"Danisha! Darling, where are you? I've brought a lovely little
treat..."
Judge Claude Frollo, his tall slender black-clad form sauntering merrily
through the entry hall, called out to his post-modern lady, the one named
Danisha. "My love! Why aren't you...?"
There was no response, and Claude became rather agitated. She said
she'd be here...she seldom breaks a date with me unless...
He espied a note on the little table near the front door. Lucky man!
What timing! Claude Frollo smiled as he read these words:
Dearest Claude,
I had to return home. I forgot I had to bake all this stuff for the school carnival.
Why don't you make that time trip. I'm all alone and up to my elbows in bread dough.
The coffeepot's on and I could use the company.
Love and Kisses,
Nisha
His Grace smiled even broader as he ran his tongue over his lips
in anticipation. He could feel that unmistakable rumbling deep in his groin
as he visualized his lovely post-modern New World lady in her kitchen,
all hot and sweaty. Claude Frollo reached into his pocket and extracted
that device, that wondrous transtemporal device. He took a deep breath
then depressed that red button at once. In a split second, he was engulfed
in a bright white light.
Take me to my delicious honeyed lady...and to that little paradise...
The rain pattered against the window and the cold wind whistled
through the branches of that old oak. Claude Frollo, in the cozy confines
of his beloved's kitchen, sipped hot strong coffee and enjoyed a freshly
baked cinnamon bun whilst watching Nisha manipulate the bread dough. The
conversation was casual but would soon escalate into hot passionate words.
His Grace sweetly commented, "Nisha, I've never set foot in a kitchen in
my entire youth...However, I do make that exception when visiting you...This
room, so full of warmth and love..."
His voice trailed off as he watched the way her body moved as she kneaded
the dough back and forth. He could feel his passion growing as his eyes
drank in her beauty. The bobbing breasts, the contracting and flexing muscles
of her arms. Then there was the hair, that glorious dark mane tied back
into a neat ponytail with only a single lock dangling in her face. She
occasionally blew the hair out of the way but it was of no use.
"Never fails, sugarbritches. The hair just won't behave." Claude Frollo
laughed as his senses took in everything: the sights, the scents. Heady
tropical notes of cinnamon and vanilla wafted throughout the room. His
Grace moved closer to his lady as she transferred the dough from board
to bowl. He stood oh-so close to her as she unwrapped yet another mound
of cookie dough. Ooh! Ahh! The sweet scent of chocolate permeated Claude
Frollo's senses as he breathed in Nisha's personal scent -- a dangerous
mixture of spice and musk.
"My love, perhaps -- ahem -- taking a break is in order. Darling...you mustn't tired yourself so..."
She felt his warm breath upon the nape of her neck; she felt his fingers
lightly kneading her supple arms. He sniffed her hair with a fetishist's
hunger. Oh, even her hair, her skin, her clothes...sweet heavenly scents
of the kitchen. "Claude! Not right now...I have to get this stuff ready..."
To Frollo, her protests were not that convincing. Danisha wanted to
jump him as much as he couldn't resist hurling her to the floor and ravishing
her with relish. His hands traveled to her breasts, cupping those delicious
38D melons while slowly and insolently grinding his pelvis against her
plump bottom. Danisha, shaping cookie dough into neat little balls, soon
matched his rhythm but wanted to take this passion play one step further.
She felt the sudden hardness -- Honestly, the man's always on automatic...
It's the cooking...Men are always turned on by scents from the kitchen. I guess it has to do with home and domestic bliss... I knew he'd do this...Always when I'm baking he gets soooo horny...
"Claude...Oh yeah baby...Yes!", she murmured under her breath as she
reached for a wad of gooey chocolate chip cookie dough. She turned to face
him, then, without warning, smeared the dough onto his face then proceeded
to lick it clean! "Nisha!," said Claude Frollo somewhat unnervedly. "What
are you doing...?"
The feel of her wet tongue and hungry lips upon his face sent Claude
into a fit of frenzied squirming lust. Not wanting to end this 'food-and-sex'
game, Claude Frollo, upon espying a bowl of chocolate butter cream, reached
over and dipped his fingers into the bowl. Imagine Nisha's surprise when
Claude smeared sweet and buttery, rich and chocolately icing onto her neck
and cleavage. Then he proceeded to lick every bit from her honeyed skin.
"Mmm...Claude...Mmm..", she moaned as he continued to lick icing from
her skin whilst undoing the buttons of her shirt. Within moments the shirt
was off and Claude Frollo smeared even more icing onto her breasts. "Oh,
this is such good eating...", he moaned as Nisha wriggled and wheeled herself
against his hardening genitals as she undid his fly.
Her movements were too quick for him; this wasn't quite what he expected
-- a romp in the kitchen. In reaction Claude Frollo felt himself tumbling
Nisha back against the worktable; the canister of powdered sugar and bag
of cocoa spilled onto the floor. Danisha gasped in surprise; her grip on
her man relaxed as she tried to upright herself. But Frollo, sensing one
of 'those' lovemaking sessions, grasped his beloved by the waist and held
her fast.
"Claude, what the...? This place is a mess...Claude?!"
Without warning and to her utter shock, he wrestled her to the sugar-streaked floor. His hands deftly unzipped her blue jeans while she reciprocated with a few dry thrusts. The feel of his pelvis locked in her powerful thighs -- And I have yet to enter her! -- thrilled the medieval judge to no end. Within moments they managed to strip each other while their lips, tongues, and limbs intertwined, preparing the way for a romantic rendezvous never before experienced.
They rolled and writhed their in ritualistic coupling; partially
naked, sweaty bodies merged with each other. Those bodies, and what few
articles of clothing that remained, were covered and stained with sugar
and cocoa, with cream and cinnamon. It was a strange, bizarre site -- The
staid and austere Minister of Justice, the seemingly picture perfect image
of denial and repression, his pale skin smeared with dark brown cocoa...Danisha,
the postmodern African American woman who so many years ago unleashed that
passionate, lusty beast within, her own heavenly honey brown skin streaked
with sticky sugar and flour.
During this moment of passion, she didn't care that her kitchen was
now a mess. She didn't care that it would take her a good part of the evening
to put things back in order. All she wanted right now was her man, on top
of her, inside her. And he was all over -- His tongue and fingers explored
every inch of her body. She felt his lips on her mound, then his tongue
burrowing itself deep inside. "Yes, Claude! Give it to me! Make me come!"
Her hands tangled in his cocoa-stained hair while she drank his sweet
salty sweat that collected on his brow. Thank goodness Claude had the sense
to suddenly change positions, sixty-nine fashion, so she could reciprocate
the pleasure he was giving her. And that mouth took him -- every last hardened
inch of his engorged penis. Oh the joys, thought His Grace, of feeling
myself trapped between her lips...
"My Nisha, my sweet Nubian princess...Oooh, just one more tender taste..."
Claude Frollo nibbled on her swollen clitoris, exciting her so much
that she returned the favor with a rapid tonguing on the glans tip. Damn!
It took much fortitude on Claude's part not to come -- Not Now! Yet the
sensations within waged an insistent battle with Claude's indomitable will.
Not this time! Oh, my mind and body always fight each other, never to agree...
He maneuvered her so she was now astride him; then he rammed himself
up inside her tight "snapping turtle" vagina. She clamped down on him immediately;
he always craved that, that viselike grip from which there was no escape.
"Oh! Ah! My love..."
Claude moaned as his body heaved and thrust under her graceful rhythmic
movement. She rode him as if he was a bucking bull -- "Just like Debra
Winger did in Urban Cowboy...You remember, sugar...we watched it one time
and you said...'Let's try that sometime'..."
Up and down, back and forth. Her hands stroked and caressed his glowing
ivory-toned skin, leaving behind tracks of cocoa mixed with perspiration.
What she did next excited Claude even more; she actually licked his flavored
sweat from her fingertips. Then, lifting his body to meet hers, Claude
slowly and insolently dragged his lips over her sugar-streaked breasts
-- "Mmm...tastes so sweet..."
Nisha responded with a sudden roll onto her back, her thighs still
entrapping the man she loved. Her legs locked around his slender waist;
she drew his head deep within her ample bosom. Now, in a grip so tight
that he felt as if she was preparing to squeeze every drop of semen from
him, Claude's body finally seemed so say, "No way!" to his mind. No holding
back, no 'hang fire'. It's now or never; that moment when a man just has
to come! A wild groan emerged from deep within, a sound so primeval it
was almost disconcerting.
"Oh Claude, you are so good!", he heard her say as he sensed the spiral
of HER climax. It was odd, he thought that here, in this room now in disarray,
how he and she merged into one, and how those senses seemed to come together
only to erupt into frantic, unrestrained passion.
"...Ahhh, Claude! Oh baby...!"
"Uh! Nisha...can't stop...Grip me! Give it to me!"
That ever-tightening feeling deep within his loins finally burst forth; his rock-hard penis swelled and danced inside her. Nisha, in the full throes of orgasm, thrashed and arched under his relentless pounding; her thighs tightly gripped his rapidly thrusting pelvis even more. She screamed his name over and over; he bellowed his pleasure -- that deep, primeval testosterone charged voice proudly proclaiming the thrill of his climax. Danisha slammed her grinding pelvis against his, prolonging the height of passion. Claude Frollo, not wanting to end this moment of ecstasy, managed to wedge his fingers against her mound, finally finding that 'secret of joy' then pressing down hard on the clit.
"OH DAMN IT, BABY! FREAK ME! AAAAHHH!"
Never before had she reacted that intensely; never before had he enjoyed
tasting those sugar-stained lips. It's this session...the thrill of the
senses...touching, smelling, tasting the sweet stickiness...Oooh, the exotic
aromas of cocoa and cinnamon...Like my lady herself: dark, mysterious,
complex....
With a few final thrusts, Claude at last erupted within her, sending
forth that precious seed. They lay there, on that messy floor, for a while,
holding on to each other, panting and moaning like animals in heat. It
was good, he later told her, "Good to the last drop."
Claude and Danisha, still on the floor but now sitting upright, shared
a few cookies she had baked earlier that morning. She surveyed the mess
they had made and decided to clean later. His Grace, eyeing this overwhelming
untidiness, finally admitted, "My love, I'm so sorry...I simply got carried
away, what with the sight of you, the delightful aromas...."
They stared at each other for several long moments, each surveying
the other's state of disarray. Claude's slim ivory body, naked except for
an open shirt, sported alternate streaks of brown and white from the cocoa
and sugar. His gray hair was plastered with perspiration and the remains
of cookie dough. Danisha, running fingers through her hair, was surprised
to find it caked with cocoa and sugar. Cinnamon and flour accumulated under
her usually neatly manicured nails, her skin sticky with the mingling of
sweat and icing.
After a long pause, both felt their mouths twitch into smiles, finally
bursting with loud raucous laughter. They immediately fell into each other's
arms, rolling and rocking with merriment. "Oh, Claude," said Nisha, "don't
worry about the kitchen; I can get this mess cleaned up...But, sugarbritches...Oh
my goodness, look at you!"
Claude Frollo's deep throaty laughter reverberated throughout the kitchen
as he helped his postmodern lady to her feet. "Ah well, no matter," he
said lovingly as he took her in his arms. He planted upon her lips a long
lingering kiss then expressed that future erotic encounters, will be "less
messy..."
She returned the kiss, saying, "Claude, I like the spontaneity; that's
what makes everything so wonderfully intense.Once and a while we need to
do something so silly..."
Once again examining the current state of their appearance, she added,
"I think a shower is in order -- Ummm, you do remember that one time we
took a shower together..."
That said, the Minister of Justice took his lady by the hand and prepared
to lead her up the backstairs. Just then the telephone rang, but Nisha
insisted, "Let it ring. honey, I have the voice mail on. Let's go get cleaned
up..."
So while Claude and Nisha were busily 'coming clean', someone left this
message on her voice mail:
Nisha, this is your sister calling. I know you're home 'cause Momma said you're baking today and...Wait a minute! Since when do you put on the voice mail; you're home all day...
(little pregnant pause here)
OOOOHHH, DANISHA!! Girl, you so bad... and so's Claude...Getting some of that...ahem..."Sexual Healing", eh? Hope you at least fed him *raucous laughter* some cookies 'n' milk!
THE END
Hope you liked that slice of -- ahem -- Homebaking! Now,
please click HERE
for a recipes. Nothing like chocolate to put you and your man
in the mood! And these are really tasty with a nice hot cup of vanilla-cinnamon flavored coffee.
Copyright ©1999 by PRP
