Tales of food, sex and friendship

Season 2: Episode 6

April 5, 2011

Willow’s heart was battering against the inside of her ribs as she stood in front of the mirror surveying her reflection. She couldn’t remember being this nervous before a date… ever! She had selected a simple black silk dress that fell just below her knees. A scoop neck emphasised her elegant collarbones and the cinched waist fell into a full skirt, which swirled around her legs as she walked. From behind, the fabric dipped daringly, exposing the length of her alabaster back in a dramatic ‘V’. She sprayed her favourite perfume into the air and walked though it so that the scent fell lightly over her body.

Not bad, she thought, giving herself one last glance in the mirror.

Mia had left an hour before on her date with Nick. Mia didn’t speak about guys all too often – she was an intensely private person when it came to her love life. She had mentioned Nick a few times in passing, which to Willow and Ana indicated true love. Willow hoped the date would cheer her friend up. She had seemed so down since Ana and Tom’s impromptu engagement party the week before.

As she wandered outside to flag down a taxi, Willow’s thoughts turned to her own night ahead. She couldn’t believe that she was finally going on a date with Carlo, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on. And from the twinkle she’d noticed in his eye, he didn’t seem to think she was too bad, either.

Something about him just made her feel so feminine. Not generally a shrinking violet, Willow suddenly found herself quite happy to let this man take total control and lead her wherever he wanted to go.


The taxi came to a halt and Willow peered up at the apartment complex.

“Here?” The taxi driver sounded bored. He probably saw places like this everyday.

She checked the address on the piece of paper. It matched. Taking a deep breath she paid the driver and got out, glad that she had decided on a dressier outfit than she normally would for a first date.

At the crest of a hill overlooking the city, stood an immaculately preserved Art Deco building. In its grounds sat a large swimming pool and, next to that, a tennis court. A floodlit couple dressed in what looked like designer tennis whites were hitting a ball back and forth with skill that suggested professional coaching.

Christ, she thought. How does he afford this place?

She pressed the buzzer.


Even his voice over the intercom sent her mad with desire.

“Top floor.”


He kissed her gently on both cheeks before leading her into the apartment.

“Wow.” Willow had never seen a view quite like it.

Floor-to-ceiling glass panels gave a panoramic view of Melbourne across the Yarra River. City lights twinkled in the distance and the moon shone brightly in the clear sky. She felt as though she had stumbled into a fairy tale.

Willow was snapped out of her reverie by the loud pop of a cork from a bottle of Champagne. She looked towards the open plan kitchen to see Carlo filling two glasses. She had been so taken with the view, Willow had barely noticed how handsome he looked tonight. His hair, still wet from the shower, was pushed back off his face. A light sweater was casually rolled at the sleeves, revealing muscular forearms, and Willow had never seen jeans look so good on anyone. He strode over and handed her a glass of crisp, sparkling wine.

“You look beautiful,” he said, tilting his glass in her direction before taking a sip, his eyes glinting in appreciation.

Willow sipped her Champagne, unable to take her eyes off his. She was sure her heart was beating audibly. He put his glass down, and placed one hand against her smooth cheek. He smelled of soap and spices.

He gently tilted her head and traced her jawline with feather light kisses.

She moaned softly, arching her body towards his. His lips found hers and his tongue expertly probed between her soft lips. She ran her hand down his back, underneath his jumper. His whole body responded and he kissed her with an intensity she had never known. His hands slid over the silk clinging to her curves, under the skirt of the dress then up the entire length of her body before pulling the dress over her head.

“Oh Willow,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Clad only in her black lace underwear, Willow gave him a coy smile before taking his hand and showing him exactly what he had been craving.


Willow opened her eyes slowly. She stretched, the Egyptian cotton sheets smooth against her naked body. The clock next the bed said 10 am. Heady aromas of garlic and olive oil emanated from the kitchen and she realised she was starving. They hadn’t actually managed to eat dinner last night, instead enjoying the delights of each other’s bodies for hours and hours. She found a cotton robe draped over the end of the bed, put it on, and padded into the kitchen.

Carlo had his back to her. He wore nothing but light cotton trousers, the muscles in his back rippling as he moved. When he turned and saw Willow, his face broke into a wide smile. He moved to kiss her deeply before leading her towards the counter where an espresso was waiting. She sat, sipping the coffee and watching him work.

After he had placed the tomatoes in the oven to bake he came around and kissed her again, sliding his hand inside her robe and stroking her soft skin.

“The tomatoes are going to take twenty minutes,” he said softly into her ear.

“Twenty minutes?” she exclaimed with mock-disappointment.

“I think I have a way to pass the time.”


Hours later Willow sat in a taxi on her way home. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. He had fed her breakfast in bed – well, lunch by the time they had managed to eat it – and then they had made love again, falling asleep in each other’s arms. Eventually she’d managed to tear herself away – she still had classes to prepare for tomorrow! But that didn’t matter. Carlo was going to call her and she would see him again very soon.