“Kitchen Table” outtake from Sylvain Reynard’s Gabriel’s Rapture

At a house in Umbria, Italy

Gabriel and Julia were seated at the kitchen table enjoying their lunch.  Gabriel was playing music over the stereo system and he’d built a fire.

They began with black olive crostini and an arugula salad, followed by pasta with truffles and a side of fresh roasted. Their meal was a leisurely affair and when it was finished and they were sipping their wine, Julia’s eyes fixed on his.

Gabriel seemed rather proud of himself, a smirk firmly plastered across his face as he stared at her over the rim of his wine glass.

Boldly, she placed her hand in his lap and began to stroke him. But her intention was immediately thwarted.  He took her by the wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her softly before winding their fingers together.

“That isn’t necessary,” he murmured.

“But you did something for me.”

“I didn’t do it so you would reciprocate. I did it because I wanted to please you.” His smile widened.  “I pleased you, didn’t I?”

She blushed as she recalled what had caused him to smile and looked down at her napkin.

He reached over to lift her chin.

“That’s better.”

“You’re very – giving,” she observed.

“It’s only what you deserve.”

“You’re the only one who has ever thought so.”

Gabriel frowned.  “Come here.”

He pushed his chair back from the table and opened his arms.  Julia positioned herself sideways on his lap and brought her head to rest against his shoulder.

“How do you feel when you’re in my arms?” he asked.

“Comfortable. Happy.”

“That’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

“Really?”  Her voice was muffled against his chest.

He squeezed her even closer.

“When I was in despair and had alienated my family, you appeared – a brown eyed angel in jeans and sneakers.  You were shy, but you weren’t afraid of me even though you should have been.”

“I was curious. I’d heard a lot about you and I wondered what you were like.”

“When I was mired in depression a second time, when Grace died, you came back to me.  Treating you well is the least I can do. You’re the love of my life, Julianne.”

Julia lifted her head and brought their lips together.  “You’re the love of my life, Gabriel.”

He smiled and kissed her firmly before running the backs of his fingers down her throat.

“I don’t want to take from you, Julianne. I want to give. This trip, our time together, is all about building something for the future. It’s about more than sex, although sex is part of it. An important part.”

Gabriel tapped the end of her nose with his finger.

“Did you know that in Judaism intercourse is the right of the wife? As is an orgasm?”

“You’re kidding.”

Gabriel smiled.  “A husband is obligated to fulfill his wife’s sexual needs and to make sure that she orgasms, preferably before him.”

“Your vast sexual knowledge never ceases to amaze me.”

He laughed. “I suppose I should be flattered by that remark.

“Under the proper circumstances, when done with love, sex can be a mitzvah.”

“And you know this how?”

“I read it in a book – Kosher Sex.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“Lunch might not have been kosher, but sex can be.”

Julia shifted against him.

“How did you know what to do – yesterday?”  Now her voice was small. She didn’t want to reopen the topic of the previous evening’s conversation, but it was important to her to communicate her gratitude, her awe for Gabriel’s understanding.

He seemed surprised by her question and began tapping his foot against the stone floor.

“I love you. You were upset …” He shrugged and his face took on an earnest expression.  “I wanted to do something that would demonstrate I care for you.”

“It was very intimate, very caring.  Thank you.”

Gabriel’s lips tightened and he tapped his foot twice more.

“I saw something once, shortly after Grace found me.  She’d brought me home to live with them.”  He paused, appearing to search for the appropriate words.

“I was given the run of the house. It was late at night and I decided to go downstairs to raid the refrigerator.”  He clenched his jaw.

Julia reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.

“I was just outside the kitchen when I heard Richard and Grace talking. She was insisting that they keep me and he, while not totally opposed to the idea, was arguing that it would be better for me to be with relatives and not strangers.

“I was intrigued by their discussion and so I peeked around the doorway. Grace was leaning against the counter and Richard was standing in front of her. Her hands were covered with suds as if she’d been doing the dishes and her hair had fallen into her eyes.  Richard reached up, probably to push the hair back from her face, and she leaned into his touch.”  Gabriel stared at Julia deliberately.

“Richard told her that he loved her and they began kissing. I backed away from the door and returned to my room.”

Gabriel’s blue eyes grew thoughtful.  “I’d never seen something like that – a man being tender with a woman.  I wondered who these people were and how I found myself in their house.”

His eyes fixed on Julia’s.

“I’ve never been tender with a woman before because I never loved a woman before.  Now that we’re together all I want to do is love you.”

