All of the following is complete and total fiction. Not a word of it occurred, nor would it.
A Taste of Cinnamon
Starring Camila Mendes
(MF, oral, Cons)
By MaxwellLord
When Damien MacNeil graduated culinary school he had two dreams of equal importance. One of course was the dream of all chefs, and that was a restaurant of his very own. The other, which was more attainable and also much more up his alley, was a food truck. He had a strong desire to always be mobile, at least with his cooking. He thought there was nothing better than going all over with his signature style. Of course, a signature style was something he'd have to come up with first. In the mean time, he had another option to use his culinary skills to put money in his pocket and a roof over his head; cooking tutor. And he was able to mix this with his far more amenable dream of a food truck. Damien was a mobile cooking tutor.
The job was exactly what it sounded like. He had several clients all over the Los Angeles area. Well, the rich parts at least. He didn't price anyone out, or at least that wasn't his aim, but it just so happened that the job he had stumbled upon by accident tended to have a clientele who could probably just afford a private chef instead of spending even more money for him to teach them how to cook.
Of course it wasn't always that long term as some of his clients just wanted to learn one thing, then it was only a few weeks at most unless they were spectacularly bad. The job he was heading to was just that, though the quality of the student had yet to be determined as it was going to be the first lesson. The client wanted to be taught the very basics of baking and in specific, how to make the absolute perfect cinnamon roll. It wasn't an odd request nor was it remotely the most singular. That would have been the tech bro that wanted to make the single best grilled cheese sandwich in the world. This would, hopefully, be a cake walk in comparison.
The neighborhood he found himself in to get his client wasn't too bad. While it wasn't ultra posh he also knew he was dealing with someone who was living comfortably. So from what he could gather, he was dealing with a somewhat well off woman with something of a sweet tooth. Though knowing she was a woman wasn't so much of a guess, as he had the client's name.
He pulled up in front of a rather modest, or modest in comparison amongst the neighborhood, house in the middle of the street. He stepped out of his car, holding a toolbox filled with his various cooking tools. He had a cooler in the back of his van filled with more stuff for the lesson, like ingredients, but he wanted to meet the client first.
Damien rang the doorbell and waited for a response, or a human response as opposed to the sound of a small dog barking in response of the ding dong of his announcement.
"Truffle calm down!" he heard a distinctly female voice say through the door, followed by a much clearer version of that voice through an intercom. "Who is it?"
"Damien MacNeil," he answered. "And if your name is Camila Mendes then I'm at the right place."
The door opened to reveal a drop dead gorgeous Latina behind it, though it wasn't open all the way just yet.
"You have the QR code thing your ad says you'd have?"
Damien nodded and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a laminated card with with his business logo across the top and the QR code dead center which was quickly scanned by Camila's phone. After a cheerful "ding" sound rang, the actress seemed satisfied.
"Please," she said, "come in." Cami held the door open wide to allow Damien passage. Her home was a fairly cozy one, well lived in with pictures of family and friends on walls and shelves. Also running and circling on the floor was a very inquisitive little dog with a very noticeable underbite.
"This everything?" Camila asked.
"Just the tools," he answered. "The ingredients are still in the car. Was going to drop these off in the kitchen and then go back for them. Just easier that way."
"All right," she said with a shrug. "You're the pro. Kitchen's this way." The brunette led him the short distance to the kitchen and it was fairly typical. Somewhat spacious but not ridiculous. A nice big counter in the center loaded up with drawers and cabinets below a marble top and above that various cookware hanging just above it. To complete the typical sight was a stainless steel refrigerator with an icemaker and monitor screen for some reason Damien was sure he'd never even inquire about.
He set his toolbox on the counter and faced Camila who was leaning forward on the on the side of the counter.
"So what's on the lesson plan today?" she asked.
"Bread," he replied simply.
"Bread?" she asked
"Bread," he confirmed. "I always start with the basics and though your end goal isn't the most complicated, cinnamon rolls can be tricky at the very least. Mainly with the filling."
"So we begin with the single most basic thing."
"Yep. Preschool, then Kindergarten with cinnamon rolls as grad school."
"Aren't preschool and kindergarten the same thing?"
"I don't think so, like one is preparatory."
"So preschool is baby prep school, which is what we're doing today in baked goods form?" Cami asked, looking for confirmation.
