To say that Serena Campbell was not into baking was an understatement. She could barely cook lasagne so to be given a baking box was a testament to her acting skills. She thanked her benefactor graciously and waited until her neighbour was gone to despairingly stare at her nemesis. What was this stuff for? And what a waste of eggs. She preferred to cook her eggs scrambled. She should buy flour at some point to test out this baking thing. Maybe she'd palm it off on Jason and Greta, this might be more their thing.
She peered at a row of tiny bottles. Red food colouring, almond essence, vanilla essence…she opened the vanilla and licked it off her finger. Interesting. A bit bitter but then it wasn't meant to be licked off a finger. Bernie liked vanilla. Maybe she could try and bake her something.
Bernie came in two hours later to find the kitchen covered in flour and her lover smelling like cake batter. Serena had managed to make a tray of fairy cakes featuring a mixture of charred and gooey. She was a culinary disaster. Just as well Bernie wasn't with her for that. That's what takeaways were for.
'Hello darling, what disaster did you mock up for us today?' She greeted her cheerfully, leaning in for a kiss.
'Mmmmmm you smell like vanilla.'
Serena smiled at the hopeful tone. She'd done something right.
'We'll pick through them and find the edible ones.'
They sat at the counter and proclaimed the burnt ones the best. Highest content of spongy vanilla once they broke the crust.
'I'm not sure I'm going to keep up with this baking thing.'
'Just as well. You'd probably poison someone.'
Serena didn't take offence. Bernie had eaten her baking and she was happy. If her hunch was right, Bernie would be even happier once she realised that there was no end to this sweet treat.
She was right.
Once in bed, Bernie started sniffing her like a puppy, enthusiastically kissing and licking her neck.
'That vanilla is driving me crazy.'
Serena couldn't help but laugh at her idea working. Bernie set upon her and undid her pyjama top. Normally Serena's natural leaning towards buttons made her shake her head but in bed it made it more fun, revealing and undressing her with each flick. Bernie fastened her eager mouth where she sensed it next and she was right. Vanilla tasted just as good on skin.
'What did you do today?' She asked when she came up for air.
Serena laughed delightedly.
'I'm terrible at baking. I thought I might put the contents of the vanilla bottle to good use elsewhere.'
Bernie was incredulous but not displeased. Dabbing vanilla essence on pulse points and nipples was one of the best ideas she'd ever heard. She went back in for the other nipple, Serena's fingers curling into her hair contentedly.
Serena sighed raggedly when that familiar shiver jolted through her. She loved it when Bernie did that thing with her tongue. She couldn't wait for her to find out where else she'd put it. Thank goodness for pulse points on the inner thigh, Bernie was going to love it.
Expert baker she was not but those little bottles of flavouring became a lesson she never forgot. People never questioned the bottles in the pantry once they knew that the surgeons used a drop of Madagascan vanilla in their porridge or their morning coffee. Mix it up with coffee or almond even. But never better than on pulse points. However, nobody needed to know that.