“I love you, too.”  Boldly, Julia moved to straddle his lap, winding her fingers in his thick and unruly hair.

He gripped her lower back and slid his hands underneath her shirt until they were comfortably cupping her backside.

“I think that you’ve forgotten something, Miss Mitchell.”

“And what could that be, Professor Emerson?”

“Your panties,” he whispered, pulling her close until their chests were flush against one another.

Julia was so focused on the kiss that she didn’t notice his fingers fumbling with her buttons until he was slipping the shirt over her shoulders. She shuddered as the air hit her skin.

“This isn’t fair,” she pouted, sitting completely bare on his lap.

“What isn’t fair?”  He smiled as he drew his thumb across her protruding lower lip.

“I’m naked and you’re not.”

His eyes appeared to darken.

“Then undress me, Julianne.”

She quickly undid his shirt and tugged at the fabric, indicating that he should rid himself of it.  In one quick motion, the cotton fell to the floor and he pulled his undershirt over his head.  Then he placed his mouth to her chest.

“I don’t know how to lap dance,” she murmured, her eyes closed and her head falling back.

“You’re already proficient.  Remind me to beg for more in the future.”

“You don’t have to beg.  Ever.”

As Julia’s moans became louder, he stood up and walked her to the kitchen table.  He roughly pushed the dishes and glasses aside, the items crashing and clattering in his wake.

“Lie back,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

Julia climbed onto the table and reclined on her elbows, watching as Gabriel undid his trousers.  He pushed them and his boxer shorts to the floor.  Stepping out of them gracefully, he kicked them and his argyle socks aside. Coming toward her, he grabbed her knees, pulling them apart.

“Ready?”  He gazed down with a kind of frenzied look but his voice was calm, as if he were forcing himself to hold back.


He pulled her legs around his waist, waiting until she was gripping him tightly, and then he entered her with one swift movement.

Oh,” she breathed.

Gabriel stilled, rubbing his thumbs cover her hips.  “Too much?”

She grinned. “Never.”

He took her hand in his, weaving their fingers together.  Then he gripped her hip with his other hand and began his rhythm, biting his lip as he paced himself.

From Julia’s position, it was more comfortable to lie back and stare up at the crystal chandelier but she craned her neck so that she could see his expression.  Gabriel wore a look of focused concentration, his eyebrows knitted, his jaw clenched.

He was not slow.  He was not hesitant.  But he was not unkind.

Reclined as she was atop the wooden harvest table, it wasn’t possible to touch him, but she wrapped her legs more tightly around him and began digging her ankles in the soft flesh of his bottom.

(It was a good thing she wasn’t wearing heels.)

Enmeshed as they were, he went deeper and deeper still.  Julia found a unique, previously unknown pleasure in the angle in which he moved and with every push she found herself crying out for more.

She dragged their connected hands over her head as her lower back bowed off the table, pushing her breasts towards his open mouth.  He tugged at them with his lips as she writhed beneath him, electricity jumping between their sweating forms.

The forward movement of Gabriel’s hips began to generate a knocking sound as he slammed against the table.  He would have bruises, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t even feel the contact, overwhelmed as he was by the feeling of their intense connection.

She wanted to touch him.  She pressed her heels into his backside with greater force, urging him deeper, hoping he would crawl on top of the table and cover her with his body.

With a cry, he did just that, pulling her legs so that they wrapped closer to his shoulders.

His face was inches from hers now and he dipped down to taste her neck, rolling a patch of skin over his tongue before sucking on it.

She arched off the table into an orgasm just as he released her neck.

Gabriel increased his pace, pushing and swirling until he, too, climaxed, collapsing atop her as the tension flowed out of his body.

Julia tried to catch her breath as the lingering tentacles of her release caressed her limbs.  This warmth, this favoured bliss, this afterglow was almost as sweet as the moment of orgasm. Especially because she could look up into the face of her lover and know that their affection was mutual.

Gabriel breathed deeply.  It took a moment or two for his heart rate to slow, but when it did, he pressed his mouth gently to hers.

A warm, sweet smile greeted him.  The smile of contentment and love.  He’d pleased her and she was happy.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Darling, I should be thanking you.”  He kissed her breast and began chuckling.

Her eyebrows lifted.  “What is it?”

“You’re in trouble now, Miss Mitchell.”

“How so?”

He touched the tip of her nose with his finger.  “I have a dining room at my apartment in Toronto.”

She looked puzzled.  “And?”

He brought their foreheads together, dropping his voice to a throaty whisper.  “Imagine what dining table sex will be like.”


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