“I do that to you, just by whistling?”
“Every time,” I said.
He kissed me forcefully, passionately.
“You’ve got me well trained,” I said, “like Pavlov’s puppy. But now it’s your turn. Tell me how you’d like your afternoon orgasm served?”
He leered at me, squeezing my butt with both hands.
After, as we lay strewn across each other on the couch, I said, “I think we are in need of a new rule.”
“What’s that?”
“For every two orgasms, we eat.”
He laughed. “To be clear, are those yours, mine, or a combination of both?”
I laughed with him. “All of the above.”
“Okay, as I said earlier, before I was, ahem, interrupted, lunch is waiting.”
In the kitchen, a platter of food sat on the counter and a single majestic sunflower stood in a water glass.
“I love sunflowers,” I said. “They make me think of summertime. From now on they’ll always make me think of you. Thank you, it’s perfect.”
“Like you.” He squeezed me into him.
“And look at this impressive spread.” There were meats, cheeses, fruits, olives, and a freshly baked baguette.
“I realized when I was in the market that aside from this morning’s poor excuse for a breakfast, we’ve never eaten a meal together. I’d no idea what you liked, so I bought a little bit of everything.”
“Uh oh, you broke my number one rule.”
“And what would that be?”
“I don’t sleep with a guy unless he’s at least bought me dinner. How’d you manage to get away with that?” I asked.
“Aren’t I a clever lad?”
After a decadent late afternoon nap, Teddy threw dinner together.
“The gourmet market in town is owned by a fellow countryman. He carries two of my favorites from when I was a boy, Heinz Salad Cream and Branston Pickles.” He held each in a hand. “Nan used to make a special sandwich for me in the summertime, and now it’s one of Max’s favorites. I hope you’ll like it.”
“The nan who called you Teddy?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, the only other person who got away with calling me that.”
Teddy had cut the remainder of the baguette lengthwise and toasted it. Then he slathered the bread with the salad cream, filled it with the leftover meat and cheeses, and generously dispersed the pickles throughout.
“Here in the US, we call this a hero or a sub.”
He poured what was left of last night’s wine. “Are you Yanks familiar with the Earl of Sandwich? When I saw the condiments, I thought it would be fun to share something from my childhood with you, though it’s probably not up to your New York City gourmet standards. I’ll be better prepared next week.”
“I don’t consider myself a food snob. I mean, come on, I’ve managed to eat whatever the camp cook dishes out, and if this is your favorite, I’m sure I’ll like it. I’m touched that you wanted to share it with me.”
There was too much of the thick dressing for my taste, but I wasn’t complaining. A hot man who wanted to cook for me and couldn’t keep his hands off me—I was good.
We quietly ate until I broke the silence. “I just realized we didn’t smoke last night, and we both survived.”
