"Get some wine as well. Get the white, something fizzy, nothing too strong though, if you've got to drive later".
"And no wacky backy either," Peter called back, closing the door quickly.
He was gone less than an hour, but in that short space of time Melanie had all but transformed the flat into something resembling respectability. Two table lamps, one on top of the TV and the other on the floor in the corner of the room bestowed a warm ambience, while an incense burner on the coffee table did much to disperse the musty smell of neglect.
She pushed the settee and coffee table against the wall to lay a table cloth on the floor around which she had scattered cushions. Her best cutlery, stamped with the logo of 'The Little Chef,' lay alongside crockery of various shapes and designs.
"Great!" said Peter.
"It's not quite the Dragon Palace."
A while later she said: "I'll be sorry to see you leave."
Peter was licking the juice from his fingers. "And I'll be sorry to go." He handed her his card. "If you ever fancy moving up north, there's a job for you with me."
She took a moment to read the details before flicking the card across the room.
"My life's down here," she sighed. "But you never know. Maybe one day." She reached forward and planted a light kiss on his forehead. When he made to reciprocate, his plate tipped from his hand sending sauce all over her fresh, clean top. Grabbing a tissue he tried desperately to dab away the juice, apologising madly as he did so.
"It's no problem," Melanie assured him. "It'll come out in the wash." She pulled the top over her head and threw it towards the kitchen door. As the garment landed a strange atmosphere descended, quite electrifying.
"There's some sauce on you," Peter stammered. "Shall I…"
Melanie pushed out her tits, allowing Peter to rub the tissue against the white satiny material until most of it was off. He licked the tissue again saying how nice it tasted, but instead of wiping her with it this time, he ran his finger down her breast, feeling the nipple rise when his nail scraped across it.
"It tastes even better off you."
Melanie smiled and reached for the dish containing the prawns and oyster sauce, raising it to her neck she slowly tipped the contents over her breasts, the juice running down her cleavage while the prawns and vegetables splattered over her skin.
Peter waited until the dish was empty before he began the slow task of licking the food off her body. When his mouth fell over her nipple, sucking it hard through the wet material of her bra, Melanie lowered herself down onto the table cloth, crushing the food beneath her. As his tongue licked and flickered its way between nipple and navel and back again, his hands dropped down to pull her skirt up to her waist.
No problem. The signals were at go!
Slowly Peter removed his own clothes, then, standing over her, he poured the wine onto her body, watching the sparkling liquid drench her hair and soak into her knickers. When the bottle was empty he dropped between her legs and sucked at her cunt through the sopping wet cotton, while Melanie writhed and bucked, grinding the meal into the cloth, her body stained with various juices and her hair entangled with bean sprouts, rice and bamboo shoots.
Sensing she was near the edge Peter pulled aside her knickers and eased a thick, hot, greasy spare rib up inside her, the barbecue sauce smearing her lips and matting her hair. The heat between her lips forced a yelp for release from the bucking girl, an urgent desire to reach the top of human feelings so that she could throw herself down in one long orgasmic free falling leap. His mouth joined the bone at the entrance to her slippery tube, licking and sucking at her swollen button until the tell tale signs of clenched thighs and a back arched almost to a croquet hoop signalled the rush of an unstoppable overwhelming orgasm, announced further by great cries of release and moans of delight.
Peter removed the spare rib from Melanie's greasy juice-drenched hole, sitting back to eat it while she writhed slowly on the cloth, enjoying the ebb and flow of her subsiding heat, her body and clothes covered with food.
Eventually, when she had regained some composure she sat up, her arse marinading in a silver tray of black bean sauce. For a while she didn't say anything and Peter noticed tiny spasms in her legs, as if her orgasm had returned in a soft fading echo. When the last ripple of pleasure left she opened her eyes to see Peter's straining erection flat against his belly. She crawled across and kissed its tip, then with an impish grin she picked up a couple of onion rings and forced them down, along the length of his cock.
"Anyone for hoop-La?" she laughed, before reaching down and nibbling at the onions. While her head bobbed along his prick Peter reached over her back and rubbed the spare rib between her legs, forcing the wet cotton into the vee of her arse.
"Turn around!"
She did as he said, presenting him with her sticky pantied bottom covered with wine and the juice from the many different dishes. Peter pulled her knickers down far enough to expose her barbecue basted crevice, then poured the contents of a carton of sweet and sour sauce over her bum, watching as the sticky liquid scored a direct hit on the tightly pursed muscle of her arsehole. The gooey molten liquor trickled along the pleat of her vagina before dripping down onto his bloated cock.
When he had collected enough of the glutinous gel, he lifted his prick level to her entrance and pushed it home, mashing the onion rings between his thighs and her bottom. Once inside her he remained perfectly still, enjoying the sensation of the blended juices encasing his tool.
The different jellies provided the perfect marriage between solid male cock and soft female inner flesh, making it difficult to distinguish where his body stopped and hers began.
Peter started to move, slowly at first, allowing the sweet and sour sauce to lubricate her fully, adding its liquid to that already released by her aroused sheath. When the sensations grew in intensity so did his thrusts. Out, to the very sweet stained tip of his glans, then back, until the onion ring cushioned his stabbing loins against her. Beneath their coupled thighs grew a pool of Chinese dressings that dripped from Peter's heavy balls, the juice flavoured and scented not only with herbs of the mystic East, but now with Melanie's salacious oil.
Peter plunged deeper inside the slippery tube, jabbing harder and faster, seeking the ultimate sensation, craving its ecstatic release, thirsting for the snap of pleasure that only his striving straining spunk spitting cock could give. Wrapping his arms around her waist he embedded his swollen arrow firmly in her quiver, plugging her hole completely, ensuring no escape for the squirting gush of seed he pumped inside her.
Unable to withstand the onslaught, Melanie collapsed forward onto the cloth, spilling any food careless enough to have remained in its container. They stayed that way until Peter's greasy cock flopped from her vagina, sated and content.
He propped himself up on an elbow covered with bamboo shoots and water chestnuts and looked at his deflated prick. It still wore the onion rings for a necklace, although they were obviously the worse for the wear. Melanie rolled over and saw what he was looking at. With a naughty smile she dipped down her head and a grateful tongue flicked out to lick away his batter. When that was gone she ate the quite differently flavoured batter covering the onions.
Lying alone in the darkness after he had gone, Melanie smoked one cigarette after another, gradually filling up the old tin ash tray she'd stolen from the pub. The original Fosters design was no longer visible, having long since faded and decayed from a thousand stubbed out Marlboro's.
Occasionally, between cigarettes, she drifted into a light sleep, where her waking thoughts became dreams, confusing the twilight world of somnolence with reality. This veil of dormancy made it easy to ignore the heavy persistent thumping in her ears. But the knocks became more insistent, nagging and continuous, demanding attention and eventually getting it.