into the combination kitchen and dining room area wearing tight jeans and a white T-shirt, she silently handed him the tall glass. Knowing it was rude to stare, Alicia tried to avert her eyes from the man’s incredible body. Hopefully he didn’t notice that her mouth had dropped open in pure appreciation of his physique.

“Please,” she began, “won’t you be seated so I can serve you dinner?”

“You will be joining me, won’t you?” he asked, eyeing her breasts over the edge of his glass.

“If you like,” she said. “Tonight, as you know, I will do anything, everything you ask.”

“In that case, you will definitely be joining me,” he answered, reaching to tweak a nipple as he seated himself.

Alicia laughed and found she was beginning to enjoy dining in the buff.

She glowed with pleasure throughout the meal as she watched Paul’s expression while he devoured her food. At one point he actually moaned after tasting the apple-bourbon cake she served for dessert. When they finished the meal, Alicia stood and began to clear the table.

“No”—Paul interrupted her work—“you cooked. I’ll clean up.”

“But—” she began.

“No buts. Tonight you do whatever I say. Right?”

“Right,” she hesitated.

“I actually like cleaning up. Why don’t you find your way to the bedroom and turn on the stereo. Find something you like. Relax a bit.” He ran his hand down her arm. “I think a little rest now will be quite beneficial later.”

Alicia smiled in return and nodded. Feeling brave, she stood on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Paul patted her behind and gently turned her in the direction of the bedroom.
What an incredible man!
While she truly didn’t mind the clean-up stage of cooking, it wasn’t exactly her favorite chore. Besides, she would welcome the chance to get off her feet for a few minutes.

When she arrived in Paul’s bedroom, she was again struck by the dynamic hues. Rather than a stormy scene, though, the colors splashed against the walls and ceiling in this room radiated excitement. Brilliant reds merged into burnt orange, flecks of gold sparkled with life. Jagged pieces of mirrored glass mounted to the walls reflected every movement, every nuance. The thick, white carpet covering the floor invited bare feet—or bodies—to indulge in its softness. Gold sconces cradling unlit tea-light candles lined the walls in an asymmetrical pattern. Dominating the room was a large, king-sized bed filled with fluffy pillows and inviting quilts. The room was designed with sex in mind.

Alicia picked up a box of matches and began to light the candles. The room glowed with warmth and a faint scent of lavender brushed the air. She smiled in satisfaction as she flipped through the CDs lining a shelf opposite the bed. Finally settling on some smooth jazz, Alicia loaded the CD player and climbed onto the bed. Within minutes she had snuggled into the cushions and drifted off to sleep.

“You looked too peaceful to disturb,” he said some time later, handing her a glass of wine.

“I’m sorry,” Alicia stammered. “I should have heard you come in and been ready for you.”
Damn!
She should never have allowed herself to relax so completely!

Paul laughed. “No way! Not with the padding and plush carpets. Besides, I like to look at beautiful things, and that would certainly be you. As I said before,” he continued, taking a sip of wine and sitting on the edge of the bed, “we’ll just see where the evening leads us. Stop trying so hard to please me. You already do.”

Alicia sipped her wine, giving herself time to digest this information. With Jeffrey, it seemed that she could never please him—little wonder considering he was gay. Maverick, on the other hand, issued commands, so she knew exactly what his expectations were. Now, though, she was without direction.

“I know this may sound odd,” she began, “but unless you give me some instruction, I just don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, let me be direct then,” he stated.

“Yes, please,” Alicia said, relieved.

“You have the loveliest breasts I have ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a few! I’m what you would call a tit man—Maverick, I’m sure, remembered this when he chose your outfit.
I want to touch them, lick them.” He set down his glass of wine and held both her breasts in his hands. “I want to kiss them, suck on the nipples.” He placed a quick kiss on the valley between her luscious globes.

Alicia caught her breath in her throat.

