Messy Love (Wake Up #4)

I was sort of inspired by a dear friend of mine, who does a bit of baking on the side. He also happens to be an excellent wordsmith, and I admire him from top to toe. So, this is for him. Hope he likes it, and hope you like it.


His house smells like a bakery.

A very chaotic and messy bakery at that. I’d noticed it when I came in, in the early hours of this morning. His counter had a coat of flour and dough sticking to it. There were several cakes and pies cooling on the kitchen table. And he tasted like the frosting on the brightly colored cupcakes he fed me in bed that night.

We made messy love on his counter top. Against his doorway, with bits of dough sticking to our hands and the sweetest sugar on his lips. In his bed. His warm and soft bed, where I still found myself at midday.

I was roused by another smell, this time the distinct scent of fresh croissants in the oven. 

Tiptoeing my way towards the kitchen, I inhaled deeply. Fuck, I forgot to ask him. Is he actually a baker?

If he was, he’s an unconventional one, for sure.

I found him in his kitchen, naked apart from an apron with the time-honored favorite “Kiss the Chef” emblazoned in swirly red letters on it. I couldn’t help giggling my arse off.

“I can not believe I’ve found the actual Naked Chef.” I said, as he turned, blushing pink all over. 

“Hi. Yes. Right. I’m naked and I’m baking, so I’m a chef. Right!”

His sudden attack of nerves was quite cute. Last night, he seemed like the pinnacle of self-confidence, from the first words in the bar to the last kiss in the bed. But now, he was all shy. I didn’t blame him. I’d be blushing down to my arse too if I was caught baking naked by an equally naked person.

“Good morning. Did you manage to get some shuteye?”

“I did. You’ve got a lovely bed.”

“Thank you. Ehm… these should be ready soon. D’you like them with butter?”

“Oh, yes, definitely!”

“Good, good.”

He fell silent, and seemed to be concentrating more on the hazy light in the oven than on me.

“Are you alright, Simon?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Really, fine. Fit as a fiddle. It’s just that I don’t often get a beautiful naked woman watching over me in my kitchen. Should we have sex now, should we wait for the croissants and eat…. I don’t know. Your nakedness confuses me.”

I giggled again.

“How about I just watch you for now? We could take advantage of our naked status later on.”

He smiled. “Good. You are stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you. You’re hot.”

Nothing more was said. I sat down on a kitchen chair and watched as he frosted, baked, grinned and joked with me. 

And I hoped that later on, we’d make more messy love.


Leave a comment

Whisper to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: