07 Breakfast Plans

It had all started with an innocent conversation online. Discussing how to make a good breakfast. I had mentioned that my favorite thing to make on weekends was an omelet. Something I had been doing for years. When working downtown in Washington DC I happened across a cafeteria where they served fresh hot meals one morning. They had a station where a gentleman was making omelets. As I had skipped breakfast that morning, I decided it would be a clever idea to go ahead and get one. Little did I know that his method would stick with me for the rest of my life. The omelet I was served was the best I had ever had. I went back there many times after watching his technique and then I started practicing at home. The result was something everyone I shared it with had come to love.

My online friend had revealed that she could not make an omelet. Every attempt ended up a scrambled mess of ingredients. This seemed a simple enough thing to fix. I offered to teach her how to make what I made. The only question was how we would accomplish that. She did not live anywhere near me. A plan was made. A date was set. Airplane tickets were bought. The spare room was made up.

Her plane landed late on a Friday night. Fridays tend to be days with early starts, and I was already a bit tired by the time I got to the airport. The flight was delayed, and it was well past midnight when she finally came through the security checkpoint and into baggage claim. She had only provided a loose description of herself, and I was not sure what to expect. The only plan for this weekend was a nice breakfast, a movie, and some exploring of the local area. Having zero expectations, I was not prepared for what greeted me in baggage claim.

Only one woman there came close to her description. She had only said she was 5'2" and just edging into middle age. I saw a couple much taller women, and several older gentlemen in disheveled suits picking up their luggage. There was one woman who looked to be the right height. I was a bit shocked. She was gorgeous. Her light brown hair danced around her like it had a life of its own. The light in an airport is not exactly a flattering thing, but the way it played through her hair like a lover dancing through a field was mesmerizing. It hung down her back just above her back side. Her large jacket covered her figure, but the jeans hugged her thighs and her narrow ankles. Her face tugged at my heartstrings. There were slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that belied her age, but if she had not told me, I would never have guessed a day over 26. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman walking through the airport. She turned her back to me and bent over to pull her bag off the belt. I choked back a whistle at the gentle rounding of her thighs into an ass that cried to be grabbed and worshipped.

She turned back around and gazed across the crowd. I wanted to get to know her better. I could feel the energy coming off her, like a palpable blessing of warmth and comfort in who she is. A small pit of doubt formed in the back of my head. There was no way a woman this incredible could be coming to meet me, some goofball online who boasted at how to make a half-way decent omelet. It was too silly to be real. If this had been a bar, I was sure she would have every eye in the place. I closed my eyes for a moment, this was too surreal to be real. When I opened them, she was looking at me. Her blue eyes captured me. There was a warmth in those eyes that reminded me of curling before a fire, under a blank with a slice of warm apple pie. That image tugged at my very being. Curled under a blanket in front of fire with her by my side, I could die a happy man. A smile played across her features, and I felt like I had just slipped into a warm bath. I smiled back. I could not stop myself. She walked towards me, and my heart skipped a beat. Was this real? Surely not.

"Rag?" She asked. Her voice was like silk sliding across my skin. I fought a shiver and lost. Smiled, nodded with a little too much vigor. I licked my lips and fought to find my voice.

"Lula?" I choked out. I prayed my voice did not sound to her as it did to me. Like an over-eager teenager meeting their dream date. She smiled and nodded.

We walked to the car in silence. We maintained a healthy gap between us. I felt pulled towards her like a moon caught in the orbit of a celestial body. Every step I took, I had to fight the urge to close that gap and pull her against me. I wanted to bury my face in her hair to feel its silky smoothness. I managed to maintain the gap. When we got to the car, I opened the back and tossed her suitcase in. She smiled and watched with interest. I felt myself blushing and turned to the car to hide, feeling like a foolish teenager. I opened her door for her, and then fought the urge to run to my door.

The drive to my house was not long. Approximately 45 minutes. As I started the car, my mouth went dry. I had to say something, but my vocal cords fused to the insides of my throat. I choked, coughed, and tried to find my voice. She looked at me with a curious and amused expression. I hoped I was not blushing but had no way to hide it if I was. After a swig of water, I managed to get the car started and found my voice.

"How was your flight?"

"Long." It was only one word. And yet. It was so much more. A shiver ran down my spine. I once again felt caught in the pull of something greater than myself. I focused my eyes on the road but could not help but glance over to see her smiling again. Amused. Gorgeous. A radiant being of beauty and something more. I turned my head back to the road. At this point I was praying I could keep the car on the road.

I coughed, cleared my throat, which was dry again, "You can take a nap if you need. We will be at my place soon."

She glanced out the window into the dark and nodded. "Perhaps I will..."

She leaned against the window and closed her eyes. The remainder of the drive was silent. Me trying to keep concentrated on the road, and not the goddess next to me. I gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles went white. It was all I could do to keep from reaching over and putting a hand on her, if only to confirm she was real, and not some dream I had somehow wandered into.

She awoke as we pulled into the driveway. I got out, walked around the car, opened her door for her and offered her a hand. She gave me a bemused smile and took my hand. When our skin touched, the world froze. It felt like she moved in slow motion, pulling herself to her feet gazing up at me. I felt like a drowning man finding air for the first time. I felt lost in her eyes. There was nothing in the world but us, and I could die happy in that moment. Then she stepped past me and released my hand.

The world came crashing back in. I blinked and reoriented myself. I almost stumbled and fell, but somehow managed to keep my feet. She walked over to the back of the car smiling as she glanced over her shoulder at me. I came around her and pulled her luggage out of the back of the car.

As I unlocked the front door, I spoke over my shoulder, "Tomorrow is a run day for me, so I will be getting up early. You do not have too though."

I stepped in and held the door for her. She smiled as she stepped inside. I took her on a quick tour of the house, then showed her to her room. I stopped at the door saying, "I am going to crash out. We can have breakfast whenever you get up. Not a big deal. Feel free to sleep as long as you like."

"Thanks."

I shut the door and went off to the master suite prepping for bed. It still felt surreal to have her in my house. Sleeping under the same roof. The house did not feel the same. It was like some angelic being was there with me. As I crawled into bed and set the alarm, I almost expected that she would disappear when I had awoken. I lay awake for some time, listening for some sign of movement, but there was none. I hoped she was sleeping well, but my mind was racing, and I could not make myself slip off into dreamland.

My watch started buzzing against my wrist bright and early. It seemed only moments before I had been wondering if I would ever fall asleep. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I slipped out from under the covers and gathered up my running clothes. I did my best to stay quiet, though part of my mind argued that I was alone. There was no way the events of the night before were real. That was the dream, and this empty house was the reality. Still, I did not want to risk waking her. As I headed downstairs to get my running shoes on, I noticed the guest room door was closed. No light was on, and I heard no noise. Perhaps, I wondered, perhaps I was not dreaming. Maybe it was real. Not that it mattered now, I needed to run.

I slipped out of the house and started stretching. Once that was complete, I left for my run. I ran for a good thirty minutes. Letting the adrenaline kick in. The muscles ache. Yet, all the while, my mind kept going over the events of the night before. It all seemed a hazy dream like memory.

As I got back home, and went into my cooldown routine, I debated how to proceed. The plans had been simple, breakfast followed by a movie, maybe some board games. Yet that nagging voice in the back of my mind kept telling me, it was not real. That the house was empty, as it had been the day before. I did not want that. I ached to see her again. Time would tell which was the truth. I finished my stretching routine and went back into the house. I took a deep breath as I crossed the threshold, then moved making as little noise as I could, on the off chance that she was still here.

I left my running shoes by the door and went upstairs. The door to the guest room was still shut. I paused in the hall and held as still as I could. Over the thunder of my heart, I heard nothing else. I went into the master bedroom, and into the bathroom attached, stripped, and went into the shower.

After I got out, I slipped into a pair of boxers, some sweat shorts, and a loose t-shirt. Then I headed downstairs. Again, I paused in the hall outside the guest room. This time, I heard something. It was soft, only barely noticeable. My heart skipped and my mouth went dry. It was not a dream. Not wanting to seem like some kind of stalker, I headed downstairs to the kitchen. It was time to start the preparation for breakfast. Perhaps she was not fully awake yet or would rest awhile longer. I hoped that was not the case, but starting breakfast seemed the logical course of action.

I went into the kitchen, walked around the island, and grabbed a cutting board. I placed it on the island in front of the refrigerator. Then I opened the refrigerator and grabbed two eggs, a bag of mixed cheese, a couple of sausages and half an onion. I placed the sausage and onion on the cutting board, then opened a cupboard and got out two bowls, placing an egg in each. Then I went over and grabbed a small eight-inch frying pan. I placed that on the stove and turned the heat up to 4/10. Next, I pulled a knife out of the block and went to the cutting board.

First, I grabbed a sausage and cut it in half along the length. Then I laid those two halves down and cut them in half lengthwise again. Then I turned them sideways and chopped them into small chunks. Then I grabbed the next sausage and did the same thing. Then I grabbed the onion and sliced a section of it off. About two centimeters thick. I then diced the onion.

Then I turned, stepped over to the stove, and added some butter to the frying pan. While I watched it start to melt, I listened for movement. I heard soft foot falls above me. She was awake. My heart fluttered in my chest. Words escaped me. My mouth went dry. My jaw worked, but no sound came out. After a moment, I snapped back to my senses. My jaw clicked shut, and I looked at the frying pan with one eyebrow cocked upwards. Right. Breakfast.

I opened a drawer and pulled out a spatula. I pushed the butter around, making sure it spread over the bottom of the whole pan. Then I added a little bit more, it did not sizzle, but it was getting close. It would be time to add ingredients soon.

Just then I heard the stairs creak. The fifth step down creaks if you step right in the middle. Off to one side, it is silent, but for some reason the builders did not get that step right. It was something I meant to bring up after the inspection, but I forgot to mention it. My heart started to beat a drum solo in my chest. I could hear her feet padding the steps as she came down into the foyer and turned towards the kitchen. My mind went blank, and I could not think of what to say, or what to do. I felt my mouth going dry and tried to swallow and unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. I had not gotten myself something to drink before I started, and that now seemed like a bit of a mistake.

Then she came around the corner into the kitchen. I stood transfixed. Her hair hung in gentle curls around a face that could only be described as celestial. Like looking into the face of an angel or goddess. The slight crinkles at the corners of her eyes only added to her beauty. Those eyes seemed to peer from some far-off magical land and bore into my very soul. Her lips parted ever so slightly, and I wished to feel them on my skin. A large t-shirt hung over her body, hiding her form. The gentle lumps of her breasts pushed the shirt out, and it swelled over her hips. The shirt went down about mid-thigh. If she wore anything underneath, I could not tell. My body started to respond, and I tried to turn towards the stove to hide that but found that I could not move as she took a slow step towards me. Her bare feet making the smallest of noises on the kitchen floor.

She crossed the kitchen in a slow saunter. Her hips moved from side to side. Her supple legs moving under the shirt. Her eyes bored into mine as she came up to stand in front of me. She looked behind me at the cutting board, then over to the frying pan. Then she moved a little closer, only inches away from me. Her eyes locked mine.

"Is this for me?" Her voice was soft, just above a whisper. Yet it filled the room, I fought not to shudder.

"Mornin... I... Yes... ", I stammered, finding my voice. A smile played across her features, and I felt warmth and comfort. I could not help but smile back. I turned to the cutting board and gestured to what I had done.

"I always start with the sausage and other ingredients to be added. It is important to cut them up into small pieces, so they blend in with the egg, once you add it later. We will cook that first once the frying pan is hot enough to sizzle the butter. For today, I am only working with sausage and onion, but you could add bell pepper, mushroom, spinach, or any other ingredients you might want to add. Using tomatoes is always risky because of the high-water content. It causes the eggs to not bind as well. Regardless, you would add that stuff first, then once that has cooked down, we will add the egg."

I started to turn to the stove when I noticed she had closed the gap, down to less than an inch between us. As I looked down into her angelic face, she smiled again, and I could not help but smile back. I pointed with my right hand to the stove. She took a small step back, turned towards the stove, and took a step towards the stove, standing right in front of the frying pan. I stepped up behind her.

