I’m taking an online erotica writing class called “Between the Sheets”, taught by Rachel Kramer Bussel. This is an excerpt from my first homework assignment.
For a while I occupied myself with my phone, thumbing through social media and email accounts, stealing glances at her while the countertop grew more and more obscured by ingredients, mixing bowls and utensils. An apron was hanging from her shoulders and tied loosely at the waist. I had a brief daydream about being that piece of protective clothing, my arms around her shoulders, legs wrapped around her waist, catching the spatter from her mixing bowl and beater. That fantasy shifted to using the apron ties for something more restrictive. I could feel the heat rising from my crotch to flush my cheeks. If she’d looked at me right then, she’d have known I wasn’t having pure thoughts. Luckily, she didn’t look.
I got up and stepped past her to the fridge, making sure to brush myself against her backside on the way to getting another beer. She reacted by stiffening her spine and giving me a quick sharp glance. Flipping the bottle cap off, I reached around her to drop it into the garbage can under the sink, where she was standing, pressing against her backside. I stood up close behind her, watching over her shoulder as she folded ingredients in to her batter. She frowned in concentration, I leaned lightly against her back. She turned and threatened me with a spatula covered in white goo. If I hadn’t been dressed in my good shirt and a nice tie, I might have taken the risk.
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