Amber & Aaron: Home Cooking

Amber wanted to strike a balance between challenge and reward. In the end, that meant picking a dish that was difficult, but not too difficult. Fortunately for her, and for reasons for their visual appeal as much as her personal safety, aprons had been among the items Aaron permitted her to wear. Though honestly, she’d have worn a naked apron for fun.

The meat was stew meat, pre diced and simple. That only required pepper and salt. She put it in a cold pan to let it render out some fat and began to fry it on both sides. To deglaze, she diced up some potatoes, carrots and onions, throwing in a pinch of rosemary and tomato paste. Once that was all sizzling merrily, Amber baked some flour and butter in the mixture, and finally threw in a can of beer and two cups of beef stock when she was satisfied with the roux. Easy peasy beef stew.

But beef stew wouldn’t win her voice back. That required something special, and that meant baking it into a pie. While Amber was a pretty damn good cook, she was a notoriously awful baker. But she had pulled this off, and she was reasonably sure she remembered how.

Into the food processor went two, frozen, cubed sticks of butter and some flour. She couldn’t remember exactly how much flour to use, or remember which type was witch just by sight. So she picked a bag at random and added four cups. Amber blended it thoroughly, tossed it in a bowl and added water until it vaguely came together.

Partway through this step, she turned to find Aaron watching him. She winked, then slapped her own ass to leave a floury handprint there. The effect it had on him made her giggle.

She worked the dough with a rolling pin until it was far, far too big for the 9 inch pie dish she had. It was good to have some extra. After lining the dish, she tossed it into the freezer.

The stew going and pie spending its brief time in the freezer, she had a moment to relax. She leaned against their island, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and turned to her husband. She pulled her hair free from its ponytail, letting it fall to her shoulders and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Enjoying the show?” She hoped the look said.

Aaron crossed the living room to meet her, planting a kiss on her lips. She let out a gasp as he went farther than that, pinning her back against the island. Reaching behind her, he untied the apron. She returned his kisses, but before he could pull it off, she pushed him back, gently but firmly.

He gave her a confused look, and she shook her head, pointing toward the stove.

“Ugh...really?” He groaned. “I’ll give you a mulligan on it.”

She shook head with a smug smile and planted a finger on his lip, pushing him off of her with it. Withdrawing her finger, she wagged it disapprovingly, then pointed to his chair.

“You’re fucking killing me here,” He said with a heavy sigh. “Fiiiine, fine.”

She giggled and winked at him before returning to her work.

Now it was time to parbake, which she did quickly at a high temp. That done, she withdrew her crust. A fork test revealed her meat was tender, so it was time for final assembly. She ladled the meat and half of the sauce into the pie crust, reserving the rest for mashed potato gravy. She covered it with the pie lid, punched a few holes in it, and tossed it into the oven.

Once she got some potatoes boiling, she decided to reward Aaron for his patience. Turning to him, she shot him a sultry smile, beckoning him with her finger. She began to peel off the apron, but he stopped her with firm hands.

“Leave it.” He insisted.

She giggled as he lifted it, then her, propping her on the island as he pulled her legs apart and took her on it as the kitchen filled with the smell of baking pie crust.

The timer went off in about 15minutes, for Amber, floating on a cloud as she was, it felt much longer than that. But now they’d move to the couch again, and she was resting in his arms. She groaned pitifully curling in tightly with him rather than getting up to pull her pie.

Aaron was having none of it. He cupped her chin.

“C’mon, babe. You don’t wanna burn it.”

She made another soft protest, but he was already sitting up. Reluctantly, she stretched, yawned, donned the apron again and made her way to the kitchen.

As the pie cooled, she drained her potatoes, mashed them with some milk and a healthy grating of white English cheddar and whipped it until it was fine and uniform. When the pie cooled, she cut two pieces, crowning each with some potatoes that she drizzled in her reserve gravy.

It was time for judgement.

She tasted it before he did, and it was delicious: warm and decadent with a finish that was both buttery and earthy. The potatoes were sharp and tangy with the cheddar, but balanced by the gravy. It was perfect comfort food for a warm winter’s day.

