Learning Curves 1 - French Cooking 101 Read Online Free PDF

lamp shed enough light to see the large screen laptop on the desk, a natural, wood chest of drawers, two mahogany-tone bookshelves, and taking up most of the room—a rarity in France—was a California king-size bed with brown sheets that matched the curtains. A closed door led to the bathroom and an ajar one to the miniature kitchen.
    Mary took in the studio while George locked the door behind them. “I’m assuming it came furnished,” she said. “Nevertheless, I think it’s very you.”
    Kicking off his shoes, he realized she was right. He hadn’t thought about it, but yes, he would likely have picked up those exact pieces of furniture if he had been in charge of decorating.
    “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist before kissing her neck.
    “Nope, no drink. Just you.”
    “That you have already,” he said as he pulled her shirt out of her jeans and over her head. She turned around to face him and did the same with his. They took turns removing each other’s clothing in a slow, methodical fashion until the last item fell on the floor.  
    George took one step back to get a better view. His throbbing manhood demonstrated how much he liked what he saw from her small torso with petite breasts to the curve of her waist that spread into wide hips. Mary did not act shy. She ate him up with her eyes. With a light touch, she traced his broad shoulders down to the ridges of his pecs, his abs, and then around his waist to his butt. He couldn’t let her go on like that or he would burst. She made a little noise of surprise when she watched him grow harder as she touched him. His manhood was like the rest of him—large and thick. She needed to be very ready to let him in.  
    He slipped a hand between her legs and let out with a rumble, “Amazonia.”
    She shuddered and giggled at the same time. “Yes, a regular rainforest.”
    George couldn’t wait another minute; he needed her. He took her hand and walked to the bed. Leaning over the nightstand, he searched the drawer for the box of condoms. He knew he had purchased some weeks ago but couldn’t remember how many he had left. He couldn’t see anything in the drawer. Swearing between clenched teeth, he pulled out the drawer and tossed the contents on the floor.  
    Mary sat on the bed wearing only a smile. Oh crap, being amusing is the opposite of sexy. He didn’t want to look amusing. He wanted to appear manly, in charge, in control.  
    He saw at least two condoms on the floor. Thank God! He tore the wrapping, and Mary pried the condom from his hands. She placed it on the tip of his penis, and looking up at him, she gently rolled it down his shaft.  
    Never had he thought that putting on a condom could be so erotic. A low growl of appreciation came from his chest and made her smile again. But it wasn’t an amused smile; it was a smile of pride. She seemed happy to be the object of his desire.
    He pulled her up from the bed, placed her arms around his neck, and impaled her by bringing her thighs around his hips. She stopped breathing for an instant, and then she exhaled slowly. Her face was buried in his neck, and he heard her very soft purr, like a kitten. He remained immobile for an instant while she stretched, accommodating his size. Not moving took all his will power, but she was so tight, he was afraid to hurt her. So he waited.  
    Her weight was no issue, spread out between his hands on her butt, her legs around his hips, and her arms on his shoulders. After what seemed an eternity, she shifted her hips. Her movement was a slow and gentle pull from his hips, only to plunge back with all the strength she could muster and remain immobile again. She did it a second time.  
    He growled, “If you do that again, I will lose control.”  
    “Good. Show me. I want to make you lose control,” she whispered. “Just take me with you. I’m almost there already.”
    He needed no more encouragement