"First we need to make sure the frying pan is hot enough."

With my left hand, I reached over to the butter container and picked up the knife. I sliced a small portion of butter off the block and dropped it into the frying pan. As the butter hit the pan, she took a small step back, and put her body against mine. The butter sizzled as my body responded. My pulse pounded into my ears, and my muscles went rigid. The firmness of her hips pushed against mine. My breath caught as my erection went full between her buttocks. My cock throbbed as she ground her hips against mine.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus my mind on the task at hand. I had promised breakfast, and I would prefer not to burn the food. At the same time, I could feel shivers running down my back with the desire to take her. This incredible angel. This goddess. Her hair played across her back. The intoxicating aroma of her threatened to overwhelm me. I took another shuddering deep breath.

"Perfect," I managed to say. Both the butter in the frying pan, and the woman before me.

I put the spatula back on the counter to the right of the stove. I took another deep breath, fighting the urge to rip her clothes from her and ravage her here and now. Instead, I took a step back, breaking contact with her. I could hear the slightest moan of disappointment slip from her lips. That sound made my heart ache.

I turned and grabbed the cutting board. When I turned back, I gasped. She had bent over, her shirt riding up her back. Her incredible ass was exposed, except for a small strip of fabric that covered the last intimate locations. A tiny pink thong. She looked back at me over her right shoulder and in a husky voice that raised gooseflesh on my arms she said, "I see your meat is ready to be... cooked..." Then she bit her lip.

My body went rigid. My cock throbbed painfully against my clothes. My muscles twitched. I could not think of what to do. Breakfast. The only word and thought that went across my mind. My fingers twitched, and I nearly dropped the cutting board. Every fiber of my being called out in protest. I wanted her. Oh god, I wanted her.

Yet, what I did next confounded me. I stepped around to her left and placed the cutting board on the counter. I grabbed the spatula and scrapped the contents of the cutting board into the frying pan.

"Next, we want to make sure everything cooks as evenly as possible. The onion will need to soften in the butter and heat. We want the sausage ever so slightly browned." I took the spatula and pushed the contents of the frying pan around, smoothing it so it would all get some heat. Then I tapped it against the side of the frying pan, knocking off the bits of onion that had stuck to it.

I turned my head and looked down at her. She was still bent over, a tiny bit of shock played across her features. Then she pouted at me. Her luscious lips protruded just a bit to show her displeasure. She stood up, shook her hair, and stepped up close to me. I could smell the sweetness of her breath, the scent of her hair. The intoxicating aroma of HER. I could not pull my eyes from hers. I could not blink or say anything. I was locked in the moment, frozen.

With her eyes locked on mine, her hands found my cock. Which throbbed at her touch. She ran her hands along it, feeling the length of it. Then she cupped my balls and squeezed through the fabric. I could not breathe. My muscles seized. Then she let go, and I could breathe again. There was a hunger in her eyes that had nothing to do with breakfast. I could see it. I wanted it. My soul cried out for it. And yet...

I took the smallest of steps back, and turned to the island, picking up the bowl with the whipped egg in it. This time I could hear the audible click of her teeth in frustration. Not what I wanted. What kind of idiot am I? In the back of my head, I knew this was a mistake. Focus on breakfast instead of this goddess who... Very obviously wanted something from me other than the food I was trying to prepare. Yet my actions seemed locked to a course, like a train on rails that I seemed incapable of derailing.

With the bowl in hand, I turned back towards the stove. This time, she was on her knees, her back to the stove. The grin on her face was mischievous, and hungry. The light in her eyes stopped me in my tracks. I swallowed, trying to find my voice, and failing. I tried to step sideways, but her hands moved up and grabbed my shorts, pulling them down to my ankles. My cock thumped against my shirt. Erect, and throbbing. I stood there, in a near stupor as she wrapped her fingers around my manhood. Her grip was tight, but the contact made me shudder. She looked up at me, smiled, and purred, "This is the meat I've been wanting... It looks ready to eat... Can we just skip to the main course?"