November 7, 2013
Food + Foreplay: A testimonial from Kitty
I have a passion for food.
I love how you can take simple ingredients and create masterpieces and then you get to enjoy the fruits of your labor by giving your palate an experience.
I see food, as I do most things, to be very erotic.
Food, like sex, makes you feel good. If the meal is delicious enough, it can give you a moment of escape and at the end of it you’re left satisfied.
This sexperience is about how my partner and I tied my love for food and sex together and created magic.
I have never forgotten this occasion because it was the one and only time food was incorporated into my sexual play.
During a lazy afternoon of cuddling, reading and watching television my girlfriend at the time and I decided to cook something to eat… well actually I decided I was hungry so she decided to cook for me. I had a pretty nice set up with her. She was a woman who absolutely loved to cook and I love to eat.
She would cook me my favorite meals and to show my gratitude for all her hard work I’d usually make a meal between her legs.
I’ve mentioned this particular woman before in other sexperience posts, she was/is an amazing woman.
I watched her from the couch in her open concept kitchen. I had a perfect view of her.
She hummed as she pulled out ingredients, banged things together, got the stove prepared, and as she cut and chopped.
She was in her panties and an over sized t-shirt. I remember it because when she walked briskly the shirt would cling to the front of her body exposing the shape of her breasts. I guess you could say I spent a lot of time admiring her. She was an extremely sexy woman and not only physically but her aura was one that kept me drawn in and hardly being able to keep my hands to myself.
I watched her some more, sautéing onions and garlic in a pan, seasoning salmon, she was so focused on what she was doing and I was so focused on her.
I watched her as she dropped a clove of garlic onto the floor and bent over to pick it up.
“Hey turn up the TV, I can’t hear it in here,” she asked me.
She pulled the salmon off of the stove and placed potatoes into the oven to bake as I made my way over to her.
“Get out of the kitchen Symone,” she said annoyed.
She hated when I was in the kitchen at the same time as her because I always got in her way. It was a pretty small kitchen area and even just having two people in there made it feel crowded.
She took a sip of some wine she had in a glass by the sink and when she placed the glass back down I leaned her up against the same counter and kissed her.
She pulled away, “I’m cooking…we can do this later.”
I pulled her in and kissed her again this time more intense, “No, now.”
“You always want to do this at the most in…con…ven…ient ,” I remember her words drifting off as I slid my hands down into her panties.
We kissed and I kept one hand inside of her panties and the other with a firm grasp on her butt.
She lifted her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor and cupped one of her own breasts motioning for me to put my mouth on it.
She used her other hand to try to get into my panties but I slapped it away.
At the beginning of our relationship she used to fight me on things like that. We were both always trying to assert our power, we both wanted to wear the pants. Eventually she stopped fighting me and let me have control.
I pulled away from her and opened the freezer and fridge deciding what I was going to eat off of her body. She asked me what I was doing and I ignored her.
I decided on some strawberries that had been left back from a smoothie she had made earlier in the morning, some chocolate sauce that I had a bad habit of eating right out of the bottle, her bottle of wine and a tub of almost finished ice-cream from the freezer.
I placed everything on the counter beside her.
“Get on the counter,” I told her.
She shifted her butt onto the counter and slid herself back so her back could get flat against the wall behind her.
I traced my fingers on the outside of her panties pulling them down to her ankles and she kicked them off the rest of the way.
“This isn’t sanitary,” she said. Even when she was aroused her germaphobe ways never ceased.
I told her to shut up.
I poured a drippy, sticky line of chocolate sauce from her inner thigh down to her calves and ankles and licked my way from the bottom back to the top.
From her breasts to her stomach I did the same thing.
The next couple of times I would drizzle it anywhere, her shoulders and neck, her pubic mound, I rubbed some across her lips and licked it off and finally between her legs.
I pulled her to the edge of the counter so I could get better access to her and she held onto my head and shoulders for balance as she pulled on my hair in response.
I did love going down on her.
I opened the ice-cream container which was now pretty melted after being out for some time and dumped all the contents right onto her chest.
She shrieked and we laughed together hysterically as she tried to get all of it off her body.
“That’s freezing!” she screamed at me.
I kissed her again and devoured the ice-cream that had been left back, rubbing it into her nipples and taking my time to clean off each one.
I forced her flat on her back and leaned over her using my fingers to explore her insides while we kissed and embraced each other.
It was an extremely sensual experience.
“You forgot about the wine,” she panted to me in between breaths.
I picked up the wine and poured the entire bottle all over her drenching her, the counter and the floor.
“You’re going to clean this shit up you know,” she warned me.
I told her to shut up again and she did.
I am not a drinker and I don’t like wine but off of her body mixed with ice-cream and chocolate sauce it tasted amazing.
I went back between her thighs, where some wine had made its way and I licked and sucked, teased and feasted on her until I got from her what I wanted.
After we finished we took a shower together and by the time we came out the smoke detector was going off and we had burned the salmon on the stove and the potatoes in the oven.
We ordered in pizza and left the mess for the next day.
I never did get to use the strawberries.
– Kitty –