Pillow Talk

Erotic Tales

Dinner for Two – Part I

F by E.H.He was passionate about very few things – but those things that did spark a flame in his soul and awakened him, he embraced fully, totally and without reservation.

His first Love was history. He connected with the whispers that ruins still chanted after centuries of neglect had left there mark. If only they could talk, those old stones, what stories they would tell! Surely not the ones written by mere men.

His latest project had truly been a labor of love. He caressed the walls, no longer covered by sand and marveled. Despite the perils of the passage of time; each arch, stone wall and carving had managed to survive. Even defying an incalculable number of waves thumping incessantly against the sloped outer walls. This had been the cities old dungeons, where offenders were imprisoned, tortured, and if they were lucky, before long executed.

He had bought the place and somehow found a way to fund it’s restoration. He sat a moment at a table, looking at the resurrection before him. His place. His restaurant. Tomorrow “Sands of Time” opened to the public. But tonight …. Tonight …

His second Love was Food. Food for him was not merely sustenance but pure delight. Nothing in this world was as wonderful as the sensual feeling of a delicate flavor, crossing the tongue or the sweet scent of the perfect mix of spices, herbs and wine. Food was not just building blocks for the body, but an expression of the soul. He loved it all. Simple meals of quality ingredients, complicate masterpieces or best of all, surprising combinations he would never have thought up on his own. How he admired those in the kitchens and envied that gift in them. As far as he was concerned cooking was a form of magic.

His third Love was Her. His partner, his friend, his confidant and lover. The one without whom he couldn’t breath, without whom his dreams were mere shadows in his sleep. He had known companionship. He had thought he had known love. He had even considered himself a lucky man to have only known good and loving women. And then she had walked into his life and everything had changed. He had been asleep and merely drifting after all, not realizing that his life had been a lie and he a mere specter of all that he could be. She had awakened his passions, stirred his soul and breathed life into his day to day. She had shown tremendous patience and support during the restoration. Tonight, he wanted to thank her. In some small way, he needed desperately for her to feel and to know what she meant to him.

He knew that he was only truly alive because of her. That this project had come to be, thanks to her encouragement. He was no longer of the living dead. With her he ran free and alive. He was himself at long last and tonight his three Loves would merge. He was indeed a lucky man.

As that humbling thought passed through his mind, and he smiled with a sense of overwhelming gratitude, she walked into the room.

God she was beautiful.

Wearing a long and flowing dress in the caftan style, she practically glided in bringing with her the breath of fresh air she was. Her hair was relaxed in long and lazy waves that framed her face. Her large cat like eyes sparkling in delight at the beauty of the place around her. Pride and joy emanating from every pore. There was no other word for it … she was sensual.

She laughed and skipped and twirled for him, her long earrings, the only jewels she wore, sparkling in the light. He sucked his breath in between his teeth as his heart swelled with such emotion he was uncertain the shell of his body could contain it all. She was spectacular and he was her chosen one. He never could understand why she had selected him above all others, but didn’t dare to question too deeply in case she came to her senses and saw the average man he believed himself to be.

He held out his arms in welcome and she rushed to him planting her lips hard on his, her glow of happiness so intoxicating he felt drunk. She reached up, placing her forehead on his, and let her fingers get tangled in his hair. He had come to notice that little gesture so uniquely hers and had once asked about it. She had blushed prettily and told him that it was like a greeting and a security blanket all wrapped into one. His locks. She loved them and couldn’t resist letting them get stuck and twirled in her finger tips or brushing them off his forehead. The gesture at once childish and sensual. A conundrum … just like her.

He gave her the final tour of the restaurant. She exclaimed in delight at all the details. Even noticing that the one or two suggestions she had dared to voice had been taken into account and made manifest. She was like the fine glass of champagne he handed to her, bubbly, refined and precious. He put his arm around her shoulder wanting her close, and she leaned her head onto his chest as they walked to the table set for two.

Wanting her to taste every item on the menu and taking his queue from the Tapas concept, he had created a small feast of the senses; all of it cooked just right from the freshest ingredients he could get his hands on. She savored every morsel, regaled him with her questions, comments, delight, and obvious enjoyment; letting each bite linger like a lovers kiss before swallowing. As the evening progressed she had gone from simply touching his hand and caressing his leg to more daring and provocative gestures. He had felt her foot pressed into his crotch, her toes lingering, then leaving a trail of heat on his inner thigh in her retreat. Her hand landed on his arm, her fingers pressing, in a subconscious “come hither“ move … she was hungry for more than just food. She looked up, that mischievous twinkle in her eye, her mouth almost pouting and in a hushed voice asked what might be next.

It was time for dessert.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.


April 10, 2009 - Posted by | erotica, Not the bedroom, romance, Sensual, Uncategorized | , , , , , , ,


  1. Oh… This brought smiles and tears. My heart felt it all. This is beautiful – both the writing and the story. I can’t wait for the rest.

    Comment by Silia | April 10, 2009 | Reply

    • Oh I am so glad you enjoyed it! This post is proving to be far more difficult to write as I attempt to tap into a more emotional side. I found, on more than one occasion, I had written myself into a corner. Bare with me as I continue the story … and thank you for your feedback. Always welcome Silia, It’s refreshing to get a ladies opinion.

