Organization: Arora
MEAT by davistrell@aol.com
Me, I'm a meat lover. Steak, sausage, salami, pepperoni, chicken veal, rib-eye,lamb and pork.
I'd gone into my local supermarket to buy food.I was hungry but looking for something new; I'd had my fill of hamburger and hot dogs recently. I've nothing against vegetables, y'understand. I like root vegetables. I've had carrots, cucumbers and even the odd rutabaga. No radishes! Fruit, well, I can take it or leave it. No fish!
A quick microwave meal, lots of energy and only takes a few minutes. That what was on my mind, when I passed the meat counter. The new blond guy behind the counter dressed in a white shirt and bloody apron moved forward at my approach.
"Meat,sir?" he inquired.
I started modestly, it's my style.
"I can't decide. Whether to go for the lamb or the rump roast."
The blond meatpacker smiled.
"Is this for a barbecue, or are you looking for something more intimate? I can recommend Tongue with a Creole sauce. Your partner would be impressed; if you made that. I get off at ten if you'd like the recipe."
We went back to my place. An undemanding dish to create while working in the kitchen. To prepare: Ingredients: Two fresh beef tongues, boiled. I held the young man firmly in my arms as I kissed his open mouth. We simmered like this as I drew the taste from him.
Heart, which is firm and rather dry, is best prepared by slow cooking. In texture it more resembles muscle than organ and so can be used in many recipes calling for ground meat. I removed his shirt, he mine.
There was a fumbled moment as the zip caught but he helped to remove our jeans. The youth had a good finish. ŒFinish' being the quality, quantity with a minimum distribution of fat. Just how I like'm. Less tender cuts may be tenderized mechanically by pounding, scoring and grinding, or chemically by sprinkling a commercial tenderizer. (see your local connection.)
Keep at room temperature for tenderizer to take effect.
We lay on my bed in my room my mouth engorged with cock, warm, wet and surrounded with my kiss. I cupped his kidney shaped sweetbreads with my hand and licked his mushrooming cock-head. This guy was definitely prime quality grade USA beef. I was bringing his salty, stewing juices to the surface. I kneaded his well seasoned buttocks with a scorching, burning passion. We lay upon a bed of glowing coals.
But as everyone knows you don't start cooking till the flames die down.
He ejaculated in my throat, I licked the white sauce. Tatare! The guy needed more Iron in his diet. He moaned as I bruised his nipple with my teeth. He was bathed in sweat, more gravy for me. His aroma of brown, red and pink engulfed me.
Half-asleep from his sexual exertions, I turned him over. I held him by the flanks, my fingers curled around his tender loins. My face, I buried in his ass. My tongue on his puckered hole met resistance so I tried my fingers. Too dry.
I shoved my fingers into his mouth to coat them with saliva. He understood; so when my fingers entered it became easy to gain an entry. He rocked his hips to my finger rhythm. As he churned his ass the muscles and sinews relaxed and I substituted my boneless sirloin steak.
He whispered a scream as I unified our flesh. My smoking blood sausage, complete with casing, slid forward burying itself inside his intestines. My motions were slow, rolling, raising and riding. I would almost leave his liver textured rectum before penetrating again, repetitively, deeper into his core. His chest heaving heavily, his breath sharper, articulating sounds of pleasure.
He squirmed, collapsed, recovered simultaneously.
My movements widened, deepened, coarsened becoming more vigorous.
Suddenly I bucked. He was still moving when inertia took hold and his body shook at the torrent I had released. He fell to the bed but I was with him my cock twitching, spurting violently within him.
We panted hard, fighting for breath, frozen in time.
A violent light broke, held like a painting.
He turned to face me. The only movement came from his belly, breathing with his belly. I kissed him, tongues intertwined. Outside him now, he bent forward and pulled the condom off with his teeth and emptied it on his chest. He began to fingerpaint with my drippings. He raised his middle finger to his tongue and pulled away a stringy bead of come.
"How was it?" I asked.
"Cordon Bleu," he said.