The Kitchen Sink

The cd player whirred to the spot on the disk that she wanted to hear, the volume was turned up and the kitchens acoustics accentuated his voice. She filled the sink and squirted in the bubble liquid, lowering the plates, cups and cutlery, she dove her hands into the hot water that prickled her skin with the heat.
The soft Scottish accent that she liked so well, pronounced the words so resonantly as she lay the crockery onto the draining board. She stopped as the first words of Romeo and Juliet broke across the kitchen.
‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun!’
She felt her insides soaring, a tingling feeling from well within her very soul bristling with excitement as he continued.
‘Arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief.’
She sighed, smiling and closed her eyes, she felt him close, her heart was pounding, she could feel her stomach somersaulting as she felt his presence once more in her life, she could smell his aftershave from the doorway and still he read.
‘That thou, her maid, art more fair than she, be not her maid, since she is envious.’
Into the waters her hands plunged again, feeling the knives and cutlery at the bottom, burning her hands as she dove deeper to grasp the plain metal. She felt him closer, his breath on her neck as she tilted forward to find through the bubbles the final knife.
‘Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it: cast it off.’
She felt his hands around her waist and inhaled suddenly, his bristly stubble face against her neck, nestling in, kissing her softly along her neck and down her spine to where the neck of the t-shirt stopped. She exhaled deeply as his hands rode up the inside of her top, cupped her breasts in each hand and massaged them sensually. She dropped the cutlery onto her favourite mug and it shattered the handle, but she couldn’t stop now, he was reading the passage in her ear, occasionally nibbling her earlobe and it was all she could do to stop herself from turning around and letting him take her now.
‘It is my lady! O! It is my love; O, that she knew she were.’
She felt him press his body against her, felt his heart beating against her back as he ran his arms now free from her goose bumped nipples down her arms and into the waters deep. He continued to speak; she could feel his breath against the side of her face, sending her mind into rapturous delight.
‘She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that? Her eye discourses, I will answer it.’
She felt the goosebumps rise up and down her body, she felt the tickling sensation of the five o’clock shadow bristle around her neck and the side of her face, she dared herself to open her eyes as he continued to speak, dare she turn around and face him, her mouth to his mouth and be taken now.
‘I am too bold, t’is not to me she speaks.’
She was alone in the kitchen, the words echoed from the cd player sitting on the shelf beside the waxwork photograph of a foul mouthed chef. She sighed and turned back to the washing and rescued her Doctor Who mug from beneath the bubbles and sat it on the shelf with its broken handle running her fingers over the artwork of its title. She smiled to herself as she continued to listen till the end before continuing with the chore and pulling the plug.



Copyright 2009