      Comment by fantasiaspillowtalk | April 10, 2009 | Reply

  2. Ah, Fantasia at her absolute best.
    Only the combination of real eternal love and passion can make you write like this.

    Comment by Thorn | April 11, 2009 | Reply

    • Ah, Thorn … how astute. I have indeed known it, lost it … and hope to know it again some day. Thank you for your frequent visits and encouragement.

      Comment by fantasiaspillowtalk | April 11, 2009 | Reply

  3. Dear Fantasia

    Thank you for what I consider a very personal gift. This is a fantastically written story (so far) and I’m sure neither I nor any of your readers will be disappointed.
    What makes it so special to me is the fact that I can identify with many of the details you’ve imagined and created. But most importantly, I can identify with the 3 Loves almost to the letter.
    Your Erotica is a much prized verbal stimulus. I am almost certain that you are being read and appreciated much more than the number of comments on your blog suggest.
    In any case, reading and appreciating Pillow Talk is the first step on the ladder of emancipation for women, but most significantly for men.
    I will cherish your gift and can’t wait for the rest of it to make me even happier than I already am.

    Comment by abufares | April 11, 2009 | Reply

    • Abufares, I am relieved that you like Dinner for Two. You are most welcome, but it is I that thanks you for the inspiration. Your post on The Cave and constant positive feedback (offline) gave me the courage to attempt to write something more “profound” as it were.

      To know a man’s passions, and to fully embrace them, is to truly understand the man. But the first step is to know and do that for oneself first! and when the two merge …. well … it’s like Lida and the Swan.

      I am not sure that “… reading and appreciating Pillow Talk is the first step on the ladder of emancipation for women, but most significantly for men.” I would love for you to tell me more on that. I am tickled pink that this has made you happy. Part II … is on it’s way my friend – the bow that wraps the gift! But I don’t want to rush it so…. patience please?

      Comment by fantasiaspillowtalk | April 11, 2009 | Reply

      • Fantasia

        I have already received feedback (offline) from some readers of my blog that they are regularly reading your blog but are too timid to comment. Men mostly!
        I’m talking specifically about emancipation in different cultures, ours for instance. A few years back, before the advent of blogging, very few Syrian men and women even admitted reading erotica. In the last 2 years or so, I have seen more women opening up and sharing their romantic and sensual experiences on the blogsphere in English and Arabic. Men are still holding back. My blog is just a simple example of the furthest Arab men have been willing to go in their letting go of their demons and opening up to the rest of the world. I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary by any account but the stuff I write is too radical, given the time and place. Arab male bloggers, in their majority, either deal with serious and grave matters exclusively or have nothing worthwhile to say. However, the recent trend is very promising. Pillow Talk, in this context, becomes MUST READING and that’s why I encourage everyone I know to give it a try.
        Can’t wait for your next installment.

        Comment by abufares | April 11, 2009

      • Oh how I wish I knew what they were thinking! What they like, don’t like … and why. What they are getting out of it. It is difficult for me to imagine what you speak of, because my writting is very tame for my “time and place”; this is hardly racy and certainly not porn! I am humbled that my simple stories can have such a positive and strong effect. I will do my best to remain worthy. Oh … and you are in luck my friend – I have just finished Part II.

        Comment by fantasiaspillowtalk | April 11, 2009

  4. You are a good writter, congrats, I am trying to learn, maybe you can give me some tips.
    I do not have a clue what to comment (not to mention the fact I am late for work), I am awfull writting about this things:

    There you go.
    Here I am.
    And the world does not give a damn.

    The process of romantic love in humans begins with falling in love, a subjective experience characterized by intense focused attention on a preferred individual, obsessive thinking about him or her, emotional dependency on and craving for emotional union with this beloved, euphoria and increased energy.

    What differentiates humans from all other creatures is the deep and unquenching need to be desired.

    Comment by mariana | April 13, 2009 | Reply

  5. But before I had even quite realized that I was attracted to her—well, I knew I was because I wanted to be more like her than I was like myself—the old terrible magic coalesced into the air, and I realized with a sort of shock what I wanted to do. Dear God, I wanted to put my hands on her as a trial, just as a test. I wanted to put a hand on her face or on her arm because I thought that if I did that, I would be so happy. I just wanted to feel her skin and I wanted to get at the soul underneath that muscle because I could smell it.

    Comment by disorderlybeautifulchaos | July 9, 2009 | Reply

  6. actually more of a ravenous voracious forager

    Comment by disorderlybeautifulchaos | July 9, 2009 | Reply

    • I think you like to taste flesh … I stand by Hunter…. perhaps both then?

      Comment by Fantasia Lillith | July 9, 2009 | Reply

  7. Flesh
    final answer?
    care to use a life line

    Comment by disorderlybeautifulchaos | July 9, 2009 | Reply

  8. ah no answer is ever final but will accept it for now

    Comment by disorderlybeautifulchaos | July 10, 2009 | Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: