F5 Cooking It Up

(Author's note: This story is an entry into FAWC (Friendly Anonymous Writing Challenge), a collaborative competition among Lit authors. FAWC is not an official contest sponsored by Literotica, and there are no prizes given to the winner. Every story for this FAWC begins with the exact same line. Where it goes from there is up to the author.)

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"Upon the table lay three items: a handkerchief, a book, and a knife."

"Pardon?"

"That's the challenge. Write a story that starts like that."

"What challenge is this, Brian?"

"The one on that net story site."

"Hum. Explain."

"It's a place you can read sex stories for free. Lots of sex stories about all kinds of . . . sex." Brian smiled at Danford, who was reading the paper.

Danford looked over his reading glasses at him. "Are you telling me you read sex stories, on the Internet?"

"Yep, and write 'em."

"At . . . what is this place?"

"Literotica."

"Hum, and pray tell, what sort of stories do you write for them?"

"Hum. Gay stories." Brian was starting to see something dangerous in Danford's eyes and was thinking he should have kept quiet if he wanted to get any writing done. But the look was also arousing and inspiring.

"So . . . now you have to write a story that starts off with 'Upon the table lay three items: a handkerchief, a book, and a knife.' Well, I am intrigued to know what you plan to write that has that line and gay sex in it."

"I am still trying to work it out. It may be about a young chef. Maybe one with an older sugar daddy who finds him in his kitchen studying a recipe in some old cook book and comes up behind him and pushes his pants down off him and fucks him over the kitchen table."

"Interesting idea," Danford said, his hand moving discreetly to his lap. "Tell me more."

"Well it could be about a BDSM cellar and the master has those things on a table and the young novice asks what they are for." Brian frowned, seeing Danford's hand was slowing.

"Ahh."

"But I like the chef idea best."

"Mmm. I think I may also, Brian."

"Of course it's a busy kitchen and the hunky chef isn't alone. There is a young guy peeling potatoes off to one side who can see them. The sugar daddy has laid his folded clean handkerchief down on the table by the old cookbook so he can wipe his hands after he has stroked the cum out of the hunky young chef's cock. And the knife was set down; the chef was slicing mangoes when his sugar daddy arrived in he kitchen. The SD has a fetish for doing it in kitchens."

"Do these men have names, the chef, and the older man, and the other one," Danford asked in a husky voice, his hand busy again.

"Of course," Brian said with a smile, knowing Danford had a thing for certain men's names.

"The Chef is Xavier, he is a dark, hunky Latino. The sugar daddy is a WASP, of course, Brent, and the potato peeling young guy is another, but younger hunky Latino, Jesus."

"No, not Jesus."

"Um, Cesar? The young potato peeling guy is Cesar."

"Ahhhh, good names." Danford sighed, his fly now unzipped, with his cock emerging, looking for a stroke, which he was obviously going to give it. "So, continue with your story."

"Xavier had heard Brent arrive and put the knife down for safety and pretended he was still studying the book until Brent grasped his hips. Xavier let out a gasp and jumped in surprise. Brent's hands held him in place, though, before reaching around and undoing his pants and pushing them down his legs."

Brian lowered his voice and moved closer to Danford. "Then he lay a palm on Xavier's hard belly, making the young chef tremble with anticipation, as that was a favourite spot of his. A firm hand pressing on his belly and Xavier always got hard fast. Brent's other hand had pushed the briefs down and was now fisting Xavier's big meaty cock as Xavier leant back against Brent's chest and moaned. The moans were loud and from deep inside him. He was always hot for the way Brent worked him over."

Brian was now kneeling between Danford's spread thighs and doing some experienced stroking of the dick that had emerged from Danford's pants and was growing to a reasonable size under both men's attentions. Brian briefly covered it with his mouth and ran his tongue firmly around it, moving it in and out of his lips before returning to his story in a huskier voice. Danford was now panting and unbuttoning Brian's shirt and running his hands over the younger man's firm, well-muscled body.

Brian continued his story in an unsteady voice, having unzipped his own pants and Danford's hand having found the dick growing inside them. "Brent grabbed up the mango, which Xavier had been slicing up, from the table, wrapped it about Xavier's cock, and began to stroke him, rubbing the slippery, soft fruit over it and giving Xavier a high from the use of the food. Xavier had a fruit fetish, and if the fruit and its juice stung him a bit he possibly liked it even more."

Brian emitted a moan as Danford lightly squeezed his balls and pushed his pants down off him. "He—"

"He is who?" Danford asked huskily, not concentrating on what was being said as well as he needed to.

"Xavier, he is Xavier," Brian gasped, Danford being in the process of trying to get the tip of his pinkie into the hole in Brian's now very-stiff dick. "Xavier liked best plunging his big thick cock into the fleshy end of half a fresh ripe watermelon. Feeling the fruit break up and slip over him, as he pounded it. He could only do this in summer, though, in watermelon season and only outdoors. Brent objected to the mess it made inside, but he also found it arousing and always ended up taking Xavier from behind as Xavier was pounding the watermelon to a pulp. That was Xavier's idea of heaven . . .Oh. Yes." Brian was distracted by Danford's fingers entering his channel and reaching his prostate.

"More, Brian, please . . .continue," Danford moaned, removing his fingers so they could both calm down and returning to running his hands over Brian's now naked body.

"Xavier thought the mango was very nice too, the smoothness of it, firm at first, the tingle, the fruit quickly breaking up and falling away, the juice and pulp running down to his balls and dribbling down his naked thighs, until it was only Brent's moist hand wrapped about his now-engorged and throbbing cock. He leant back and turned his head so they could kiss, tasting traces of a good wine in Brent's mouth. Cesar was panting in the corner, the potatoes forgotten, as he stroked himself and silently begged the two men to get completely naked and fuck like wild beasts.

"His wish was soon granted. Brent dropped his pants and freed his own cock, before turning Xavier, who fell to his knees to worship it. Brent held the chef's head and rolled it about while he turned his face toward Cesar, and smiled lopsidedly. 'Cesar, strip,' he ordered, and in seconds Cesar had torn off his T-shirt and dropped his pants, all the clothing he wore. Brent was hard and throbbing and wanting to take control, so he pulled Xavier up and they kissed long and rubbed against each other before Brent turned himself and pulled Xavier about in front of him to face the potato peeler.

"'Cesar, your chef needs you to clean him up,' Brent said in a husky rough voice. Cesar moved forward, trembling, at the opportunity he was being given, and fell to his knees and licked and sucked the last traces of sweet mango from Xavier's pole. Then he cleaned the juice from his nuts and his tongue followed where it had run down Xavier's trembling thighs to his ankles. Xavier sighed and moaned as behind him Brent fingered his hole."

Brian wondered if Danford would be able to hold off fucking him until the end of the story.

"The sight of Cesar's bobbing head and naked back and behind, as he crouched before Xavier and licked, was an added arousal for Brent, who was now desperate to gain release inside Xavier. He roughly turned him to the table and worked his dick into the loose hole of the chef. Cesar moved sideways to get a better view of the fucking, stroking himself to a quick release, followed shortly by Brent's frenzied pounding of a moaning and begging Xavier's ass as he built his ejaculation, which only barely preceded Xavier's own."

Danford was looking with slitted eyes at Brian, who was on his back on the sofa with his legs spread his dick in his hand and Danford poised, ready to plunge his cock into him as soon as the story was finished.

"Brent fell across the chef's back when they had come, and they lay there recovering, panting and kissing before breaking apart. Then Brent wiped his hands on his handkerchief and redressed, leaving the rumpled handkerchief on the table top to go into the restaurant laundry with all the others. Xavier got his clothes back in order before picking up the knife and returning to his cookbook.

"As he was leaving the kitchen Brent turned to Cesar, who was redressed and returning to the pile of potatoes. 'You will stay after closing tonight,' he said. 'Ahh. Si. Si, Signor Brent,' Cesar replied, smiling broadly at the more than presentable and wealthy Brent."

As Brian uttered the last words of his story, Danford pushed his cock inside him and proceeded to fuck him more wildly than he had in a long time.

Later, as they lay entwined and recovering, Danford asked him if he had any more gay sex stories he would tell him.

"Oh, yes. About eighty of them," Brian replied.