KINK Talks: Mayonnaise
I am no fan of condiments in general. I do not eat salad dressing, mustard, honey mustard, sweet and sour sauce, relish, tarter sauce, sour cream, Miracle Whip, Heinz 57, sauerkraut, hot sauce, etc. But I especially hate mayonnaise.
The smell of it, the sound it makes when a knife or spoon goes in the jar and breaks its surface, the awful taste of it, it’s gooey sliminess, its thick white pasty look, and its use in so many recipes and dishes. Since I was a child, nothing has ruined more meals for me than its presence.
One day my relationship with mayonnaise forever changed when a former girlfriend was angry with me and offered me a bite of ice cream she was eating. I should have known that it looked different than the rest of the bowl but by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. My mouth had gooey, stinky, vinegary mayonnaise all in it. It was terrible! I ran to the bathroom and spit it out, rinsing violently.
Then I realized her tortuous idea was quite creative and she could probably surprise me in more ways. I also realized just how effective of a tool mayonnaise was due to my particular hatred towards it. It was perfect. It bothered all of my senses at the same time. It made me feel betrayed and seduced all at once.
As weird as it was, I shared this with her and I shared how much I loved and hated this all at once. From then on, sometimes a streak of mayonnaise may appear on her inner thigh or maybe she would buy my lunch and to my surprise, there was several packets of mayonnaise in the bag, one time she tied me down with goggles on and poured a large jar right on my face. There was also the occasional maddening mayonnaise kiss (her lips coated in mayonnaise) to wake me up.
I love the way cold mayonnaise feels on my skin. I also enjoy and equally fear the anticipation of a container of mayonnaise over my head or a spoon of mayonnaise near my mouth. The idea of a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise pressed against my lips with nowhere to go but in my mouth also horrifies and excites me.
This is something I’ve never been cured of but mostly I’ve been afraid to share this with any new women I’ve brought into my life. I did tell one woman and she was enthusiastic but not as creative with it. Most would most definitely be disgusted by it. Because even people that love mayonnaise do not generally like it by itself or in large quantities.
I still hate mayonnaise along with most other condiments I mentioned. I may dip some fries in ketchup or some chicken tenders in barbecue but that’s pretty much it for me.
That walk down the large section of mayonnaise in the grocery store still does something to me. It’s so gross yet so fascinating. A real mystery how I ever got to this place.
Thanks for reading,
HRHB15
I am no fan of condiments in general. I do not eat salad dressing, mustard, honey mustard, sweet and sour sauce, relish, tarter sauce, sour cream, Miracle Whip, Heinz 57, sauerkraut, hot sauce, etc. But I especially hate mayonnaise.
The smell of it, the sound it makes when a knife or spoon goes in the jar and breaks its surface, the awful taste of it, it’s gooey sliminess, its thick white pasty look, and its use in so many recipes and dishes. Since I was a child, nothing has ruined more meals for me than its presence.
One day my relationship with mayonnaise forever changed when a former girlfriend was angry with me and offered me a bite of ice cream she was eating. I should have known that it looked different than the rest of the bowl but by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. My mouth had gooey, stinky, vinegary mayonnaise all in it. It was terrible! I ran to the bathroom and spit it out, rinsing violently.
Then I realized her tortuous idea was quite creative and she could probably surprise me in more ways. I also realized just how effective of a tool mayonnaise was due to my particular hatred towards it. It was perfect. It bothered all of my senses at the same time. It made me feel betrayed and seduced all at once.
As weird as it was, I shared this with her and I shared how much I loved and hated this all at once. From then on, sometimes a streak of mayonnaise may appear on her inner thigh or maybe she would buy my lunch and to my surprise, there was several packets of mayonnaise in the bag, one time she tied me down with goggles on and poured a large jar right on my face. There was also the occasional maddening mayonnaise kiss (her lips coated in mayonnaise) to wake me up.
I love the way cold mayonnaise feels on my skin. I also enjoy and equally fear the anticipation of a container of mayonnaise over my head or a spoon of mayonnaise near my mouth. The idea of a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise pressed against my lips with nowhere to go but in my mouth also horrifies and excites me.
This is something I’ve never been cured of but mostly I’ve been afraid to share this with any new women I’ve brought into my life. I did tell one woman and she was enthusiastic but not as creative with it. Most would most definitely be disgusted by it. Because even people that love mayonnaise do not generally like it by itself or in large quantities.
I still hate mayonnaise along with most other condiments I mentioned. I may dip some fries in ketchup or some chicken tenders in barbecue but that’s pretty much it for me.
That walk down the large section of mayonnaise in the grocery store still does something to me. It’s so gross yet so fascinating. A real mystery how I ever got to this place.
Thanks for reading,
HRHB15
1 month