“I want to paint their image onto my mind, capture their texture, their taste, their warmth.” He punctuated his words with kisses surrounding the base of each breast.

Alicia dropped her head back against the pillows and nearly spilled the glass. Paul took it from her and held it above her right nipple. Slowly he dripped the red wine onto the bud, licking the merlot from her skin, seeming not to care if scarlet liquid stained his beautiful bedding. Alicia squirmed beneath the onslaught, arching her back, craving more.

“You are delightful,” he whispered before capturing her left nipple with his teeth and giving it a gentle tug. He wrapped his tongue around the nub, teasing it into erectness.

Alicia moaned with pleasure. His strong hand gently caressed the other breast, his fingers twisting her right nipple. The combination of his warm, soft mouth on one side and his cool, hard fingers on the other drove Alicia to distraction. Crying out, she buried her fingers in his hair and shivered her release. How could this man cause her to come just by playing with her tits? That was a new, not to mention wonderful, experience.

Paul raised his head and grinned at her.

“You see, Alicia, no need for instruction, just lie back and enjoy yourself,” he said.

Panting, Alicia simply nodded.

“Do you know,” he continued, “what a pleasure it is to attend to a beautiful woman?” He reached beneath her and untied the apron. Carelessly he dropped it to the ground. “Do you know—I suppose you do, though—what a thrill it is to watch another person melt under your hands?” He trailed kisses down her stomach, his hands gliding over her hips.

“Yes,” Alicia whispered. “I do.”

“Here is my command, then.”

“Anything.”

“Enjoy.” Paul dipped his head between her thighs and, spreading her nether lips with his fingers, flicked the tip of her clit with his tongue.

Alicia jumped and shockwaves of pleasure coursed through her. Paul continued to attack her clit, poking and prodding with his mouth and tongue until it filled with blood and stood erect. Then he drew it into his mouth as if it were a tiny penis and sucked. Alicia lifted her hips to meet his mouth, clawing at the brocade covers on the bed. She cried out again when Paul inserted two fingers into her pussy, pulsing them in rhythm with his mouth. Using his other hand, he began to rub and tease her anus, dipping a third finger into her pussy, gathering wetness, then with exquisite slowness, inserting it deep into her rectum. Alicia’s breath came in short gasps as she bucked against Paul’s mouth.

“No!” she called as he pulled out his fingers, and she suddenly sat up. She reached out for him, bereft at the loss of his touch.

“Yes!” he responded, grasping her hips and impaling her on his rod.

Alicia threw her head back, clenching her muscles around his manhood. Paul thrust into her, again and again. Lifting her legs to his shoulders, he leaned over her, nearly bending her in half, and pulled a nipple into his mouth.

“Oh, God!” she called out. She was sure the depth of him within her would split her apart, but what a way to go! Feeling her body quiver, Alicia dug her hands into Paul’s tight, hard arse, pulling him in even deeper. Trying desperately to hold off her own final pleasure, Alicia squeezed her eyes shut. Suddenly Paul released her nipple and buried his head in her shoulder, his body shuddering. Alicia, feeling the cheeks beneath her hands become rock hard, opened her eyes and cried out again, the colors of the room melting into the colors of her mind as the orgasm crashed over them both.

Afterward, they simply lay in each other’s arms, trying to catch their breath.

“You poor girl,” Paul said, rolling off her, “I must have crushed you.”

“You did,” Alicia smiled. “It was wonderful.”

Paul laughed and pulled her to him. She rested her head against his shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Eight

Cheesy Hash Browns

2 large russet potatoes

2 strips bacon cut into pieces

1 Tablespoon butter

1/2 cup milk

1/3 cup Parmesan cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Wash and scrub potatoes, leaving skins on. Grate. Squeeze out excess moisture from potatoes. In a cast iron skillet, fry bacon pieces until translucent. Add potatoes and fry until they begin to brown. Add butter, milk and cheese, stirring to prevent clumping or burning. Season with salt and pepper.

