1 Guy 2 Spoons Novels & Stories

The hand holding the spoon of food freezed in the air as she observed him. Seconds passed and he stood there at the door watching her as she assessed him curiously. Still looking at him, she finally dipped the spoon of food into her mouth. She cocked her head, the spoon still in her mouth. Her brow scrunched up as she kept staring at him with the spoon still in her mouth. "Wouldn't she chew the food in the spoon?" Mr Jones wondered as his gaze riveted to the spoon she still held in her mouth. He finally closed the door and walked in.

"We found a backup phone at Shawn's place. There's a record of a call at 11:30 last night. "It lasted for three minutes. He was talking to you, but you claimed to have no contact with him after leaving the restaurant. What about that, then?" My mind buzzed as fury coursed through my veins.

A short, clipped vocalization aimed at me with the unmistakable tone of a demand. Then she holds out the spoon. Not drops it. Not throws it. Holds it out. Arm extended, spoon wobbling in her grip, aimed in my direction. Her expression is dead serious. The face of a tiny negotiator presenting terms. I take it. Her fingers release. Mine close. The spoon is warm from her grip, lightweight, carved from pale wood with visible tool marks. Silas made this. I can tell from the slight unevenness of the handle, the practical shape, the absence of decoration. Form without performance.

I kept it back on the tray and said, "Then dig in." I said, then picked the spoon, because he made the noodles in a way that they had liquid on them, which means that you need a spoon for them. I used the spoon and tried to eat them, but as expected, he did not cut the noodles into small pieces. For a person using the spoon, you had to interchange between the fork and the spoon, and there was only one spoon and fork lying on the tray. He picked up the food and started eating. He must be really hungry because he did not notice that I was not eating for the first two minutes.

“Stand up!” The four members of my party stood up sheepishly. I waved at them. They nervously waved back like contestants in a ‘who can act the most awkward’ competition. It was a four-way dead heat. The frogman looked confused. “What exactly are you people?” It was a good question. “Do we have a deal?” He nodded. “Wait!” said the female. She held up two fingers. “Two pots. And a big spoon.” I smiled — a fellow spoon lover. “Okay.” All that time thinking violence was the answer when the only weapon I needed was good old capitalism.

I asked the girl as I placed the empty red cup on the table. "Sure," she said as she took another red cup and handed it over to me. "Make it another one," I said as I took the cup from her. "You better slow down with those," the one guy said beside her. "I think he is right," Spooky appeared beside me.

I held my breath and looked at the spoon that was so close to my nose. I gulped as I looked at the person pointing the spoon at me. I was a chubby man, with a handlerbar mustache and a chief cap on. He kinda remains me of the fake Italian chief from a K-drama movie i watched a couple of months ago.. What was it again? Ah, Yes, Vincenzo. Shaking my head at that thought, I watch the man being down the spoon and drop it on the counter. "What were you trying to do?" He asked, folding his hand and I cleared my throat to answer but he cut me off "That," He said pointing to the soup on the pot, "is for the Alphas"

Weighing his options, he decided that asking for Emily’s help to find the extra spoon and suffering temporary shame at not knowing where the things were located in his house was better than suffering Favian’s wrath. “I can’t find enough spoons. Do you know where we keep the extras?” Ah, so that's why Darren looked so stressed. Earlier, Emily had already checked. There were no extra dinner spoons. However, there were other types of spoons that she could use. “It’s alright. You can give Mr Beowulf the dinner spoon. I will use the teaspoon. It’s slightly smaller, but it would work the same.”

Ava rolls her eyes. The meat on the plate is cut neatly and as small as possible... The pair of fork and knife are ignored on the table as the spoon became the main tool so that the girl will not get hurt by the sharpness... For the facts that she has been holding scalpels since she was seven...the intimate action pretty much underestimates her pride... The man scoops out some pieces of meats making sure they fit the spoon and blows to cools it down before feeding her another... His eyes are stamped with two big heart shapes that almost makes the girl flinches from her scheme...

Squeezing his body harder against mine, the edge of the metal tray pushes into my stomach as Bennett leans across me and grabs a long wooden spoon from the carafe of them I keep on the table. "My spoon?" I ask, watching him select one. He slaps the bottom of the spoon on the table, the banging loud and unexpected causing me to jump. "Don't ask questions." Holy shit. My pussy convulses. This kind of bossy Bennett I could get used to. Maybe.