Page 5 of Chef's Kiss

A family forever.

Children that you’re proud of. A wife that you love and you know is faithful to you.

The thought has me damn near ripping the handle off the door, as I yank it open and dart inside the studio.

It’s empty, as expected.

I imagine blindfolding her in this dark room, running my hands and mouth along those magnificent tits of hers while I cup her extraordinary chest.

The way she swung those full hips from side to side when she went to get those spatulas of mine put any and all models on the planet to shame.

And I swore I saw a light dusting of freckles at the base of her neck, right by her collarbone which I want to suck on like an animal after devouring its prey.

But I’m not sure if there were freckles or not, she was so covered up, and it’s not even cold in Southern California. Ever, unless you count the mountains.

Damn, the mountains. Yeah, she’s got a couple perfect slopes attached to her chest all right, and I’d take her skiing up in Big Bear any weekend she wants…as long as she knows one look at her is gonna bring out the bear inside of me.

The way I want to possess her is completely irrational and I know she couldn’t understand it. She’s like a breath of fresh air, which is exactly what my cock needs right now. The fucker is at full height, trapped in a cotton cage known as boxer briefs, and it needs to be freed. If the security guard would have looked down into my car he would have sworn I had two stickshifts, and banned me from the lot forever.

My eyes close as I run to the bathrooms, my mind taking in the scent of her again. She’s like a damn dream, and the second I shove through the door I dash to the last stall and kick the door open, jerking down my pants without even undoing my belt.

I damn near break my dick in the process, but I feel no pain, only pleasure. Plus you can’t break a steel rod at full strength.

I fist my cock, and stroke, images of her legs spread for me on the kitchen counter flashing through my head. I’ve got my hand on her ass and my cock jammed down her throat. She makes a choking sound, unable to take me.

Fuck.

I look down, spitting on my cock and furiously rubbing it in. Up and down my dick, beating it like it stole something.

I can’t remember ever masturbating, let alone like this.

This is what she’s done to me. She’s possessed me just like I want to possess her.

I continue stroking, not sure if this is pleasure or more a fit of lust-filled anger that she’s not here right now, and I’m not about to bury my seed so deep inside her it drips out for a week straight. But fuck that. That’s not happening. I know her hungry, tight little pussy will swallow ever last gulp. We’re perfect for each other, and I know she’ll want my babies just as much as I need to give them to her.

My hips kick and my body jerks forward as I spray my load into the wall behind the toilet like one of those power cleaning hoses they use to remove graffiti in downtown L.A.

First one spray, and then another, followed by thick hot ropes which fan out in multiple directions, covering the toilet seat and floor.

“Fuck!” I yell, part from the release, part from the damn near bucket of seed I just spilled, but mostly from the realization that that seed belonged inside her. That was for her, and now it’s gone.

But I can’t be too angry at myself. If I would have saved this for her, I probably would have damn near killed her.

Plus there’s another elephant in the room…the way she was looking at me.

I’m a big guy and my face isn’t exactly made for the cover of People’s Most Beautiful issue. I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, which is why I pushed to get to where I am today…eating off golden ones.

She probably thinks I’m a freak, a monster, just another celebrity with a “don’t you know who I am” attitude.

Maybe I am hardened, but it’s this damn town that will do that to you. Not her. Not yet at least. I have to get to her and capture that innocence, bottle it up for me and only me.

I sound like such a damn hypocrite, but I don’t care. All I care about is her, and keeping that perfect sweetness she has in her life alive. Always.

Yeah, I’m obsessed, and jealous as fuck too. I wanted to deck that guy who made those comments. If he would have looked at her longer than the millisecond he did he would have been chewing flooring tiles.

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