Date: Thu, 11 Aug 2005 00:41:03 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Drizzle-N-Lick

			      DRIZZLE-N-LICK
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     When I answered the phone, I heard Decatur's distinctive voice on the
other side. "You done come on home now." he said peremptorily.
     "It's mid-afternoon!" I protested.
     "That don't make no never mind." He said. To call the heavy Cajun
tones in his voice a drawl would have insulted it, it flowed like honey,
deep, thick and so, so sweet.
     "But I can't just walk out of here!" I said. "What's my boss going to
say?"
     "You tell him to come by `bout seven o'clock tonight and we go'n'
t'give `im a special dinner is what." Decatur said. "You tell that to any
other friends you got there."
     "I don't think Mr. Clevins is going to let me out from work three
hours early just for the promise of a free meal." I said skeptically.
     "He will if'n you tell him just how special it is." Decatur said
confidently.
     "So how special is it?" I asked, looking up. Mr. Clevins was coming my
way.
     "I done got Great Uncle Bokins' recipe for his Drizzle-N-Lick barbecue
sauce, is how." Decatur said.
     "You're not kidding me, are you?" I said. God, my hand holding the
phone receiver was trembling! "You really got the Drizzle-N-Lick recipe? My
God, Decatur, you mean he really gave you the recipe?"
     "He said I was the one to inherit it, and he wanted to give it me
afore he passed on." Decatur told me proudly. God, he had every right to be
proud!
     Mr. Clevins was up to me by then. "I'll be home soon as I can." I
said, my voice as weak as my fingers by then. "My God, even if I have to
quit, I'll be home soon as I can."
     "I be waiting." Decatur said and hung up.
     "You're quitting?" Mr. Clevins said, but he smiled to show he didn't
mean it.
     "Mr. Clevins, I want to invite you and your wife to my home tonight at
seven o'clock for a very special barbecue dinner." I said. "I need to go
home now to help Decatur set it up, but believe me, sir, when you taste the
barbecue sauce he'll be using, you'll be glad you let me go."
     He cocked his head on one side. "So you're wanting the rest of the day
off?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "The barbecue sauce is that good? What was that you called it,
Drizzling Lick?"
     "Drizzle-N-Lick." I clarified. "Good from the moment you drizzle it
over the meat until the moment you lick it off your fingers." I was quoting
Decatur's Great Uncle Bokins. "It's a family recipe that Decatur's family
has been guarding for well over a century. Decatur has just inherited the
recipe." I'd tasted his Great-Uncle's barbecue sauce at every family
reunion they'd held. God, it was good! There's a flavor to Cajun cooking
that you just can't fake, somehow. You have to know how to make it right,
and to make it right, you have to be born to it. Just a touch sweet, hot
enough to make you expect flames to shoot out of your mouth after each
bite, and yet you ate every bite and wished there were more! And now, God,
now, I could have it any time I wanted! Just ask Decatur to make it...or
maybe, just maybe, he'd even show me how to make it for myself!
     I know what you're thinking, you saying, "Hey, it's just barbecue
sauce!" You say that because you've spent your entire life pouring a
pitifully pale imitation of it out of bottles or eating pretentious fakes
at restaurants. But the real barbecue sauce, the genuine article, that
takes more than they can ever put into any bottle or serve up at any café
table. You say that because you have never tasted Decatur's Great Uncle
Bokin's Drizzle-N-Lick barbecue sauce! I had...and lived my life since
waiting for another chance to taste it again!
     I got out the door after inviting twelve of my co-workers to the
barbecue, all of whom would bring a guest. I knew that Decatur would want
as many people around as possible to enjoy his family inheritance.
     I got home and the smell in our kitchen was heavenly. I recognized the
smell from my visits with Decatur to Louisiana; the smell of the
Drizzle-N-Lick barbecue sauce being made. Onions had been chopped, as had
peppers, and the spice rack's bottles were spread all over the place. In
the middle of it, Decatur was there, wearing only a pair of plain yellow
jams, his broad, hairless chest bore up against it a large yellow mixing
bowl, and wearing a smile on his face that sang of Mardi Gras.
     "Good you be here." Decatur said, his golden mop disarranged above his
regally regular face, a bit long in the jowl and square in the nose-ridge
(curved, not broken). "You get to crushing that there garlic for me."
