Chapter 29: Dinner And Dessert

Peter pulled his new Jeep Grand Cherokee up to the curb outside Lauren’s house just as the door to the house opened. Just weeks ago, he had taken her over to the Jeep dealership to pick out his new company car. He told her that once they were married, she would be allowed to drive it; right now, the insurance wouldn’t cover her properly, since they weren’t married. She picked out a nice metallic blue model.

Peter soon enough had his doubts about the wisdom of this. The next day, Lauren snuck over to the dealership and gave a list of radio stations to the salesman to program into Peter’s radio. He normally listened exclusively to country and western music, while Lauren preferred pop and light rock. When he pulled up to her house that night, he asked, “What, you had to set everything to the Celine Dion network?” Lauren had laughed uproariously at that.

Obviously in a harried and exasperated mood, Lauren was attempting to hurry her two children out the door to the minivan, all three of them with arms loaded with sleeping bags and overnight bags. “What in the world is going on?” he asked curiously as he hurried over. He grabbed a sleeping bag out of Lauren’s arms before it had a chance to tumble into the slush in the driveway.

Both Jimmy and Holly started talking at the same time. Lauren looked as if she was about to explode, and cried out, “Quiet!” She yanked the sliding door to her van open and threw what remained in her arms inside, then helped Holly climb in.

Peter handed his fiancée the sleeping bag he had rescued, and she looked at him. “Thank you! Give me a minute and I’ll explain.” She stuffed Jimmy inside and slid the door shut.

“Listen, we are running so late it’s ridiculous, but I’ll be back. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in half an hour, maybe forty minutes.” She ran around to climb in the driver’s side door.

“Wait! What about dinner?” he asked.

“Whatever! Leftovers? Whatever you can find in the kitchen ... listen, got to go! The kids are going away for the night.” She scrambled into the van and took off out of the driveway.

Peter stared after them as they sped down the road, trying to imagine what was going on. It was early March, almost six weeks since he had proposed marriage to Lauren, and they had been planning a weekend at Lauren’s house with the kids. Now it looked as if it was just going to be them, and wheels started turning in his head. He climbed back into the Jeep and headed down to the grocery store.

It seemed to be a good night for a pleasantly romantic dinner, so he quickly moved through the aisles, picking up some shrimp and noodles and minced garlic, along with a pre-baked loaf of garlic bread that only needed to be heated up before serving. Shrimp scampi sounded like an excellent idea!

Peter let himself into the house with the key Lauren had given him after their engagement. Goldie immediately ran up to him and gave him a friendly ‘Woof!’ in greeting. “Hi girl, good girl,” he said, bending down to scratch her behind the ears. As soon as he had the groceries in the kitchen, she started pawing at the back door, so he let her out and tied her collar to the chain at the back of the house. It was too cold to stand outside watching her do her business.

Just after stepping back inside, Lauren came running through the door. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”, she called out as she scurried in. She looked around wildly for Peter, and when she found him, she ran over and threw herself into his arms. “I know I’m running late, but I can explain.”

“Will you calm down,” he said with a laugh. He rubbed his hands over her back and kissed her slowly. Pulling his lips back, he smiled and said, “Now, what is going on tonight?” A whining sound and more pawing at the door announced that Goldie was finished so Peter let Lauren go and let the dog back into the house. After bounding into the kitchen, she ran up to Lauren for a quick head rub, then romped away.

Lauren leaned back and threw her hands in the air. “Well, just before you came in, Holly announced that tonight was the night of Jessica Taylor’s birthday party and sleepover and she hadn’t told me, and we had to pack and go buy a present at Wal-Mart ... What a nightmare! So anyway, I got the idea, if she’s gone, get rid of the other, and I arranged a camping trip for Jimmy.”

“Camping? In this weather? It’s freezing out there!” Peter said, a horrified expression on his face.

“Oh, don’t worry, Jimmy and Bucky are going to be camping in the basement. I’m not that crazy. Not yet anyway.”

“So that’s two of them. Where’s Heather?”

Lauren smiled. “She’s staying with a friend tonight.”

“Oh?”

Lauren smiled slyly. “Be a good boy and I might tell you about it.”

“Hmmm, sounds interesting.”

“What’s for dinner? I’m sorry, honey, but I didn’t have time to shop or anything. Leftovers? Did you want to order in?” she asked.

Peter turned his love around and pushed her out of the kitchen. “Leave dinner to me.”

“What?” she stammered out.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and change or something. I’ll take care of dinner.”

She tried to peek over his shoulder, but he blocked her view. “Uh ... okay ... uh, how long is this going to take?” Peter looked at her curiously and she continued, “Well, would I have time to take a shower?”

Peter glanced at his watch. “Here’s the deal. Take as much time as you want. Shower, take a bath, whatever you want to do, just don’t come down here before...” He glanced at the watch again. “ ... seven on the dot.”

“What are you planning?” she asked suspiciously.

“Who me? Can’t I make a nice dinner for my gal?”

“You’re up to something,” she said, waving a finger in his face. “Just how fancy should I get dressed?”

“Well, let’s just say that you’re going to be dessert.”

Lauren grinned at that. “I like this meal already!” She turned and went up the stairs to her bedroom, followed by the golden retriever. Goldie only stayed a moment, though, before wandering off to her usual resting place, Jimmy’s closet.

There were elements of Lauren’s shower and dressing that went rapidly and some that went slowly. Closing the bedroom door, she quickly stripped off her work clothes and turned on the shower. The shower took almost no time, and little more was wasted on shaving her legs, arms, and pussy. Considerably more time was spent douching and giving herself an enema. Finally, with time running out, she found herself standing naked in front of her closet.

What to wear? Underwear would only get in the way ... short or long ... dressy or casual? Lauren could barely make up her mind. She was tempted to simply slip on some stockings and heels, but Peter was up to something downstairs, and she wanted to meet his expectations. Her eye caught a lacy black peignoir set and she pulled it out. Perfect! She pulled a pair of sheer black thigh high stockings out of her drawer and picked her black stilettos out of the closet. Dressed, she left her room and went down the hall, stopping to glance in at Goldie drowsing in her son’s room, and closed the door on the pet. Tonight, she didn’t need interruptions.

Downstairs, Peter pulled the bags out from under the kitchen table and opened them on the counter. It wouldn’t take long to cook, but he would have to hurry if he wanted it to look right. He set water to boiling on the stove and quickly set the dining room table. He lit a fire in the fireplace, then ran back to the kitchen. Olive oil, peeled shrimp, white wine, minced clams, oregano, butter, marinara sauce - all went into the skillet in the correct order. He quickly read the instructions on the loaf of garlic bread and put that in the oven to heat, then set up the carving board and bread knife. Bowls for the noodles and the scampi, another to hold the garlic bread. Finally, while the bread was in its final minutes and the noodles were draining, he ran around the living and dining rooms, turning off the lights. In their place, he lit votive candles that he had picked up at the store, set tidily, if not elegantly, on saucers.

He was carving the garlic bread when he heard Lauren coming down the stairs. “Peter, that smells absolutely heavenly! If I wasn’t already engaged, I’d marry you!”

“Stay right where you are,” he requested. “Don’t move. Let me just finish in here.” He poured the noodles out of their colander into a serving bowl, and poured the scampi into another, then moved them through the side door from the kitchen to the dining room. The garlic bread followed, along with, to Lauren’s surprise, a bottle of wine out of the freezer. Finally, he dimmed the kitchen lights and came over to where she waited in the foyer. When she asked him about the wine, he explained that he had found the bottle of Chianti in the closet and put it in the freezer for a quick chill. A second was outside the back door, cooling in the freezing temperatures of the late winter night.

“I’m so glad you could join us for dinner, Madame. Follow me, please.” Lauren giggled as Peter led her through the candlelit living room to the entrance of the dining room. “Allow me to take your jacket,” he said.

Lauren’s eyes opened wide at this, but she didn’t complain. She undid the tie holding the long and black satin robe together and allowed him to peel it off her arms. He tossed it aside and smiled at what was underneath. The gown that the robe had been covering was a beautiful black sheath, almost totally backless, held up by a pair of spaghetti straps that crossed over her shoulders and behind her back, leaving her arms and shoulders bare, and sweeping slimly down to her ankles. It was completely transparent.

“Such a lovely outfit. You should wear it more often,” he commented.

Lauren laughed. “Maybe to this restaurant, but not to very many others, I don’t think.”

“Very few others have our discriminating taste,” he replied with a laugh. He ushered her to her seat at the head of the table, then served her the noodles with a healthy helping of the scampi. Lauren reached out for her own bread.

They ate in silence for several minutes, though Peter frankly gazed at her breasts, so plainly visible through the sheer gown. Her nipples were painfully stiff, and he could feel his cock changing to that condition as well. Using the pretext of adjusting his napkin, he adjusted his cock.

“Peter, this is simply heavenly! When did you become such a good chef?” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes as she bit into a bite of bread coated with the scampi broth.

He looked at her curiously. “I’ve always been a good cook. I love food. How do you think I got to be so fat?”

“Peter, you forget, I’ve never known you fat.” He shrugged in silent agreement with this. “You have to admit, you’ve never cooked like this before for me.”

Peter snorted, then answered. “Most of the time when I’m cooking for you, it’s with the kids, and their idea of haute cuisine is cheese on their hamburgers. I’ve always been a good cook.” Lauren looked at him curiously, even as she helped herself to seconds. “Well, Mom and Dad are both excellent cooks, and I learned just watching them. Then in high school and college, all my summer jobs were in restaurants or food places. I’ve done everything - dishwasher, busboy, waiter, short order cook, pizza slinger - you name it, I’ve done it in a restaurant.”

“But why...”

He interrupted her. “First, because I’m a bachelor. I cook something like this at home, and by the time I finish it, it goes bad. I cook and end up throwing half away. Not much is sized for the single guy. Second, well, how do you think I got so fat in the first place?”

Lauren shook her head in amazement. “I have such a hard time imagining you as fat!”

He gave her a wry grin. “I hate to think about having to run around the block in the morning to work this meal off.”

