h2>Dating : Mesmerized By Her Breasts
After our pre-dinner fun, we all got cleaned up and dressed. Ellie and I headed to the kitchen to prepare our meal.
“Everything’s ready?” I asked Ellie. She had spent a busy afternoon preparing a gourmet feast for our special occasion.
“Of course, dear,” Ellie replied. “We have a pomegranate and pear salad with ginger dressing to start. I hope it tastes good because I only found the recipe on the internet today.”
“Darling, you can make tap water taste like Perrier, so there are no worries here,” I reply, buttering her up. A happy Ellie means a happy me. “What else is on the menu, hun?”
“We’re having artichoke hearts with butter, and asparagus with the meal,” she replies, “and for dessert, that’s a surprise.”
“But what are you going to do with the meat? Cordon bleu them?”, I ask, with a tremor in my voice betraying my excitement.
Editor's Note:
You get excited over chicken Cordon bleu? Wow...
“Of course, dear,” Ellie replies. “We’ll split the breasts, and pound them until thin. You like to pound your meat, don’t you hun? I’ll let you do that. Then we’ll dredge them in egg and panko, stuff them with Black Forest ham and Swiss cheese. Then they bake for twenty minutes at 350 degrees. I’ve already prepared the dijon cream sauce,”
Editor's Note:
"pound your meat"...
“My Ellie, the master chef,” I said, with my smile a mile wide.
Editor's Note:
Barf!!! I'd prefer bad sex to this mish-mush.
The breasts looked so delicious. I went to fake kiss them, but Ellie, thinking that I was actually going to, scolded me. “Don’t play with your food. You don’t know where they were. You could get some sort of filthy disease from them.” I was sad, but she was right. You never knew where they had been, or who else had handled them.
Editor's Note:
Fake kiss them? Okie-dokie...
“Now you go take care of our guest, while I finish everything off.” Ellie pushed me out of the kitchen so that I could keep Jayne company. We are always attentive hosts, especially after having so much fun earlier.
Ellie rings her crystal serving bell, as she sings out, “Dinner’s served.”
Editor's Note:
Wow. Both hoity and toity.
“Wonderful, honey. I’ve set the table, and we’re all ready for something scrumptious. I’ll bring the serving dishes to the table.”
“Here, seat Jayne at the head of the table,” Ellie tells me. “She is our honored guest, after all. This meal would be vegan if it weren’t for her.”
Editor's Note:
Vegan? You're having butter on the artichoke, and there's egg in the recipe. Dumbass!
“I’ll sit in my usual spot,” I say after seating both of the beautiful ladies. “Such a wonderful-looking dinner, honey. You’ve outdone yourself again.”
“Thank you, my dear. I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” Ellie says shyly. She always underestimated her talents.
The dinner processed as usual, with small talk and wine, and wonderful food. Everything was absolutely perfect.
Editor's Note:
Show, don't tell. What did you talk about? Geeze. Amaturs...
The salad was mind-blowing, and the crème brûlée was absolutely to-die-for. The best part, of course, was the Cordon bleu. It was outstanding — soft yet firm and succulent. These were the tastiest entrée that Ellie had ever used for her Cordon bleu. Jayne’s breasts were absolutely perfect.