     I obeyed humbly, while I studied the array of spices. Which ones had
been used, which ones hadn't? The cumin, definitely. And the cayenne
pepper, that taste was unmistakable. But the others? Had he added oregano?
Garlic salt? He COULDN'T have put curry into it!
     "Decatur?" I said as I finished crushing the garlic and brought the
saucer over to him.
     "Yes?" Decatur smiled and leaned over, kissed me.
     I smiled at that, and said, "Are you going to tell me what we're doing
here? I can help you better if I know how to do it?" I said hopefully.
     Decatur set the stirring spoon into the bowl and reached up and cupped
my cheek. "Where was Great Aunt Maybelle when Great Uncle Bokins made his
barbecue sauce?" he asked me.
     "I don't know." I admitted.
     "She sit on the porch or she work in her garden." he said. "He never
tell her, never in all the years they marry. It stay in our family, that
way. Only one know the secret. Nobody else. Nobody."
     "So...if Great Uncle Bokin is still making it, does that mean you
can't make it?" I said.
     Decatur shook his head. "When he turn it over to me, he turn it all
over. He no make it anymore. I make it now for all the family. We go to
every family reunion from now on, okay?"
     "Sure." I said. "I like your family, you know that. They've all been
great to me." I was welcomed by Decatur's family like any new member who
joined by marriage. If I had any complaints, it was that their welcomes
were sometimes a bit too expansive. How much home-made liquor can one man
consume before he passes beyond the bounds of sociability and into
incipient alcoholism? I'd had to crowd that definition every visit there
and come close to offending them in order to be sober for the drive home!
     "So I keep the secret. I give my word of honor." Decatur said. "You
understand me, yes?"
     "Oh, I understand, on one condition." I said. "You gave Great Uncle
Bokin your word and will keep it, and you have to keep your word to me on
this."
     "What be it?" Decatur wanted to know.
     "You make this barbecue sauce for me anytime I ask for it." I
said. "And I intend to ask for it often."
     He smiled. "I do that. We keep a bowl of it in the refrigerator." he
agreed. "It keep well for near a week in there."
     "No longer?" I was surprised. It was barbecue sauce, after all!
     "Not and keep its flavor." Decatur said. "It turn bad in four-five
day."
     "So that's why you've never tried to bottle it." I said in
comprehension.
     "Oh, we tried." Decatur said. "But the recipe, it don't keep."
     "Okay." I said. "I won't pry into the family secret in exchange for
the bowl kept in the refrigerator, fresh twice a week."
     Decatur gave me that honeyed smile of his. "We done got us a deal. All
we got to do now be the initiation ritual."
     "What's that?" I hadn't heard about this part!
     "When a new man is given the making of the recipe, the first time,
there is a ritual."
     "So what is this ritual?" I asked.
     "We go out to the back yard and make the first batch just for you and
me." he said. "That's what this bowl is. It be why I wanted you home
early."
     "Oh." I said. "Well, as long as this ritual says I get some of Great
Uncle Bokin's Drizzle-N-Lick barbecue sauce, I'm ready and willing."
     "Oh, you get plenty of the barbecue sauce." Decatur said.
     "Then let's go!" I said. God, that barbecue sauce was practically
intoxicating! It didn't contain alcohol, it touched other senses that had a
lot of the same effect. When you ate it, your body came alive in a way you
never knew it could! I know I'm talking like some sort of barbecue-sauce
addict or something here, but really, the only thing I can compare it to is
the flavor of ice cream on a hot afternoon, the joy of your first climax
and the white spunk shoots out of your cock that first time and it's all
new, new! Ice cream isn't a climax and neither of them were barbecue sauce,
but it's all part of the same family of sensations that invade your body
and you crave them from then on.
     So I went with Decatur out to our patio, and saw he had already set up
the barbecue grille out there. It was a gas grille, which Decatur didn't
like, saying we needed to build a real brick barbecue in the backyard. If
we were going to be hosting his family, I was ready to agree with him.
     But he didn't mention the gas grille, he just said, "Now we start the
ritual of the Drizzle-N-Lick barbecue sauce."
     "Okay." I said. "What's first?"
     "Take your clothes off."
     I'd had enough odd Cajun rituals not to worry overmuch about that part
of it. Some of their rituals had some voodoo elements to it, well, to my
own untrained eye, they did. Getting naked in the backyard, with our fence
around it and no nosy neighbors to see, was fine with me.
