I am in the middle of an eight-week internship at a Five Star beachfront hotel. I am an intern for the Catering Manager. She is beautiful and very knowledgeable. Great opportunity for me!
On the first day, she gave me a stern warning to stay out of the Head Chef’s way. He is talented and known for his intricate delicious dishes, and his temper tantrums. Also, he hates interns. He views interns as a bother and an intrusion in his kitchen.
One Saturday night, I was onsite for a very beautiful, large wedding reception. The Head Chef carefully orchestrated the dinner behind the scenes to perfection. I watched the staff prepare each course. I watched the guests savor each bite.
Back in the kitchen, I watched from the shadows in awe. The Head Chef is a handsome man and he commanded the respect from his staff as he barked out each command. His staff responded “Yes, Chef!” to each command. I was so impressed with his talent and leadership skills. I also wanted a taste of this truly masterful decadent strawberry and dark chocolate cake dessert that was the final touch for those who wanted something sweet besides wedding cake.
The meal was over and the staff was cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. I thought the Head Chef had left the kitchen for a well-deserved break. I moved from the shadows and started a conversation with the Sous Chef. I graciously praised the staff for the beautiful meal. I passed on the compliments from the guests, and especially the bride and her family. The Chef blushed and thanked me for the feedback. The Sous Chef asked I had had a chance to eat anything. I said that I was working but I did ask if there was any way I could have a taste of that dessert, if I could lick the bowl or something. I made the kitchen staff laugh, but then the room got very quiet. The Head Chef walked back into the kitchen and heard my request to lick the bowl.
Oh Damn! I was afraid that I was going to be fired on the spot and have to repeat this internship all over again at a different hotel. I was warned that to stay out of his way and here I asking for taste, asking if I could lick the bowl. He must be so mad, so insulted.
Everyone was afraid to speak. The Head Chef walked up to me. He looked me up and down. Oh, I felt naked as I stood in my evening gown, feeling so vulnerable. His dark eyes pierced my heart. He sensed my fear and took pity on me. He said to the Sous Chef, “Get this pretty lady, the lovely intern, Isabelle, my dessert from the walk in. I can’t deny a request from this raven beauty.”
Everyone was stunned. I was shocked that he had taken the time to learn my name. I was afraid it was a cruel joke and he was making fun of me, but the Sous Chef grabbed the only remaining dessert and walked towards me carefully carrying the plated dessert saved for the Head Chef. Just as he was ready to hand it to me, the Head Chef grabbed the plate.
Ok, here it goes. I am done for now! He holds the dessert in front of me, letting me catch an aroma of the chocolate ganache cake and perfectly ripened strawberry dessert. “So you like chocolate, my dear?”
Before I could answer, he said, “This dessert really needs champagne.” He sent for a beautiful bottle of champagne and asked the rest of the staff if their duties were complete for the night. That was his way of telling them to leave for the night.
Now it was just him and me with a beautiful dessert and expensive champagne. He popped the bottle open and poured us each a glass. I wanted to say something but my words failed me. He took a fork to the decadent dessert and fed it to me. It was the most delicious thing that I have ever tasted. It was like a little orgasm in my mouth. He was pleased that I was in love with his desert. He brought the glass of champagne to my lips and told me to take a sip. Next, Chef picked up the whole strawberry and brought it to my lips. He compared the red strawberry to the color of my lips. Then, I took a big bite. Before I could swallow the strawberry, he placed a kiss on my lips. His kiss was as hot as his kitchen. I grabbed him around his waist, and I finally spoke my first words, “Fuck me, Chef. Right here in your kitchen!”
This Kinky Coed Kittens blog post written by Isabelle
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