I giggled as I squirmed out from underneath his arms and tumbled out of bed. Chad caught me around my waist just as I was standing up and pulled me back into bed with him. I pressed the full length of my body against him and luxuriated in his warmth and his once-again hardening cock. I sighed, and contemplated not going anywhere, but rather cuddle up, nibble his ear and whisper about all the naughty, filthy things I wanted to do to him that night.

But there were other concerns to be addressed.

"Where are you going?" he asked and flashed a sheepish grin at me. He had originally came to pick me up from my apartment and take me out for a night on the town, beginning with drinks and dinner at that latest trendy restaurant. When I opened the door and he saw me in my favourite cocktail dress, a kiss hello became a full-blown attack on all my senses. Needless to say, that dress is now on my bedroom floor, along with all the lace I was wearing underneath.

I propped myself up onto one elbow and looked at him. His body radiated with satisfaction, the kind of glow you only get from a really great fucking. I smiled to myself as I ran my fingers up his sheet-covered thighs and torso and drew a sigh from his lips. I buried my face his neck, taking in his masculine musk and bit him, ever so gently, on the shoulder.
"I'm hungry" I whispered in his ear, and laughed as I once again rolled out of bed, taking the dress shirt he was wearing as I did and throwing it on as I padded towards my kitchen.

Cooking naked was a bad idea.

By the time he walked into the kitchen, the water was already on the boil and I was chopping at the counter - the pancetta had to be broken down to little strips- lard ons, before I threw them in the pan and apply heat to releasing their warm, salty nectar and add a splash of the wine.

He strolled in, confident at his nakedness, and brushed his lips against my neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt my knees go weak again – as he had discovered over the course of the night that when he does that it goes straight to my clit and makes me wet. I closed my eyes, and leaned into him for a few seconds, absorbing the sensation.

"What are you making? Smells good…" Chad mumbled into my neck. I ignored the question, opened the package of spaghetti, and dropped it in the pot of bubbling water. Six minutes.

As I cracked eggs, grated Parmesan, ground pepper and added just a touch of cream, I could feel his hands roaming my body. One hand on my breast, squeezing and playing with my nipple. The other brushing over my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I bit back a groan, and with shaking hands poured him a glass of the wine in hopes of distracting him until I was done- timing is sensitive at this point. I poured a glass too to distract me from his beautiful, hard cock.

"It's… it's a Riesling. 08', from Fielding." I mumbled. He smiled, a wicked, knowing smile. He took a sip of his wine, and kissed me. The bright, honeyed wine swirled between our lips and our tongues. His cock pressed against my belly as he put a hand on either side of my face, and kissed me harder.

I tilted my head back and allowed him to ravage my lips further, and felt his hands stroking my thighs and cupping me to him. I run my hands up and down his strong arms as I slowly kissed them in turn.

With some reluctance, I broke the kiss. Six minutes was up. I drained the pasta and dumped it in the pan with the pancetta, then add the egg and cheese and cream, turning humble ingredients into a luscious, velvety masterpiece.

I grabbed the wine glasses and the wine, forks and spoons, and gestured for him to follow me back to the bedroom with the pan. I had, once again, made way too much for two people. So what? We'll just work up an appetite for the leftovers later.