Chocolaty Goodness, Excerpt #3.

Beauty and the Feast

Gabe sat in his kitchen, alone. He’d read Eva’s note several times, tracing the neat printing with his fingertips, as if her handwriting might give him some clue as to the kind of woman she was. Her note was brief and professional and left him entirely in the dark as to her character.

Gabe followed the instructions to the letter, serving himself each course in the order she’d intended him to serve it to his guest. He started with the chilled melon soup in a martini glass, garnished with a sprig of his own spearmint. God, it was cold, fresh, not too sweet. The perfect opening course for a meal. He swore he could taste some Riesling in it, but it wasn’t a wine he recognized from his collection. Eva must have brought it. He searched through the fridge and he found most of a half-bottle of an expensive German wine. Gabe ignored the Chardonnay she’d selected, one of his own, and instead poured himself a glass of the Riesling and sipped appreciatively while he considered her next course. It was a salad course.

Eva had artfully arranged her offerings on a narrow, lightweight bamboo plank.
On one end of the plank, she’d placed a small salad of tiny spring radishes. The radishes had been sliced paper-thin. They were almost transparent, and they’d been sprinkled with fresh chives, also from his herb garden and sea salt. At the other end was a tiny pile of bitter micro-greens, topped with a few snips of Italian parsley and cilantro. Eva must have toured his entire property. Gabe wondered if Luis showed her where to find everything or if she discovered them on her own. He was willing to bet she’d found them on her own, like the strawberries she’d left at his bedside.

In the center of the plank, she’d molded finely minced, bright red, wild salmon tartar. Nothing added. It glistened in the light from the candle he’d lit. On one side of the salmon sat a small pile of delicate pink flakes. Gabe dipped his finger into the pile, brought it to his mouth and licked it. Salt. Some kind of pink salt. On the other side, she’d mounded coarsely cracked black pepper. He picked up a tiny white ceramic pitcher and sniffed. Toasted black sesame oil, ginger, and rice wine vinegar. Gabe’s mouth watered. He wished he had someone to share this meal with, but he was glad he’d taken Stephanie home.

He picked up the small fork and took a taste of the salmon. The mouth feel was smooth, soft. Gabe savored it. The salmon tartar felt exactly like a woman, like he was tonguing a woman. The same sweet salt, the same tenderness. It seemed to him as if he was tasting Eva. He found himself growing erect and his swollen cock pressed uncomfortably against his zipper.

Gabe stood up and stretched. He grabbed his glass of wine and stepped out onto the patio. The sun had set an hour before. The night was cool, as nights tended to be in the hills above the valley. He wanted to finish everything she’d prepared for him, but he didn’t know if he could stand it. One more bite and he might come in his pants. Gabe laughed out loud. He wanted to meet this mysterious Eva, but there were so many ‘ifs’, the biggest ‘if’ being, what if she was nothing at all like he imagined.

Gabe listened to the night noises for a few minutes before he returned to the kitchen and his dinner. He finished the salad course and found the herb sorbet she’d left for him in the freezer. It was intended as a palate cleanser. Lemon balm. She’d used the lemon balm from his garden.

The main course, accompanied by a spicy Zinfandel, consisted of a miniature filet mignon, cooked to perfection, seared on the outside, juicy and bright pink on the inside. Eva had sliced it thin. The meat melted like butter in his mouth. He dipped one piece in the wasabi cream Eva had provided. The bite of the wasabi was nice, without the unpleasant searing sensation of true horseradish. She’d accompanied the steak by equally miniature new potatoes, oven-roasted in olive oil with fresh rosemary and thyme, and bright green asparagus spears, steamed until they were just tender-crisp. Gabe ate them with his fingers. He took a break before he tackled the cheese course. His interest in Eva Raines had once again grown in direct proportion to the size of his erection, the erection induced by the images tasting her food brought to mind.

Gabe shook his head. This was a first. Food meant a great deal to him because going hungry as a child had meant something. Listening to his little sister’s stomach growl on the bus to school because they’d had nothing to eat for breakfast that morning or supper the night before meant something. Watching his mother sacrifice so she could scrape together enough money to feed her two children meant something.

Over the past ten years, Gabe had come to appreciate a fine meal as much as the next man, maybe more because he’d been deprived as a child, and because by necessity he’d taught himself how to pair his wines with food. But he’d never experienced this sort of physical reaction to anything he’d put in his mouth, aside from a woman, that is. Only a woman, the right woman, tasted this good.

Eva had scattered fresh fruit casually across the cheese tray. Cherries, raspberries, plump California blackberries. She’d poached fresh peaches in what tasted like a lemony, sugar syrup, peeled them, sliced them, and spread the slices neatly on the tray. The slices were gold as a harvest moon. Gabe ignored the utensils and used his fingers to eat his fill of the fruit, licking the sticky, sweet syrup from his fingertips. Finally he pushed the tray away, completely sated.

Gabe stretched his arms over his head and leaned back. He closed his eyes. That was the most sensuous meal he’d ever eaten. He’d heard his assistant comment that food could be as good as sex, but he’d never before believed it. Eva’s food was foreplay, pure and simple. It was a build up to orgasm. She’d intended sex to be the dessert. The sweets she’d left in his bedroom were for drizzling on someone… on Stephanie. The only person Gabe could imagine drizzling them on was Eva herself.

He wanted to drip warm chocolate into the hollow of her throat. Between her breasts. He wanted to watch himself pour caramel over her nipples, swirl it around them with his fingertips and then suck it off. He wanted to slowly trickle both down her belly, all the way down, to her clit. He would pour the warm toppings over her and he would bury his face in her pussy and lick her until she begged him to stop.
Eyes still closed, Gabe brought a hand forward and ran his palm down the front of his jeans. Jesus Christ. If her food could make him this hard…

***What was the first course Eva prepared for Gabe?

Remember to leave your email address with your answer and feel free to answer any questions this week. I’ll announce the winners on Valentine’s Day.

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