Chapter 30: Z and Sam Part 2

MONDAY

I bought a steak, several potatoes, a bag of ready to serve salad, a box of milk and some wine. I left the groceries on Sam’s porch while I went next door to get the key. The neighbor lady was expecting me. I said, “Sam left a key for me.”

Neighbor lady (never got her name) had the key on a hook by her door. She handed me the key saying, “It’s really sad him losing Caroline like that. She was such a nice girl. You are so nice supporting him in his time of need.”

“I was as shocked as anybody. We had a good cry a few days ago. This is his first day back at work. I left groceries on the porch. I should be getting back. Thank you for holding the key for me.”

My fingers were crossed that Sam had what was needed to microwave potatoes and fry a steak. After looking at the kitchen as a cook, rather than a naked therapist, I realized that the kitchen had been setup by Caroline. I had everything needed to make dinner.

Did I just think therapist? Note to self: Sam should get help from a professional and not the hooker type.

Step 1 find salad dressing. Check. Step 2 check for moldy food. Check. Had to toss several gross items. Step 3 find a pan for steak. Check. Step 4 Salt and pepper. Check.

It was only 15:45. I had time for a quick shower. I put my street clothes back on.

I heard the garage door open at 16:35. I was standing by the side door when he opened it. We kissed, hugged and kissed some more.

“I have everything ready to cook. 15 minutes to eat if I start now. Would you like me to wear this ‘kiss the cook’ apron (then in a whisper) and nothing else?”

“And what should I wear?”

“Whatever you want. Wear what you have on now, get naked, or anything you like. Why not get a shower then decide what to wear.”

When I saw him next he was wearing a white dress shirt with only one button fastened. There was nothing under that shirt except Sam. My apron covered my boobs except for serious peek-a-boo from the side and whenever I moved. My butt was exposed, covered only by the apron tie ribbons.

His shirt looked like if (it had better be when) he gets an erection his manhood would pop right out.

I started the microwave for the potatoes and the stovetop for the steak. He wanted to hug. We hugged and kissed. I could feel a bulge growing between his legs. I warned, “We can’t take too long or we will have a problem. Nothing ruins a second date like a burned frying pan.”

The steak sizzled when I put it in the pan. Microwave beeped. Potatoes hot and hard. Turned ‘em over. Two more minutes at least. The bagged salad was ready to eat. Salad bowls full. “Sam, get out your favorite steak sauce and salad dressing.”

“Sure thing Caro ... I mean sure thing Z.”

He reached for a tissue to wipe tears. Seeing him sad like that brought tears to my eyes too.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t cut onions or we would be out of tissues for sure.”

I was surprised to hear myself saying that. But we both laughed so no harm, no foul, I guess.

The potatoes felt like they would be ready in another two-minute cycle.

When the steak was done I started slicing it. “Sam, I have a California Cabernet Sauvignon in the bag. Please find some glasses for us.” He did his best imitation of a high brow sommelier.

There was no sexy talk at dinner. Sam shared how his friends shared their sympathy. Awkwardly. But they at least tried.

“I’ll wash, you dry. And I don’t want to get this nice apron wet. Do you mind if I take it off?”

He answered with a smile. Taking his shirt off he said, “No reason this should get wet either.”

Both our garments hung over a single kitchen chair. Good. Hand dish wash was easy. Cleaned items went from dish drainer to cupboard as fast as I washed. All the time I was thinking hard (and getting a little worried) about what to suggest next. Sam solved my problem by asking me if I would like to dance. Z, you worry too much, girl.

He put on the same slow dance saxophone CD as last time. This time we danced closely, rather enjoying the closeness of our naked bodies. Other than close and nude we made no overtly sexual moves. He got a serious hardon but ignored it. I liked it when he brushed my pussy lips with his manhood. He wanted to dance and we did. We must have danced 6 tracks before I suggested we sit out the next track. I sat. He disappeared into the kitchen returning with our wine glasses refilled.

We sipped wine. We kissed. We sipped more wine. Sam hesitantly asked if I could sip this. He was pointing to his stiff dick. I gladly answered by licking a drop off the tip and kissing the shaft before putting it all in my mouth.

I was still going strong when Sam said thank you. The bj was over. He wanted to touch me. He wanted me to touch him. Slow sensual petting. Not orgasm inducing. Just slow, dare I say it, lovers touching.