     "So far, I'm liking this initiation ritual." I said, grinning as I
shucked out of my shirt. I was wearing loafers that were easy to pull off
and the socks. That left only my pants and undershorts, and I said as I
reached for my fly, "Are you getting naked, too?"
     "Later." He said. "Come on, we got to move afore the guests start
arriving."
     "We have over two hours." I pointed out as I shucked off my
pants. "Should I call them and tell them eight o'clock instead?"
     "No." he said. But we better move anyhow."
     I pulled off my briefs. "You're in charge here. What now?"
     He put his barbecue sauce brush into the bowl. "Now we give this sauce
the first drizzle."
     "Where?" I said. "We don't have any meat here." Other than.... "Oh,
no!" I said quickly.
     "Yes, we do." He said, and he brought the barbecue-sauce-laden brush
up out of the bowl.
     I braced myself for what I knew was about to happen. That sauce landed
right on my cock!
     Now, I don't know if you've ever put barbecue sauce on your cock. My
only comment about it is...don't! Those peppers and onion juice in it will
burn your glans like mad!
     My cock was burning, and I was yelping like any kicked puppy when
Decatur knelt down and put his mouth right over the barbecue sauce-covered
glans.
     He sucked at my cockhead, and I do mean sucked. His saliva was warm
and soothing, he was doing his best to suck that barbecue sauce not only
off of my cock, but right out of my skin.
     God, that felt good! Not the barbecue sauce, that still stung like
blazes, but the soothing love of his lips, of his saliva, that poured onto
my ravaged skin and made my life better again.
     Better. God, yes, better! The skin had been dragged into agony by the
peppers inflaming the nerves, that excess of sensation was now turning into
pleasure at Decatur's ministrations, the joy that was racing up from my
cock into my brain was about double what it would normally be. Every nerve
I had in my dick was screaming at me, the yells of pain converted into
yells of joy.
     "Oh, God!" I groaned out. "Oh, God, yes!"
     It was like I was hovering on the very edge of climax, my body unable
to make that last short climb into orgasm. You normally get to that point
slowly, over a period of time, building up slowly. This was getting there
without any of that, I was suddenly, shockingly, there, right there, but my
body wasn't ready any other way. All the sensations, none of the waiting,
it sustained itself at the very verge of the chasm of ejaculation, leaving
me dangling there, dangling over the abyss, ready to plunge in, needing to
plunge in, but unable to let go!
     Decatur left off my glans, now he was licking at the sauce that had
landed on my foreskin, this skin was tougher and less delicate, the
discomfort of the glans wasn't there. This was just pleasant stimulation of
my skin, nice, but not demanding. After the orgasmic pleasure of the sauce
removal off my skin, this was like coming home.
     His tongue was now working on my balls. I don't know if they had any
sauce on them, and I'm not sure he cared either. Decatur gives the best
damned blowjobs, it was part of why I loved him. Not that there wasn't
plenty of other things to love about him; but hell, you take the best with
the rest!
     So as my balls got their bath of love-juices from his sauce-stained
lips, I said to him, "So what's the next part of this ritual. If you think
for one second I'm letting you use that sauce as a lubricant while you fuck
me, you are one crazy Cajun!"
     He chuckled, a nice feeling against my testicles, a short
vibration. "You were giving me ideas." he admitted. "No, the ritual itself
is over, the first drizzle is delivered. We can start cooking for our
guests now."
     "That's what you think." I said to him. "How about you lose those jams
so we can finish what we started here?"
     "But we got people coming." He protested. But he was pulling off his
jams. "They come soon."
     "So will I." I agreed. "You want it down on the patio or up on the
picnic table?" We had a large wooden one in our yard, we'd had (regular)
barbecue parties ever since we'd taken this place three years ago.
     "I go up on the table." He decided.
     "Fine." I panted. "God, that sauce turned my prick into a freaking sex
machine. Once I got past the pain of it, ye gods!"
     "I always wondered about that part." he admitted as he crawled up onto
the tabletop, pushing the bowl of barbecue sauce off to one edge. We had
done this before, but not in a long time.
     I'd forgotten how hard the wood was on my knees. I was reminded as I
crawled up to straddle his head. Damn, it was like there were splinters
going into my knees!
