Chapter 7

Zoe

"I insist," I smiled back. Not too sure whether the smile came out the way I intended, but I was pretty sure that it didn't matter. It didn't last very long anyway, was swept away when I bent towards Ann and kissed her. Finally I pulled back the sheets and got out of bed. Knowing that Ann was watching me I gave my ass an extra wiggle as I headed for the bathroom, but wasn't bold enough to give her a provocative look across my shoulder.

For a second I thought of a short moment the previous day, when I had come back from the kitchen, a glass of cold water in each hand, seeing and feeling Ann's eyes on my naked body, her eyes having that look again. The same look she had had when she had photographed me and I knew that she would have loved to photograph me right then, face still flushed, hair tousled and my sex probably glistening. I wondered whether she felt the same insecurity as I did. Whether she too was afraid to destroy something by opening herself completely or by going too fast at this stage. Whether she, unlike me, could open herself completely already. Or whether she knew that I just needed more time.

And for a tiny fraction of a second a small part of me had been tempted to tell her to go ahead and do what she obviously wanted to do; pick up the camera, shoot pictures of me naked, let me see myself in this intimate moment the way she saw me. But I hadn't. Not then. Instead I had gone down on my knees and immersed myself in her, filled all my senses with her, filled all her senses with herself too until she lay spent on the sofa.

Later, in the kitchen, hair still damp from the shower, rummaging through cupboards too see what I could cook, I thought that if all went well one day I would want to cook Capuns with Ann. Mostly because Capuns is my all time favorite dish. It tastes great and it evokes wonderful memories of full kitchens with all the right smells, our family working together, because cooking Capuns all on your own is an endless and boring task. You need company.

But also because Capuns is slow food at its best. It takes hours, from whipping the dough to folding the chard carefully until sprinkling the grated cheese on the finished dish. I knew I'd enjoy sharing this with Ann.

And, finally, there's a saying... , well, maybe it isn't really a saying, maybe it was just one of Nana's wisdoms. Anyway, she used to say that when a girl invites a man to cook Capuns together, that means she's ready to marry him. I didn't want to marry Ann, but I hoped nevertheless that one day we would be cooking Capuns together.

But ingredients are just as crucial as company when preparing Capuns and I needed to bring them from Switzerland. Therefore I stuck to what I knew best, which was pasta. I busied myself while Ann sat at the kitchen table, naked as I was, nursing a cup of Earl Grey, her eyes never leaving me. Once in a while I turned towards her and smiled, a few times I bent over the table to steal a kiss, although she never objected so stealing probably isn't very accurate, but we didn't talk. Ann was busy watching me, I was busy thinking.

I had seen that look again. And it had got me thinking. About her job, about the pictures she had taken, about where we were heading, about what I wanted and expected. I wasn't looking for answers, just trying to get my feelings sorted. All I knew was that I was curious about a lot of things. Being curious comes with being a scientist, I guess. Or rather, being a curious person was a prerequisite to be a scientist.

"Zoæ, love? Are you alright?" Ann's voice brought me back to the present and I realized that I had stopped chopping the onion and had been lost in thoughts.

"Yes," I answered. "Yes, I'm alrighter than ever before." Sometimes a wrong comparison is just the perfect word. And when I saw her face light up and smile that wonderful smile at me, I knew that sometimes the time might not be right yet but it the moment is still perfect.

And so I stopped chopping, started to head to the living room, past the table, stopped, looked at Ann looking at me, decided that a detour onto her lap couldn't do any harm, straddled and kissed her passionately. The kiss developed into much more. Hands held, fingers teased, lips sucked until both her thighs and the seat of the chair were slippery wet.

My face buried in the crook of her neck I whispered "I love you, Ann. I love love love you," before I got up again, her words reaching me on my way to the living room and echoing in my head when I returned. "I love you too, Zoe."

No words were needed as I handed Ann her camera.

Ann

I sat there at the table, camera in hand, my thighs slick with her wetness, my wetness, our wetness.

Zoe had resumed her work at the counter, chopping onions, glancing at me, her body tense, holding herself poised, beautiful yet wrong. Willing? Yes certainly. Expectant? very much so. Contrived? Absolutely. Camera in one hand I reached down, beneath the table, between my thighs, one finger scooping up our juices, lifting my finger to my lips, watching Zoe watching my tongue lick my finger clean.

Licking my lips I winked and reached for more, Zoe caught between watching me, preparing ingredients and wanting to join me. It did not take long for temptation to become undeniable, as Zoe approached I coated my finger once more, holding it up to her hungry lips, lips that sucked it clean then sealed themselves to mine, soft yet demanding, I fleetingly wondered if we were capable of a simple chaste kiss on the lips, probably not.

Sometime later Zoe hopped off my lap and with a mock sigh and a hideously fake scowl, she moved back to the counter and continued her preparations, now no longer conscious of the forgotten camera. Now I could begin.

Twisting the zoom as I lifted the camera, I cradled it in my hands upon the table, not raising it to my eye, but relying on my view of the screen to compose each shot;

The round mixing bowl, it's shape echoing the curve of a breast, the pink nipple erect.

The chopping board a riot of colour, seen framed by the soft curve of a hip and the crook of an elbow.

Glossy auburn hair cascading down the smooth skin of her back.

A three-quarter view of that perfect ass, the deep cleft bisecting the perfect firmness.

On and on, each shot highlighting a single part of her, proof of the cameras love for her, each a picture of beauty, not sexual, not coarse, sensual.

"Everything is ready, when would you like to eat?" Zoe stood before me, a picture of natural grace, no longer self-consciously hiding her charms, the twinkle in those emerald pools blatantly exploiting the double entendre.

Laying the camera down I caught her uninjured wrist. "Not quite everything," I replied, pulling her towards me, keeping her off balance as I stood and pulled her with me as I headed towards the bedroom.

"Oh goody..." An exclamation that dissolved into giggles, cut short when I bypassed the bed and pulled her into the bathroom... "What... ?"

Hands on her shoulders, taking care not to put pressure on her injured arm, I pressed down firmly, seating her on the padded stool besides the double basin. "Be quiet, be still, the Maitresse is at work."

Taking a flannel I soaked it under the hot tap, then thrust it between her legs, parting them forcefully as I smiled and winked at her, her answering smile warm but tinged with apprehension, which grew as I took a pair of hairdressing scissors and knelt before her, my hand on her sex, the scissors poised. I looked up, "Say good-bye to the jungle." Her only reply a nervous smile and a single nod. Carefully I snipped away, trimming, exploring, studying her sex as the scissors revealed it to me.

It is amazing how few women ever take the time to study their own sex, every other part of their body gets checked, critiqued, hidden or flouted, but few, even amongst those who enjoy the taste, few examine their pussies. Yet just like every other part, the range is vast, the subtle variations unique. Just as with bodies, some are at their best when dressed, others look more beautiful in skimpy attire, some look good naked. A few, a fortunate few, look good regardless. Zoe's pussy was one of them.

I took my time working the soapy lather into her skin, another hot flannel had prepared her, now she sat gripping the edges of the seat, legs splayed wide, squirming as my fingers massaged her sex, my smile wide, an evil thought nudging my consciousness, time for a little test...

When I opened the old fashioned straight razor her eyes grew huge, lips parted, poised to protest, eyes searching mine, hardening, piercing. Yet she kept her legs spread, thighs tense but unmoving ... I winked and closed the razor, laying it aside to take up the multi-bladed man's razor, "gotcha... !!" I grinned and set to work, fingers manipulating her folds as I carefully shaved her beautiful pussy. Leaving only a small neat triangle of trimmed hair above her slit. She blushed almost scarlet when I lifted her legs up, still spread, feet on my shoulders as I sent the razor deep into the cleft of her ass, seeking out every last hint of hair.

Another hot flannel to wipe away any traces of the soapy foam, then my fingers began to work the soothing oil into her sex, my fingertips massaging, working the oil well in, circling her rosebud brought forth a squeak as fresh juices seeped out between her lips, I too could not totally restrain myself...

"I think dinner is cooked." I smiled, "I'd better check." So saying I bent forward, my tongue slipping into her heat, pressing inside, my mouth closing over her now naked sex, the sensations enhanced. Her feet slipped from my shoulders, ankles locking behind my back as her hands pulled my head closer, a single moan of pure ecstasy echoing around the tiled room, seemingly endless, emptying her lungs as my tongue filled her cunt.

One arm wrapped around her hips, the other busy between her legs, thumb and fingers intent on assisting my mouth in the total devastation of Zoe. At first she pulled me closer, then she held on for support, finally she could take no more, senses overloaded as my tongue and teeth tormented her, lips engulfing, fingers impaling, thumb rubbing, exerting just the pressure needed to fling her headlong into the abyss and drive her down, deeper than ever before. Deeper than her overloaded body wanted to go at first, then on and on, until she surrendered herself utterly, not only to my mouth, but to her own capacity to cum, over and over again.