"I guess that's one way to look at it," he said. "And since you're paying for the lessons, I guess that is the way to look at it."
"I like you already."
"I strive to be personable." With that, Damien left the kitchen for the briefest of moments while Camila opened the tool box and began to look through it. She felt like she was going through a doctor's bag with all the assorted and very shiny knives and similarly sharp objects. Then in another drawer were a bunch of silicon spatulas. Well some of them were for sure. Others just looked like random squares and semi-circles of the material in various colors and sizes.
"We won't be using most of that," Damien said, startling Camila. "Really just the wooden spoon and one of the spatulas. Well, dough scrapers. I mean it's just a spatula without a handle."
"You mean this?" Camila said, pulling a green one from the box.
"Exactly. Maybe this will be more along the lines of kindergarten."
"Well I've always been in the advanced classes." Camila give him him a smile then walked over to him as he set the cool on the floor next to the counter. "So, how do we start?"
"Well, I'm going to put all the ingredients on the counter except one, which I think you can handle."
"What's that?"
"One and a half of a cup of very warm water. Not boiling or or super hot. More like a cup of hot tea that you can drink without blowing on it."
"Gotcha." Camila went to one of her kitchen cabinets and then quickly got the water as needed. By the time she returned to the counter it was a bit more full with the cooler almost completely empty. Two large squares of parchment paper were spread out on the table along with several dry ingredients, each in their own plastic containers with measuring cups near them. Alongside two empty glass bowls. "You work quick."
"Best to get a lot of the busy work out of the way so we can focus on the main course," Damien said.
"I do like it when a man does all the work," Camila suggestively said. "So we're ready?"
"Almost. Do you have one of those big glass measuring cups?"
"Yeah."
"Fill it with three cups of very warm water. Not boiling but hot."
"No prob," Cami said, and proceeded to show how little of a prob it was. She returned to the table with the water and a question. "We need a loaf pan or anything?"
"Not a loaf pan, now. But a Dutch oven or any over safe pot you have is going to come in handy." Soon that was ready to go as well. "Okay, so let's get the easy part out of the way. Dump those dry ingredients in your bowl like I will in mine. Any order, doesn't matter at this stage."
Cami did so, asking when she was done, "What's the measurements on these?"
"Three cups All Purpose flour, two teaspoons of instant yeast, same with the salt but make sure it's kosher. Nothing else. This is just a very basic, very simple bread. Now you can choose to to mix it now or wait until you add the water but that water always goes last."
"Are we going to get our hands dirty with the mixing?"
"Not for this no, just the handle end of our wooden spoons. Sounds odd but it makes for a more even stir with less effort. Of course, that's only after the water is added. So, without further ado."
Damien grabbed the measuring glass and pouring half of the hot water into his bowl then the rest into his clients. The moment her began to stir so did she and in short order they were both left with big mounds of dough that looked like they'd been run through the mill. Before Camila could ask what was next Damien floured the parchment paper on the counter and dumped out his dough and Camila followed suit.
"Time for the rolling pin?" she asked.
"Nope, just the dough scrapers," he said, pointing out the silicone spatula-looking things before reaching out to grab one for each of them. "Just to kind of mounding it up into a ballish kind of shape. We aren't going for a perfect shape, just something that kind of resembles a globe. Just watch me on it." And she did, and soon those misshapen mounds had some kind of shape to them. "Now, we put these in two bowls, cover them with plastic wrap and let them proof for about three hours."
"Three hours?" asked Camila, more than a little surprised. "Look, I don't have three hours to spare for this. Maybe like an hour, hour and a half."
"Which is why I brought a dough premade." He reached in and took out a plastic container that held a dough much like the ones just made, though a bit larger. He placed it directly on the the floured parchment paper, then lifted the paper with the dough in it and placed it in the pot Camila had provided. "No need to oil it either as the parchment paper will make sure there's no sticking. Then just put the top on to seal the heat and it'll only be about an hour including letting it set. So, in the mean time, we can make a little accompaniment with some flavored butters. Or just one, to be fair. Some regular whipped butter and then some garlic butter."
"How complicated can flavored butter get?"
"Well, if I had opted for blueberry butter that in itself would be a lesson."
"Blueberry butter? How does that feel basic and bougie at the exact same time?"
"Learned how to make it while I was a sous chef at a steak house."
"Well, that answers that," Cami said, making Damien laugh.
"You have a food processor?" he asked. "We're going to need it to whip the butter. We're going to kind of look at it as prepping you for the frosting with the cinnamon rolls."
"Makes sense," Camila replied. "So what else do we need?"
"Just some more bowls really. Everything else is ready to go. And just in case you're curious we're using unsalted butter, roasted garlic and parmesan cheese and just a little bit of ground pepper. Don't worry about adding salt, believe me, the parmesan is going to take care of that."
"Okay, so while you're setting that up, I'll put it on myself to keep the conversation flowing since it looks like you're taking it on yourself to handle the butter."
"Works for me. I mean it's basic enough where you can get the gist unless you want get your hands dirty."
"While I would never be the kind of girl who would be accused to have an aversion to being dirty I think I'll hang back on this one." There was no room to wonder anymore if any of the innuendo was unintentional with Camila, not with the combination of the tone of her voice, the words she'd been speaking and the look on her face. It wasn't something Damien was new to, though rarely such open flirtatiousness came to him from a woman of this caliber.
He began to take out the rest of the ingredients out; two sticks of unsalted butter, a wedge of parmesan, the roasted garlic and some fresh herbs ready to be sliced. The moment they were all placed, he began. Grating the cheese, chopping the herbs, whipping the butter, and prepping the roasted garlic, still steaming hot in it's heated and insulated container. Of course, none of this was done in silence.
"So is being a cooking tutor you main gig or a side hustle?" Cami asked.
"Main gig," he replied as he grated the cheese. "Got really tired of working underneath chefs who either weren't as good as they thought they were but talked to their staff like they were, those who were that good and thought Gordon Ramsey was a pansy and people who I outclassed and thought they were the king of the mountain. Not that I don't run into that with this gig but honestly the money is so good for not even eight hours of work a day that I won't have to do it for too long."
"This just a means to an end?" asked Camila
"Aren't all jobs?" he countered.
"Fair enough, but what's the end here?"
"A food truck," he replied. "Just like the idea better. Mobile, go where the business is, and a bit more freedom to be experimental."
"I like it," Camila said with a smile. "I've talked to a few chefs and the end all be all for so many is a restaurant either in LA or New York. Sometimes in Chicago. There's such a need to be liked that you'd swear they were in my profession."
"A lot of chefs do have that actor thing going on don't they?"
"What gave it away for me?"
"Well when you say you're familiar with a great need to be liked it's kind of easy to put that piece of the puzzle in place."
"Nice one," she said as she got her turn to laugh at herself. "But seriously, that's a good goal. Fun one too. Experimenting can be fun."
"Mind if I ask you a question now?" Damien asked.
"Go for it," she replied.
"Why cinnamon rolls?"
"Nothing too outrageous or dreamy," the brunette replied. "I like sweet stuff for breakfast occasionally and donuts sometimes don't hit my sweet tooth just right. Cinnamon rolls never fail to. I mean it's sweet, but the cinnamon gives it just the right amount of something else. And the dough is just better. Just a quick bite when I don't want to make an acai bowl because you know most store bought ones are crap and basically just oatmeal or some screwed up pudding and you can't do drive through for breakfast in this business and expect to last. Hell, in any business, but for totally different reasons. I figure I learn to do this, me and my man always have something on stand-by that's at least good and a quick sugar rush and I know what's in it because I made it."
"You gonna train your man to make them in case you have a late night?" Damien asked.
"He's already a jack of all trades, I think I'll have some all for myself."
"Sounds good," he said, dropping the grated cheese and chopped herbs on top of the butter followed by the roasted garlic, squeezing it into the food processor. "And here we go." He pulsed the mixture in the food processor in five second intervals and soon it was ready. He opening it up and dipped a tasting spoon in the mixture then offered it to Cami. "Care for a taste?"
"Thank you," she said before bypassing the spoon and dipping her index finger in the concoction and sucking the buttery goodness from it. "Mmmm," said, licking her lips. "Is everything you do this delicious?"
"I guess you're going to find out."
"Guess I will."
*******
"Why does the butter have to be cold?" Camila asked. It was a week later and round two of her cooking course and the next level, as determined by Damien, was biscuits; buttermilk to be precise. Once more they were in her kitchen this time with what Damien had determined to be the next level of difficulty in terms of baked goods.
"If the butter's cold it steams while the biscuit bakes in the oven," Damien replied. "So that makes the biscuits rise more and get even fluffier, which is exactly what we want in a biscuit." He grabbed the lump of dough in front of them both and began to form it into a rectangle. "One thing about these is you don't want this too thin. One inch will do it."
"So we want it nice and thick," Cami said with just the right hint of the right kind of suggestion in her tone.
"Yeah, but we need to really work up to it to get it just the right amount," he batted right back to her. "Just watch me." And she did as he formed the dough into a one inch thick rectangle, fold it over, cut it, stacked the two haves then looked to her. "Your turn. Let's see how good you are with your hands."
"Moi? I've never gotten any complaints." Damien stepped back and allowed Camila to take her spot. Soon she started imitating what she'd seen him do, patting and forming the dough once more into a rectangle.
"You know, usually I say 'Who's your daddy?' when I'm doing this," the bawdy brunette said as she patted the dough down.
"I bet you also do it a bit harder than that."
"Should I be doing that now?"
"Actually no," replied Damien. "You might be doing it a bit too rough. We want this to be as low friction as possible so the butter stays cold."
"Low friction and low heat?" Cami asked, the flirtatious and joking tone once more in her voice. "I'm not too familiar with either concept."
"Let me steer you around the edges," he said, getting in position behind her and loosely putting his hands on top of her to guide her own.
"You get this hands on with all your clients?" she asked,
"So far just you and Willem DaFoe."
"At least that's good company." His breath barely caressed her skin, so close yet all too far. His hands though, that was pure skin to skin contact. It wasn't too complex, and he could have just shown her how by stepping back once more. However, both would agree the hands on approach was a bit more fun.
"Just like that," he said. "Not too hard otherwise you're not going to get that butter steaming right and the biscuits won't rise right."
"We wouldn't want a lack of rise," said Camila. "That's not fun for anyone."
"Speaking of, how did you boyfriend like the bread?" The question would have been relatively normal if not for his hands being on hers and Cami's as grinding in the most subtle manner against his crotch.
"A lot actually," she replied as their hands continued on the dough. "Didn't really use the butter though. Which was a bit of a bummer. I thought I made a good batch after our lesson together."
"I'd love to taste it."
"In due time."
After a minute more of working the dough in the cycles he'd shown her, the dough was ready to be cut. Damien showed her the right way to go about it by flouring the biscuit cutter between every cut and let her finish it until the scraps of dough weren't enough to reform to repeat the process.
"So, what next?" She asked. "Straight to the oven for twenty buttermilk biscuits?"
"Totally up to you. They freeze extremely well so you can do whatever number you want. Lady's Choice."
"How long do we have to leave them in for?"
"Maybe about ten minutes, then a five minute rest. We still want them hot enough to melt butter on contact."
"Melting is always a good thing," she said before leaning forward on the counter. "You know, you never asked what I thought about the bread and butter. You asked about my boyfriend first. Aren't you curious?"
"Well, I suppose I am now," he replied. "What did you think?"
"Delicious," she said, walking towards him, brown eyes focused on him. "I can't wait to taste everything else you have to offer." She was close to him now, almost body to body. They were both about to get a taste of each other's menu when Camila's phone went off. "This is the textbook example of the opposite of being saved by the bell." She took a quick look at the message sent to her and nodded. "Looks like we'll have to delay this meal for two until our next lesson."
"That's the funny thing about a craving," Damien said. "Sometimes the longer it takes to get that taste, the more satisfying it ends up being."
"Is that a culinary fact?"
"I think we're both going to find that out."
*******
"Not going hands free for this round?" Cami asked. It was time for the main course, the endgame she'd hired Damien for in the first place. It was time for cinnamon rolls. She'd carved out an extra bit of time considering anyone who might contact her was either out of town or aware she was otherwise pre-occupied. In addition to that, she'd requested her tutor show up a few hours early, considering she had known in advance how long the entire process would take and she didn't want to use dough he'd premade as happened with the bread. This was the goal and she wanted to be present every step of the way and then some. And of course, she was just as engaged as ever as the lump of cinnamon rolls-to-be was in front of her, ready to be laid out.
"Not for this," he said. "For this we need a few extra tools." He then took out a rolling pin though it wasn't the kind Camila was use to seeing.
"Where are the handles?" she asked, looking and the cylindrical piece of wood.
