[dutifulrose] - Salad Dressing
I was on the verge of deciding that the book I was reading was not worth finishing when I heard Emma’s scream. It wasn’t a scream, exactly—more of a gasping cry. I hastened from the couch to the kitchen, where Emma was staring at the screen of her laptop on the counter.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Oh. Yeah, yeah.” Emma did a sort of smirk-snort.
“It’s nothing. I was just surprised is all.”
“Surprised about what?”
Emma swiveled her laptop. On the screen was a picture of a rather attractive naked woman with a large cucumber stuffed well into her vagina.
“In the shower I was thinking about trying a differing kind of salad. So I threw on my gown and did a recipe search while the idea was fresh,” Emma explained.
“Stuff from our garden.”
I did a quasi-snort of my own.
“What?” Emma asked.
“Stuff. The operative word. Garden stuff.”
“Right,” Emma said, perhaps mildly amused.
“Well, it looks like an interesting recipe,” I said.
“What’s the cooking time?”
“You’re stretching things,” Emma said.
“The operative word being stretching. But really, does this turn you on?”
I took too long to answer.
“Okay,” Emma said. She closed the laptop lid.
The very next afternoon I was again on the couch, this time with a different book, somewhat more promising, when Emma called to me. My finger in the book so as not to lose my place, I made my way to the kitchen. Emma was lying on the kitchen counter. She was naked. In her hand was a carrot. It was quite large. She touched the tip of it to her hip.
“I thought maybe I would make a salad,” she said.
“Using stuff I just harvested from our garden. And that recipe from on-line.” The tip of the carrot caressed the slot of her sex.
“What do you think?”
I took too long to answer. The carrot pushed slowly into Emma’s cunt. Emma’s eyes never left mine as she fucked herself with the carrot. I lost my place in the book. I took the carrot from Emma’s hand. From Emma’s cunt. I replaced it, first with my tongue, then with my cock. Emma screamed. Not a scream, exactly. More of a gasping cry.
“That was nice,” she told me later.
“I especially love your salad dressing.”