|This is not the actual recipe, but a tribute to the recipe presented in this story. Original photo by jmcar.|
“You know, people say it’s the best sauce in town,” she said saucily, as the camera (but not Frank's eyes because he is a gentleman) panned down her feminine form again, displaying her heaving bosom, shining lightly from her sweat from her exertions in the kitchen, her smallish waist, but not too small, as she was a grilling expert who spent a lot of time standing up, but also needed to sample things and be strong, and then her big butt, which the author recognizes as something that’s appealing in the current tastes of many male readers, due to songs about the preferences of certain serpentine creatures unless various baked goods are in a woman’s possession at the time of observation.
“It definitely deserves an award, and I will trust but verify,” and so if we might fast forward a bit, after Frank finished polishing off the sausage and swallowing down all the meat on his plate (with the appropriate amount of chewing to prevent indigeststion) at this restaurant he stood up manfully, stretched and flexed his bulging muscles, and his abs started to pulse rapidly, breaking down his meal into easily consumed fuel for his future manly activities.
To trust and verify, Frank reasonably went to the top five restaurants according to the local hearsay/food app to try their barbecue sauce. Thankfully for Frank, it was his “relaxed dietary standards day” (Frank never cheated, not even in his diet) so he was able to eat as much as he wanted to and give the restaurants the correct amount of respect for their food.
At approximately 6:17:13 Texas Time, Frank strode back into Taeryn’s restaurant and declared “Yes, that is the best sauce in town, and I have not only trusted but also verified.”
Taeryn gasped at the manliness of his form in the doorway, with the slight 1cm increased paunch around his waist by .65 inches and slightly bulgier abs from his marathon of eating that even his muscles had slight difficulty in processing.
“You took all that meat for me?” Taeryn said saucily.
“You’re (barbecue sauce was) worth it.” Frank said with a sense of manly determination, and gritty masculinity that indicated he meant business that could be perceived in a physical closeness as well as a smell sort of way, not entirely on account of all the BBQ joints he had been in to that day. He took a manly but not imposing and threatening step closer to her, “It’s a real crime that I heard your sauce has been robbed of it’s rightful prizewinning place on account of vested corporate interest in this town since ‘2011 when the local ordinance of echoing Citizens United, BarbeCuerporations United went into effect, and dictating that corporations were Grilling Sauce Judges too, along with most other grilling, barbecuing, and for some reason industrial fencing’ took over and screwed you over.”
Seeing his huge pectorals and capacity for intelligence and his enormous D(etermination to seek out the truth and back it up with evidence) sent Taeryn into a frenzy. A hot sex frenzy.
“I’m really turned on right now, and I want you, because of your brain, and other reasons,” Taeryn declared to Frank in a way that was a bit of wish fulfillment for how straightforward the author wishes his interactions with women would be.
“Oh good, I want you too, but I respect you first and foremost as a grilling sauce master, and didn’t want things to get weird,” Frank said as he took off his hard working man’s shirt, revealing his huge dusky, sweat shined arms, pecs, and abs, once he took off his undershirt.
“We are both adults, and once consent is expressed, it’s ok, and isn’t it convenient that the restaurant is strangely empty at what would normally be peak dinner hours?” she huskily moaned as she embraced him, secretly gleefully running her fingers along his well Oxford dictionary defined body...
To be continued.