Lauren wiped the last of the broth on her plate up with her roll. “Maybe we can see about working a few of those calories off you tonight.”

“Ah, that would be dessert, I believe.” He stood up but motioned for her to stay in place at the table. He quickly moved the dirty dishes to the kitchen then returned to his place. “Now, about dessert. Come here.”

Lauren stood and came around to where Peter was sitting. He smiled as he stood to look at her, then placed his hands on her shoulders. “I definitely think this will get in the way.” He gently took hold of the thin straps holding the gown up and pulled them to the sides, allowing the sheer nightgown to slide slowly down her body to the floor. Peter stared hungrily at her superb form, now clad in nothing but her stockings and heels, then placed his hands around her waist and lifted her effortlessly. Turning slightly, he placed her so that she was sitting on the edge of the dining room table, facing his seat. He promptly sat back down in his chair and spread her legs, then pulled forward. “This is better.”

“When do I get dessert?” quipped Lauren.

“Later,” he said, glancing up at her smiling face. She had a distinct aroma of aroused pussy, but Peter detected another scent, subtler, emanating from between her legs. Sniffing, he looked up and asked, “Strawberry?”

Lauren blushed but kept a straight face. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, not at all. Actually, it reminds me of this one story...”

Lauren looked down at him. “What?”

“Well, this fellow walks into this fancy French restaurant and tells the maitre`de that he had heard that this was the finest restaurant in Paris, and that money was no object. He was promptly seated and served course after course of delicious food. Finally, for dessert, the waiter suggested peche a la pousse. The customer had never heard of it but agreed.”

“I am afraid to ask...”

Peter waved her protests off. “So, the waiter comes back out with this absolutely beautiful blonde, stark naked, who crawls up on the table and lays flat on her back with her legs spread. Next, he pulls out a paring knife and a beautiful, ripe peach, which he then skins. Finally, he takes the peach and rubs it all over the blonde’s pussy and even inside, then sets it on a plate on the table. The customer immediately picks up his knife and fork and starts to carve up the peach, saying, ‘That peach really should be delicious!’ at which point the waiter cries out ‘ Non, non, monsieur! Le pousse! Le pousse!’”

“That’s awful!” protested Lauren, even as she was laughing.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that the strawberry scent arrived here a slightly different way,” he commented in reply.

“Maybe you can taste the difference,” she said in a purr.

Peter simply lowered his face and began eating her out. Lauren gasped and began orgasming practically immediately. Ever since Peter had taken her robe, leaving her to be watched throughout dinner almost naked, she had been extremely aroused. Peter’s tongue began tracing her pussy lips, and as soon as it flicked across her clit, she moaned and began shaking. Peter took his time, savoring her flavor, and enjoying the effect he was having.

Lauren could hardly think as her orgasm waxed and waned. She didn’t have several orgasms, one after another; instead, she rode the crest of a single, massive orgasm that went on and on. She was alternately shaking and quivering, laying back on the table panting, running her hands through the curls of his hair. Sometimes her legs were dangling over the side of the table limply, often they were wrapped around his neck, several times they were almost pointed at the ceiling as she spasmed in pleasure. Finally, after almost a half hour of cunnilingus, she weakly gasped out, “No more ... no more.” She sagged back on the dining room table, her eyes half shut, as she descended from the high of her ecstasy.

Peter took this moment to reach down and unzip his pants. Pushing them and his shorts down his thighs to the floor, he leaned back and allowed his stiff cock to point upwards. He reached up and took Lauren’s hands in his and pulled her upright. She still seemed partially dazed as he pulled her carefully from the tabletop and down onto his lap, her legs straddling his. She shuddered as her dripping cunt was lowered onto his erection, and she leaned forward, to wrap her arms around his back and cling to him as she began moving on him. “So good, so good,” she whispered, rocking on him, humping excitedly up and down.

“Oh, God, baby, it won’t be long, it won’t be long...” cried out Peter, almost complaining that he was so excited he would cum so soon.

“Cum in my pussy! Cum in my pussy!” she demanded. Lauren began bouncing on the cock in her pussy, rubbing her inflamed nipples across Peter’s chest. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Peter groaned and began spurting his cum upwards into Lauren’s demanding twat. She could feel his cock expand in those final moments, seeming bigger than ever before, and she could feel the muscular contractions and jets trying to lift her off his lap. She sagged against him, her cunt pulsating with each spurt of cum entering it.

The pair clung to each other as their breathing returned to normal, kissing each other as they came down off the orgasmic high. “Jesus!” exclaimed Peter.

Just then an insistent whining and barking from up the stairs intruded on their reverie. Lauren laughed and said, “I think someone wants out.”

“She’s your dog!” complained Peter.

Lauren laughed as she crawled off his lap and stood up. “I’m not really dressed for that.” She allowed her fiancé to pull his shorts and pants up, then directed him up the stairs.

Gold happily burst from Jimmy’s room when Peter opened the door, and Peter followed as the dog scampered down the stairs and into the kitchen. He slipped his loafers back on, then opened the back door and hooked the retriever up to the chain. He was about to come back in when Lauren stopped him. “You’d better grab some more firewood, honey.”