Disclaimer: Don't Own, etc., Except OCs

They had finished chopping the onions and garlic, and cleaning the seafood. "Want to see why people rave about my cioppino?" Andie asked.

"Sure," Wilson replied.

Andie heated some olive oil in a pan and put the garlic in it. "Can you stir this to make sure it doesn't burn while I get something from my pantry?" Andie asked. Wilson took the spatula from her. She returned with a small, flat can and opened the pull top. Wilson recognized the concentrated fish odor as anchovies. Andie dropped several in the hot oil and motioned for Wilson to keep stirring. The anchovies dissolved into the oil.

Suddenly, an intense aroma filled the kitchen. "You smell that?" Andie asked rhetorically (unless one lacked the sense entirely, there was no way to miss it). "If I believed heaven existed, this is what it would smell like."

Wilson took a deep breath. It was phenomenally good. Even though it was a different smell, he felt the way he used to feel when he was in his bubbie's kitchen when she was making chicken soup. Comfort. Home.

Trying to keep himself from losing his bearings completely, Wilson focused on the cooking. "What gave you the idea to do this?" he asked.

"The combination of olive oil, garlic and anchovies is the basis for several Italian sauces, including puttanesca," Andie explained.

"It's amazing," Wilson stated.

They sautéed the onions and added the rest of the ingredients, except for the seafood, which didn't need to cook for very long, and would be added just a few minutes before dinner.

They had finished everything they could prepare ahead of time by about 3:30.

"When is Catia coming back from her play date?" Wilson asked.

"She's coming back at five, with Lisa, Greg and Rachael," Andie replied.

"What should we do until then?" Wilson asked.

"Would you like to hear some music?" Andie inquired.

Wilson indicated that he would. He was expecting Andie to put a CD on her stereo in the family room. Instead, they went to a separate room in the back of the house. It was filled with musical instruments including a harpsichord, a viola da gamba, a lute, and several different types of wind instruments Wilson didn't know the names of, as well as a couple of guitars.

"Do you play all of these?" Wilson asked.

"Most of them," Andie said. "Some were left here by members of the Sunday group."

Andie picked up the viola da gamba, and began tuning it. When it was tuned to her satisfaction, she picked up the bow and began playing. Wilson didn't know much about music written before the twentieth century. This music was precise, almost mathematical, yet full of emotion at the same time – a combination of both joy and sadness.

Andie played for about ten minutes. Wilson noticed the way she was almost hugging the instrument, and the expressions that moved across her face. God, she is so beautiful. Wilson thought.

When she was finished, she put the instrument down. "How was it?" she asked.

"I loved it," Wilson replied. "What did you play?"

"It was a Bach piece for solo cello," Andie answered, thinking that Wilson would not particularly care which partita in which key it was.

Wilson wasn't sure what possessed him, but, without even remembering having crossed the room, he found himself standing very close to Andie. He began to stroke her cheek. He wanted to tell her how amazing she was, but he thought whatever words he used would be inadequate. He leaned in to kiss her instead, using his mouth to show her rather than tell her how he felt. She reciprocated, their tongues dancing in each other's mouths.

They continued to kiss for several minutes. When they broke for oxygen, Andie took Wilson by the hand and led him to her bedroom.

It didn't take long for both of them to be out of their clothes. Wilson looked appreciatively at her body. It was both muscular and curvaceous at the same time. He ran his hands along her sides, causing her to shiver with pleasure from his touch. She ran her hands across his chest. She pushed him down on the bed and began to kiss his face, his throat and the sides of his neck, one of his most erogenous spots (north of his belt, anyway). "Your skin is so soft," she murmured into his neck.

"Are you okay with that?" Wilson asked, coming out of his arousal a bit. "Is it masculine enough?"

"It's delicious," Andie replied, continuing to kiss, lick and suck his neck and behind his ears. "There's plenty of manhood here." Andie began to stroke his already excited cock and caress his balls.

Wilson responded by becoming harder. He was straining not to come in her hand. "I need to . . . " he grunted.

"Yeah, me too," Andie acknowledged as she climbed on top of him and guided him into her.

Wilson felt her heat and wetness and almost lost it again. She thinks I'm hot, too, Wilson had a brief flash of satisfaction before his brain became completely dominated by the physical activity he was engaged in. They found a rhythm and continued to ride each other, with Andie pushing down and Wilson pushing up. Andie climaxed first, with her entire body seemingly convulsing around Wilson. He lost it shortly thereafter, vibrating deep inside her.

They found themselves lying side by side as their senses slowly returned.

"I guess last weekend wasn't a fluke," Andie said with a sly grin on her face. "Your performance is consistent, and . . . fantastic."

Wilson both blushed at the praise and felt proud, too. He'd had this women a whopping total of three times, and he couldn't imagine not wanting her for the rest of his life. He had to get control of himself.

Andie began stoking Wilson's chest. Her hand made its way down to his abdomen and drew small circles. Wilson suddenly became conscious of his soft middle. He pushed her hand away, lightly, he hoped.

"What?" Andie asked. "Did that bother you?"

"I'm not exactly a model for six-pack-abs," Wilson confessed. "I know at my age I should either be less self-conscious about it or do something to fix it, but I haven't."

"Wow, there's the problem and then the self-flagellation about not fixing it or not accepting it. It's like a two-for-one-sale," Andie commented, as the smile returned to her face. "You remind me of me."

"Well, as long as we have something in common, we'll at least have something to talk to each other about," Wilson replied, his own smile emerging.

"If you want, I can help you get a little more toned," Andie teased. "There are worse things I can think of than getting sweaty with you on a frequent basis."

"Okay," Wilson said, trying not to let the hurt show in his voice. He was unsuccessful.

"Hey, don't do it on my account," Andie responded. "I think you are fabulous just the way you are."

"Seriously?" Wilson asked.

"Yes," Andie replied. "You are the sexiest man I've been with since, well, ever."

Wilson's self-esteem was such that he didn't want to believe what she said, but what reason would she have to lie to him? And the way she responded to him physically certainly seemed to support her words.

"Oh, shit," Andie exclaimed, looking at the clock. "It's 4:45. We'd better get dressed before our guests arrive."

They both jumped out of bed and started getting into their clothes so quickly that it took a second for what Andie had said to register with Wilson. Our guests. Like it was his home, too. He didn't want to read too much into it, but hearing that made him feel more content than he had in a long time.