     Then his lips wrapped around my cock again and I forgot all about
it. His own dong beckoned to me. And while Decatur gave some incredible
blowjobs, I wasn't any slouch in that department myself.
     Decatur groans so nicely when you suck on him, such liquid syllables
of pleasure, that it makes the entire experience better. I forgot about the
needles in my knees, I was too wrapped up in the renewed hyperawareness in
my cock as Decatur's mouth worked its magic on me, and loving the feel of
his sturdy Cajun dong in my own, the power of raw steel inside of his warm
velvet body, so strong and so confident. Decatur's life was rooted in his
heritage and in his family, and I was blessed, so damned blessed, to be a
part of it. I had embraced his family and was richer for their acceptance
of me. Added to that was Decatur's pride in everything that was his, he was
the recipient of his family's highest honor, and I could bask in the glow
of that light, for it shone in him and through him, and this was the life
he had chosen to share with me.
     Decatur's cock was throbbing in my mouth, and my own prick was finally
catching up to the joy of the heightened nerves, I was going to shoot
pretty soon and I wondered what the scalding of the barbecue sauce was
going to do to my orgasm.
     I wasn't going to have to wait much longer, anyhow, Decatur's body was
thrusting up, driving his dong into my mouth, which is what he always did
when he got close, and my own delight awoke to that prompting, yes, God,
yes, my Cajun lover and I were about to shoot together again! I loved it
that way, loved it!
     My cockhead boiled with the approach of climax, this was harder, more
intense, than my usual orgasm, the nerves were screeching out as they
struggled to deliver on my order of ecstasy. I was being wracked with an
intensity I had never experienced before, this was like my body was being
jolted by a sort of torture, only this was pleasure not pain, this was
enhanced delight, this was overwhelming joy, this was...this was it!
     "OHHH, OHHH, OHHH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHUGUHHHHHH!" I groaned as my climax
finally hit me. Even that had a strained quality to it, a taste of raw
nerves yelling as they performed their bit in the chains of
pepper-enlivened ecstasy, I rode a bucking bronco of lust as I squirted my
jism down into Decatur's suctioning maw, and was rewarded by his own moans
of joy and the hot spunk jetting up into my mouth. Mmmm, the luscious
flavor of Decatur's seed! I never tired of it, even after more than six
years together, I still loved the way it tasted on my tongue, fresh out of
his cock, it was a flavor that I was as addicted to as any barbecue sauce!
     God, that barbecue sauce! As Decatur's climax ended and I caught my
own breath, I reached over and picked up the bowl of barbecue sauce, and I
poured it on his stomach, just a good-sized dollop, and as he panted,
looking down at the mess I'd made, I leaned down and stuck out my tongue to
lick at it.
     "What are you doing?"
     "You took care of the drizzle at the first." I said to him. "Now I'm
taking care of the lick at the end."
     "Good from one end to the other." Decatur affirmed.
     I leaned down and lolloped up a big dab of it onto my tongue. Tasted
it.
     Decatur saw my face. "What's wrong?" he asked me.
     "Something's wrong with the barbecue sauce." I said to him. "Are you
sure you put in enough cumin?"
     "I put in one-half of a teaspoon." Decatur said. "Just what Great
Uncle Bokin told me."
     "How about the cayenne pepper?" I asked him. "Did you use the right
amount?"
     "I put in..." Decatur caught me then. "You trying to trick me, aren't
you?"
     "Yep." I grinned at him. "I got one part of the recipe now. I figure
if I keep at it, I'll get the rest of it sooner or later." Like, forty or
fifty years!
     "I've got me a sneak for a lover." Decatur false-mourned his
fate. "What am I going to do?"
     "Right now?" I said. "You're going to get up and go make another
batch. We got a heck of a lot of people coming to dinner in another hour
and a half. I figure about sixty or so from my work."
     "We better get cooking." Decatur agreed. "You better run to the store
and buy us some more chickens."
     "Barbecue chicken, made with Great Uncle Bokin's Drizzle-N-Lick
barbecue sauce." I said, licking my lips. "I'll want an entire chicken just
for me."
     "You got that wrong." Decatur said.
     "How?" I wanted to know.
     "It's Decatur's Drizzle-N-Lick barbecue sauce I be making."
     "You're right." I said. "That's even better. And I'll get it more
often, too."
     Not to mention the sauce from the cook!

				  THE END
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