Page 17 of If I Had More Time

“You have no idea. You would think being a chef was easy to handle but celebrities really don’t know what they want and will change the menu like they change they draws. They keep me on my toes, though.”

“Who’s the most indecisive client?”

“Oh, Jermaine Dupri for sure. He settles on one thing and by the time I’m heading his way, he’s called me at least three times with something new. It’s frustrating at times but when he kicks out twenty grand per event, I can’t complain.”

Nodding, I realized Alex was the bread winner in his marriage. I assumed him being a chef made him good money, but his response solidified my assumptions. Being a celebrity chef more than likely meant he was always on the go and had no time for Simone. I would hate to be in her shoes.

I was very much used to being spoiled and Tristan’s center of attention. I was able to access him whenever I wanted and didn’t have to wait until his flight landed to do so. I felt bad for Simone. Every woman deserved to be a wife, and every wife deserved to be a man’s top priority. It would drive me insane waiting for my love days at a time to return home.

“How long are your trips usually?”

“Maybe three days out the week. Sometimes they’re longer due to the bookings.” There’s someone for everybody and clearly, she liked it so…

“Do you love it? Being a chef, I mean.”

“I do. I was forced to cook and fend for myself when I was younger, and I just started doing shit in the kitchen. Creating fancy shit out of struggle meals was a skill of mine. I took my only skill and put a price on it. I’m getting paid what I ask for without negotiation being involved and that’s all I wanted.”

“That’s dope for real. Make something out of nothing and shine. Keep doing your thing, love,” I said genuinely proud that he took a struggle and capitalized off it. Most folk drown in the struggle and never make it to the surface.

“You never told me about you. What is it you do?”

“I’m a simple woman working as a librarian,” I lied.

Alex wasn’t someone I needed to share my life story with. When me and Tristan started this thing, I was a librarian, and hewas a stockbroker. We never strayed from our false occupations and kept the discussion brief. Our anniversary wasn’t about sharing backgrounds and anything else that sparked their curiosity. We were here for a limited time and no party seemed to understand that except for me and my husband.

“I can see it. You’re very calming and you listen well. It fits you,” he complimented.

Blushing from his words, I couldn’t help but show all thirty-two. My smile was so deep because I received this exact compliment from Tristan whenever he expressed why he was so in love with me. There wasn’t a time where he didn’t refer to me as the calm in his storm and how he never has to repeat himself with me. Eighteen years and he was still the only man who had my entire heart.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

“Call it how I see it.”

A silence fell and the sounds of the ocean became the only thing worth listening to. My life was a peaceful one so to accompany something so soothing was more than relaxing for me. Closing my eyes, the masseur continued to rub the tension out my body. It felt so good I found myself drifting in and out of sleep moments at a time.

This anniversary was a memorable one. Each one was but this one fell in line under the relaxing category. I liked that Alex wasn’t so pushy about sex and waited until I allowed him to touch me. He gave me gentleman last year as well, so I was used to his ways.

The feeling of a warm tongue gliding across my toes instantly brought out a soft moan. I knew it was Alex only because the masseur wasn’t taking such a risk to lose his job. Plus, he’d had been eyeing me like he wanted to eat me all day. I knew he was ready to taste and fill up on my juices.

My toes were sucked for a while before he snaked his way onto the massage table completely. With me still face down, my body was slightly lifted. My legs were wrapped around his waist and the feel of his dick rubbed against my folds. I couldn’t deny how it sent a small shiver up my spine. He allowed me to get comfortable before I was gently pressed down into the table.

There was a tray of freshly cut fruit to the side of us along with many cans of whip cream. Alex was a chef because of skill but he had a fetish many didn’t. Him having sitophilia only made sense when it was revealed. He loved it too much not to incorporate it into every part of his life.

“Here I was thinking you’d be the last beautiful thing I saw for the day, but the sight of your pretty ass pussy takes the cake. I could never get tired of seeing her glisten.”

One thing about this chocolate pussy, she stayed groomed. I never missed a wax appointment, and she never gave an odor. She was the cleanest and wettest set of walls you’d ever get in between. I took pride in making sure she was one of one. I fucked good and she accompanied me.

However, this go ‘round, I was being catered to. The cold feeling of the whip cream filling the crack of my ass caused a grin to creep upon my face. Alex never did the most. He always took his time when eating and showed me exactly what that mouth did before piping me down. I couldn’t ask for a better partner to be with. In situations as such, they got them first and never thought about the other party involved. I was blessed to have ones that knew to cherish me.

“Alex.”

“Give me a minute, beautiful. A nigga getting ready to eat, and I don’t really like talking with my mouth full.”

His response caused my pussy to leak like a fuckin’ faucet. He opened my flood gates with ease and had no remorse about whathe was doing to me. The light squeezes along my flesh followed by gentle kisses didn’t help one bit. My body was on fire.

I felt every inch of his tongue making acquaintances with my ass. Listening to his moans correspond with mine had my cream seeping out of my opening at a subtle pace. The feeling was one I wouldn’t be able to explain. He wasn’t a messy eater in any shape or form. I took note of that from our last encounter. I just knew my backside was set up as a delectable buffet for this man.

The mixture of him and the cool fluids of the whip cream traveled down my folds. Opening my eyes to see anything wasn’t happening anytime soon. I felt like a euphoric cloud replaced the silent one that fell upon us earlier. So many thoughts were running through my mind that I was confusing myself.

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