“So what are your plans for the day?” Paul asked the next morning.

“Actually, I don’t have any. Tomorrow I’ll need to do some marketing and cooking for another client, but today I’m open,” Alicia responded while flipping an egg.

Alicia had slept for two hours the night before then awoke to a nibble on her breast. Apparently Paul recovered quickly, because twice more during the night they had made love. Finally exhausted, both Paul and Alicia had slept in the next morning. Now, dressed in one of Paul’s T-shirts, Alicia was preparing breakfast, American style—fried eggs, a slice of ham, hash brown potatoes and sourdough toast. The slight ache between her thighs reminded Alicia of Paul’s virility. Secretly, she hoped he would take her at least once more before dismissing her. At the moment, though, Alicia grinned, noticing he was already salivating, his mind clearly on food.

“In that case, why not spend the day with me?” he offered.

“That would be fabulous, Paul. I’d like that.” Alicia smiled as she set the plate of food in front of him, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes widened and his jaw dropped at the sight of breakfast.

Quickly, he picked up his knife and fork and began shoveling the hot food into his mouth.

“Holy Christ!” he said between mouthfuls, “this is heavenly!”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Alicia answered as she daintily cut a bite of ham.

“I usually get by with a piece of toast and some tea. Anyway,” Paul continued, “I’ve a bit of shopping to do and thought you might enjoy an outing. Besides, I’d like to give you something—a remembrance of our time together.”

Alicia dropped her fork and stared at him.

“What?” Paul asked, frowning in obvious confusion.

“I’m not a whore, Paul. You don’t have to pay me,” she said quietly, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

“What?” he questioned again. Then, “Oh, Oh!” as he apparently finally understood the insult he had just delivered. “No, Alicia, I didn’t mean it like that!” He too dropped his fork and held her hand.

Alicia, looking directly into his eyes, saw true remorse.

“Sometimes when I say things, they just don’t come out right. I never thought of you as a whore—never will! It’s just that last night— Well, it was special for me.” He looked down and seemed to stumble for words.

“It was for me too, Paul,” Alicia said, trying to fill in the awkward silence.

“Please, just come with me. You’ll understand. I guess I’m asking you to trust me, forgive me too. Truly, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

How could she resist that?

“Sure, I’ll go with you. But on one condition,” she added.

“You got it.”

“You clean up again while I bathe.”

Paul laughed and kissed her hand before grabbing his fork again. “Done!”

* * * *

A few hours later, after Alicia had helped Paul select a gift for his mother—a beautiful hand-painted silk scarf—she and Paul entered a small gallery. Alicia turned in a circle, eyes wide, mesmerized by the explosion of color and texture.

“Oh, Paul,” she murmured, “your work is incredible.”

“Glad you like it.” He smiled. “I’ll be right back.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head and walked into the back room. Alicia slowly made her way around the gallery, shaking her head in amazement. How could he come up with the ideas for these breathtaking paintings?

“Here we are,” Paul announced, obviously holding something behind his back. “This is what I wanted to give you. I painted it a few months ago. For some reason, though, I didn’t want to display it. It was almost as if I was…well, called to create this.”

Alicia cocked her head and began to fiddle with her braid, unsure of what to say.

“Anyway,” he continued, “after meeting you, I know why I had to paint it.”

“Why is that?” she asked quietly.

“Because I dreamed of you.” He pulled the small, framed painting from behind his back.

Soft lavender melted into sea-green waves then crashed against each other, creating a tidal wave of deep purple lined with magenta and culminating in dark forest greens. Alicia was speechless.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” he asked, frowning.

“How did you know?” she wondered, bringing her hand up to her chest.

“Know what?”

“When I come.”

“What?”

“When I come,” Alicia said, tears springing to her eyes. “That’s what I see—the colors. I see beautiful colors. And when it’s good—really good, like last night—the colors are vibrant purples and greens! How did you know?”