Yet in spite of that, she knew she’d fucked at least one thing. The crust was entirely too thick and puffy. It had turned almost chewy, even, rather than being crips and delicate as it should have been.

“Baby this is fucking incredible,” Aaron said with a mouthful of food.

She smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. When they’d finished, she crossed her legs, sat up straight and presented herself for his judgement.

“Damn woman,” Aaron said, “I’m not even finished yet!”

Amber showed how great that concern was by pushing his phone to him and making a “get on with it” hand gesture.

Aaron sighed and slid his plate aside.

“That was wonderful. Like, really, really good.” He said. “So don’t take this the wrong way when I say that there were some pretty rough mistakes.”

She giggled in spite of herself. Amber had a feeling her score was about to be disappointing, but the concern he showed for her feelings even in this situation was endearing.

“I’m sure you noticed the crust. I’m guessing you used the self rising flour instead of all purpose.”

Amber groaned. That would do it. Her crust wasn’t supposed to have any baking powder.

He tapped at his phone. She felt a tingle in her chest as it began to puff out. With a gasp, she saw them push out and out, swelling until they seemed enormous even on her tall frame; 32F, she would eventually learn from Aaron, not that bra sizes were a concern at the moment.

She gaped down at them, astonished. Aaron watched her with a shit eating grin. She hefted her new chest, giving him an incredulous look.

“What?” He said. “It was a big oversight.”

She sighed, rolled her eyes and bid him continue. Her new breasts rubbed against the island as she turned.

“Also, you left out peas.”

She put her hands on her hips, looking skeptical. She had, but it was peas. Who cared about fucking peas.

Aaron only shrugged.

“I like peas. And it’s English. You can’t do English without peas.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. This time the changes were a great deal more modest. Her body toned and firmed, any excess weight melting off. Her breasts got perkier, her thighs and abs more defined. Her hair grew out too, darkening from a light brown to a deeper color. She was fitter, perkier and felt more energetic. It was this last feeling, along with the hair now falling past her shoulders, that tipped her off to what he’d done. He’d made her younger. Not a great deal younger, but back to her mid to early 20s before age had begun to exact its first tolls.

Amber beamed, clapping delightedly.

“Don’t mention it,” Aaron said with a smile. Then his face turned serious. “But there was one other mistake, and it was a pretty big one.”

Amber bit her lip, trying to figure out what it could have been. She did a mental inventory of the pie. Everything seemed right.

“Mushrooms.” He answered for her. “You left out the mushrooms. It’s not a proper steak and ale pie without them.”

She smacked her hand against her forehead. She’d known better; had even swept right on past the box of baby portabellas intending to use them. They had to go in with the vegetables so they could let out water. It was a very, very silly oversight.

And it would cost her, though it wasn’t immediately clear now. This time, nothing about her appearance had changed. But as she withdrew her hand from her face, it brushes clumsily against her new tits. And that’s when she felt it; a quick tingle of pleasure that made her breath in sharply.

Experimentally, she rubbed both nipples with her fingers. The pleasure she felt was so intense that doubled forward with a soft cry.

“Yeah, those are gonna be pretty sensitive now,” Aaron said almost apologetically. “Sorry babes, but the mushrooms are kind of a big deal.”

She shook her head. No apology required. As radical as these changes were, she was extremely worked up over them. She wasn’t just acting like a quiet little sex kitten now, she looked like one too. She was so turned on she could barely think straight.

Amber slid from her chair to Aaron’s lap, straddling him with her shapelier new (old?) legs. He took her in his arms, hands squeezing her bare waist.

“Do I get to finish my lunch?” He asked. “You worked so hard on it.”

She reached out to his plate, shoving it gently out of reach. Then, she shook her head.

“Don’t you...mmm...at least wanna know your score?” He asked in between kisses.

She shook her head again, wrapping her arms around his neck. All of that could come later. At the moment, she only wanted him.