"This is a French rolling pin," Damien replied. "I vastly prefer them. Since its one piece and no moving parts the roll is a lot more even and it's easier to control. I figured it be best to use this since you're going to be rolling this out all on your own."
"That's certainly a vote of confidence," she said, stepping into position at the counter with the dough in front of her on a surface of floured parchment paper. Camila then grabbed the rolling pin before looking to culinary cohort. "Care to provide some training wheels again?"
"Not at all." Once more he found himself behind her, Camila back to his chest and his hands on hers. It was one thing to acknowledge to himself how beautiful Camila was and how well she filled out her jeans and top it was quite another to be so close and knowing she felt even better than she looked.
"So, what we're going to do is flatten this out into a rectangle-shape about three-quarters of an inch thick, so pretty thin unlike the biscuits." His hands began to guide hers on the rolling pin, working the dough out into it's desired dimensions. "You know I have to know, who recommended me to you?" Pretty much all my business comes through referrals."
"Willem DaFoe of course," she joked. "He said you had a soft but firm touch and calm demeanor. Didn't mention the mix of boyish charm and roguish good looks."
"Such a flatterer, that Willem."
"And what about me?" Cami asked, looking over her shoulder with knowing eyes and a smile as she slowly moved her hips, her ass gently rubbing against his crotch.
"Definitely in the top ten."
"Looks like I'll have to make a case for myself."
"You aren't already?" he asked, getting a sweet little giggle from her as they continued to roll out the dough into the desired shape. All the while the pair did the most subtle of teasing with each other. Hot breath, caresses of the hand that could be brushed away as accidental. And while if Camila pressed the matter Damien would definitely not resist her abundant charms, it wouldn't be the first time such a thing would have happened on the job. It was, in a way, kind of like working in a restaurant, the staff tends to end up screwing each other in between bitching about customers and incredibly filthy jokes that broke every single rules shown in human resource training videos. So while Camila would not have been the first celebrity to succumb to his charms or vice versa, she might just be the most fun as she was most definitely his type in every way so far.
Soon the dough was rolled out and then came the filling, which Camila made and added herself while Damien watched, and the same happened when Camila began to roll the cinnamon-sugar filled roll up into a log and the watching continued as she cut it. Together they put it in a greased up baking pan and put it in the oven and then began on something to fill up the baking time.
"And now, we get to the frosting because a cinnamon roll without frosting just isn't right," said Damien. "And it's pretty simple. Just some cream cheese, vanilla extract, powder sugar, a little bit of butter, a pinch of salt, a tiny bit of lemon juice and some milk. You need the training wheels for this?"
"I think I'll keep them on call just in case," replied Cami with a wink. Damien watched as she added the ingredients together without a drop pilled or a grain out of place and began to whisk the concoction and in admirable time had gotten the sugary glaze to the perfect consistency. "How's it look?"
"Pretty perfect," Damien replied. "Now let's see if it passes the taste test." He walked towards Camila and the bowl of sugary goodness with a spoon ready, though he'd find the utensil to be superfluous as Cami had decided it would have been best for him to use another method of taste-testing.
"Here's hoping I get an A+," she said, offering up an icing-coated index finger to him. He paused for a second, looking at her smirking face for approval. "Go on, you're the expert." With that green light he went, taking her finger in his mouth and sucking it clean.
"A++," he replied.
"Oh, that sounds like I should get a gold star and one of those scratch 'n' sniff stickers that says 'You did Grape!' and maybe even a goodie from the goodie basket."
"Pity I don't have a goodie basket," Damien said.
"Don't worry, I do," Cami said, not even bothering to conceal the heavy duty flirtation at this point. "Maybe you'll get a treat."
With that queue a bell rang, signaling the completion of the rolls' time in the oven. With oven mitts on Damien removed the cinnamon rolls, their addictive aroma filling Camila's kitchen.
"Do we need to wait to apply the frosting or are we good to go?" she asked.
"We're good, the hotter and fresher the better."
"Just like me," Cami said before starting to spreading the gooey white frosting all over the baked goods. It oozed deliciously over the rolls until all were covered and after a short wait Damien took one each out of the pan.
No sooner did both have a hot handful of gooey cinnamon goodness than were they both taken on sugary journey of pure satisfaction when the baked confection made contact with their tongues.
"Holy crap," Cami said after swallowing the roll. "That might be the best thing I've had my mouth in a long time."
"Might be?" Damien asked.
"Day's still young," she said with a wink before going right back to the cinnamon roll, an act Damien followed with his own. "Damn that's good."
"And it's about 95% all you," Damien said. "I just provided the ingredients and minimum guidance."
"That's right," she said with a sexy, proud smile. "And to me that's cause for a quick celebration. And you're coming with me. Nothing fancy, not a night on the town, just a quick few drinks and maybe some appetizers at this little bar I know a couple blocks away. Nice live music too. And the only thing barred from this little celebration is no for an answer."
"Well then, I guess all I can say is lead the way."
******
"You know clubs are nice and all but you just can't beat the atmosphere of a place like this," Camila said. "Plus it's nice to actually be able to hear a conversation."
The bar they were in was everything she said it was. There was a live band playing cover songs that were irresistibly danceable, like most 80's top 40 tunes tended to be. The walls were covered with kitsch posters and pictures, but not the tacky kind found in the a local chain restaurant. These ones felt like they were picked up through life and not an Ebay sale. The drinks were cheap and the chicken nacho platter they got to split was damn fine bar food by Damien's estimation.
"Of course in order for that conversation part to matter much you need good company," Damien added.
"I think we have that covered, no?"
"I wouldn't disagree with that sentiment."
"Good. And a nice bonus for this place is a dance partner. And judging by how deep we both are into our spicy margaritas we're just about at that point where the buzz is so good that dancing seems like an amazing idea the moment the right song comes on and I have to warn you, this band picks the right song at an alarming rate."
"Is that a warning or a promise?"
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" Camila smirked before taking another sip of her drink and as soon as it went down her throat her warning/promise came to fruition when the band began playing a song that Damien recognized and was just the kind of song Camila was waiting for.
"I LOVE this song!" she said before getting up and grabbing his hand. "Time to dance, Chef."
"How do you know this song?" he said, referring to Need You Tonight by INXS. "Hell, how do I know this song?"
"It's this little invention called radio," Cami said. "And the follow-up called streaming with this wonderful feature called 'recommendations'. Now are we going to allow me to continue with the heavy sarcasm and let the margaritas go to waste or use this buzz to shake our asses on the dance floor?"
Damien gave in and was lead to the dance floor by a very eager Camila. It was also a somewhat empty dance floor, as it was only just hitting dusk and the swing shift rush had yet to come in. It might have well just have been the two of them, and to Camila it was, because while Damien was indeed attempting to dance with her Camila was for more into the idea of dancing for him.
Every flash of her face was devilishly gorgeous, a wonderfully wicked smile that acknowledged she knew exactly what she was doing with every rhythmic movement her body. She was never more than a few inches away, always within range of Damien's touch. That, of course, also meant he was in range of hers. Caresses of his face, bringing her lips inches away from his before drawing back with a laugh, spinning around so her back was to him and grinding her ass into his crotch and leaning back against his chest. They both knew what this was leading to at this point. It'd been leading to this every session they had up until now. One of them just the words, four words, and that would be it.
Soon, the song was over, the dancing had stopped and both of them were breathing heavy, though between those breaths Camila had four words for Damien.
"Your place or mine?"
********
The place ended up being Camila's, a return trip both were in a rush to make. Her door flew open with the force of a lustful wind and was slammed shut by a haphazard kick just as as fast. Cami found herself pinned to the wall, locked in a passionate embrace with a heated liplock as the cherry one top. When the seal was broken a soft moan escaped her lips in reaction to Damien's touch. His skilled hands roaming her body, feeling it through the fabrics of her clothing, especially when he took a healthy squeeze of her ass, both of them damning the denim covering. However that was a quick fix and as both in unison went for the other's pants, working frantically to undo them.
Damien crossed that finish line first and no sooner were Camila's jeans loosened then they and her underwear were down around her ankles and her cooking tutor on his knees. Of course, with such an appetizing dish before him, a clean shaven pussy that was glistening with arousal, Damien wasted no time in digging in.
"Fuck!" Camila exclaimed. She hissed a breath in between her teeth as Damien's first course began. The heat was on, temperature rising rapidly as his fingers and tongue worked wonders on her. She shook and shivered, moaned his name and begged for more as she felt Damien savor her repeatedly, never quite able to sate his growing appetite.
"There...fuck right there...just like...mmmnnnng yessss," she whined. Her hands slapped and scratched against the wall, looking for something to grips as Damien hit all the right sweet spots within her and her clit was treated to a tender and tantalizing tongue lashing. It was enough to make her weak in the knees. And of course there was also the added garnish of his free hand caressing the bare flesh of her legs and ass. It was all a perfect combination of sizzle and steak and Camila was sizzling.
The trouble though with having wobbly knees was it made standing difficult. Fortunately Cami was able to communicate that, grabbing Damien by his hair and pulling him back up to his knees, as tough as that was to end the oral delights he was providing. Dutifully he stood up and grabbed Camila by the hips, lifting the Brazilian bombshell up as she kicked off the remnants of the bottom half of her wardrobe.
Their destination was one that had become quite familiar to the pair in the past few weeks, that being Camila's kitchen where she was sat on the counter in the center of it all where they had made so many tasty delights. It seemed only fair to make the most delicious one in the same area.
Damien set her down on the counter where Camila took care of her top while Damien lost the entirety of his clothing. Her brown eyes were wide and blazing with desire, matching his own own. Her sweet and sexual smile was a big green light screaming "GO!!" and go he did. They embraced again, skin to skin and lip to lip. They were absolutely ravenous, kissing and licking each other on whatever piece bare flesh the could find before Cami halted it with one simple request.
"Fuck me," she said. "Give me your cock...I want to feel you right now." The next sound to escape Camila's perfectly kissable lips was a deep moan of satisfaction as Damien fulfilled her request, sliding his cock into her pussy.
"Holy shit," he said under his breath, matching a similar expletive said by Camila.
"Feels so fucking good," she said, leaning back on her arms while her legs wrapped loosely around his waste. "So..so damn good...keep going though Damien...keep going." And he did, leaning forward to kiss her once more while building up a pace within her. Slowly in and out at first working his hips and making sure both were savoring every moment and every sensation. The delectable feeling of Camila pussy, her hot breath on his ears and neck and the sweet filthy nothings that were falling from her mouth, nothing that only increased in sweet filth with every kiss from her lips to her necks to her breasts and back again.
"Yes...more now...come on...come on baby...just...just like that...so good...nice and deep..." Camila breathing got quicker and harder as his pace increased. "Yes...oh fuck just like that...more...fuck yeah...ohhh baby don't stop...yesssssss!!!" Cami's cries only grew with a very minor change when Damien grabbed her left leg from his hip and lifted it, pressing it against his chest. Her began to kiss her toned calf, even giving it at tender bite that sent shivers up Cami's spine.
Deeper and harder was how he gave it to her, every time making her take deeper and deep breaths as the fire within grew and grew. If the counter wasn't so firmly attached to the ground the force of the duos furious fucking would have pushed it to the other side of the kitchen by this point.
Colliding flesh and moans of ecstatic pleasure filled not just the kitchen but the house, echoing off linoleum and hardwood floors, taking only a minor break as Cami began to speak. Her forehead was against his, the two staring each other out with nothing but pure lust in their eyes.
"D-Damien," she stuttered, giving him a quick kiss before continuing. "I want to ride you...ride your fucking dick...mmm baby get on this counter and let me ride that cock." With one more kiss the switch happened, Damien pulling out of paradise and climbing on top of the counter while Camila got on top and was ready to guide them both back into paradise.
"Oh fuck this is good fucking cock," she hissed as she sunk back down on him. She leaned back, hands planted on the marble counter top and began to lift and slam her sopping pussy down on Damien's hot rod. "Oh god yes!"
"Oh fucking Hell Cami!" Damien grunted, and not just from the immaculate sensations of her tight pussy gripping and sliding up and down his shaft but watching her as she did it. The way she moved, the way her face looked as she moaned and how the light made her glisten from the sweat on her body. The the look of sexy, knowing confidence when she would slow down her ride to grind on his cock was otherworldly for the few seconds he could watch it before shutting his eyes tight and rolling his head back.
"Fuck yeah you like that pussy huh?" she asked as the ride picked up once more. "SO good...does it feel as good as it tasted baby? Does it?"
"Fuck yes!" he growled in response, getting a lustful laugh that turned into an even lustier moan from the Latina lovely. She threw herself forward, grasping his face and kissing him deeply, tongues intertwining. Damien's hands then roamed Camila's body once more, roughly caressing her back and ass before gripping her hips tightly and thrusting up into her.
"Fuck fuck fuuuuuuuck!" she cried out, her voice bouncing like she was riding down a bump road. She gripped Damien's should tight, her nails digging in as her eyes did a slot machine roll to the back of her head. Her tongue slithered form her mouth, licking at his lips before his own stuck out as well, the two licking at each other in a duel of flesh that once more ended in starved kiss.
Camila rode his rod for a few more minutes before she found herself with her feet on the tiled floor of the kitchen and bent over the counter with Damien behind her, deep inside and buttering her biscuit. Her hands were planted against the hard surface giving Camila just enough bracing to push back and meet her lover thrust for thrust. Of course, that wouldn't be enough for for her. She looked at him over her shoulder, her long sweat-soaked locks whipping through the air. She stared at him, almost enough to break down his walls completely. That was just the first ingredient though. The added spice when she began to twerk on his cock, making Damien freeze in place from what she was doing to him.
"Shit!" he yelled as he spanked her jiggling bum. "Holy fucking shit Cami!"
"Yeah feels so fucking good doesn't it?" she teasingly asked. "Bet you want to cum...but I don't want that...not yet...I got something in mind for that cum...it's my cum...just...just fucking me baby...don't..nnng...don't stop."
"Don't plan on it," he replied before reaching forward and pulling Camila up so her back was to her chest. Her kissed her, starting with the tattoo on her left shoulder up to her neck and finally once again meeting her lips, all while he continued to push into her, though at a much slower pace. "Bet you wanna cum too."
"Uh huh," she said with an opened mouth smile and a nod. He brought his fingers to her lips, letting the brunette vixen suck on them before dragging them down her fit body until her arrived at her pussy. "Oh!" she exclaimed, melting into him as he began to playing with her clit while his pace increased. "Yessss...mmmm so good...wanna cum for you...make me cummmm..."
With one hand joining his cock at Camila crotch the other remained at her breasts, rolling her nipple in between his fingers and holding her tight against him. Faster he drove into her and louder and more desperate her cries became.
"Ahhhh...ah yess...gonna cum..cum for you...for your cock...nnnng yesssss!!!!" Once more a cry of pure pleasure echoed throughout Camila's house, her body absolutely racked with pure satisfaction. He breathing went from open mouthed gulps to clenched teeth hisses, her lips turned up in a smile. Once last time, fighting through shockwaves of pleasure as she worked her convulsing cunt on Damien's pulsing piston.
"You wanna cum now?" she asked, her voice in a dreamy haze. "Because I want it, I want your cum!"
"Fuck ...fuck yes," he growled and no sooner did the words leave his mouth than did Camila depart his cock and get to her knees, sucking his cock into her hungry mouth and now making him get lost in the same dreamy haze she found herself in.
There was no teasing, no slow build-up, Camila was merciless. She didn't just want him to cum, she needed him to cum. Every skillful and savage lashing of her tongue, every quick deep throat, all with the same goal of getting every drop of cum to empty from his balls all for her. And judging from how his cock was pulsing and throbbing in Camila's mouth and the way the tone of his moans had changed Camila knew she was going to get it soon.
"Cum on my face," Camila demanded of him, her gaze shaking him to core with her fist a blur on his pulsing cock. "Give me your frosting, that special recipe. I want to taste it...frost my face...cover me..."
"Shit cumming cumming now Camila cumming!!!" Damien cried out, taking his cock from Camila's grasp and firing ropes of of his white hot jizz all over her face, giving the Brazilian beauty the icing she'd been begging for.
"Yessss," she said as the warm cum coated her face. Words ended as she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to get a taste of Damien's fresh frosting before wrapping her lips around the tip to suck the rest out direct from the tap. She released him with a pop and said "Mmmm, I think that might be the best thing you've made." she said with a devilish grin and she cleaning her dripping face off with her fingers and tongue.
"You provided a taste sensation yourself," Damien replied, catching his breath. "Care to share the recipe?"
"I think I could be convinced," she said as she rose to her feet. "Besides, I think you could show me a few more things...like how to make the perfect midnight snack and breakfast in bed. But first, I think a little clean-up is necessary, don't you?"
"Of course, just proper kitchen etiquette."
"Then follow me," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the shower. “After all, the most important thing about any recipe was making sure the ingredients are fresh and clean.”
"Looking forward to it."