Damnato: A Tale of Italian Summer Love 🍅





I had an experience in my kitchen whilst I was making dinner this evening and I'd love to share it with you guys. I was making a pasta dish and what do pasta dishes usually call for? Tomato sauce. I couldn't get the jar open to save my life. While the beef was browning on the stove and the peppers were seasoning, I was making a complete asshole out of myself because I couldn't get the jar to open, so I exclaimed my frustrations to my friend Abby and herein lies the tale that I'd like to share with you folks. She jokingly suggested to me, "Why don't you wine and dine it?" and that was all I needed. I joked that I'd take the jar out for a nice dinner and she lovingly labelled that idea "Damnato". Yes, she gave it a goddamn ship name. I couldn't just hold my tongue then, I knew I had to expand on this concept and turn it into something completely uncalled for. 

Is our hero Daniel doomed to sauceless nights? Will he ever taste the savoury nectar that her garter lid protects?

"So, um, my name's Daniel and I was wondering if you'd like to go someplace. You know, somewhere warm and cosy where we can get to know each other a little better." Tomata bats her eyelashes as he slides his finger of the base of her jar. "I'd like that." She coos. "Come." He pulls her toward the door and they make their way out into the late summer evening. The air is thick with the smell of pasta and the warm tones of the sky are as inviting as ever. 
....

Daniel gently wraps his arm around Tomata, guiding her into the Wine Cellar. "This place is a local haunt of mine." I whisper to her, his voice thick with suggestion. "Here we are." He carefully removes his arm from around her waist to pull out a chair for her. She blushes an even deeper red and lets out a shy, girlish giggle. Daniel lights the candle in the centre of the table before sitting down. "This light compliments your colouring." "You're too sweet." "Well, I am made with fresh basil." "I'm a sucker for fresh herbs."
The waiter arrives at Tomata's elbow, ready to take their order. "What can I get you two love birds this evening?" "I'll take a vodka and coke, and the lady will have a glass of Merlot....Better yet, bring the bottle." "Very good, sir." The waiter offers a nod and small bow before departing to fetch the drinks. "Are you trying to get me drunk this evening?" Her blush deepens. "Well..." He smirks. "Let's see just where this bottle takes us." The waiter sets the glasses in front of them and sets the bottle to the side.  "I'll return to take your orders." He scampers away as Daniel lifts his glass. "To a beautiful evening with a devilishly saucy lady." The pair lean in to cross arms and drink. "To an evening of adventure." She replies, winking at Daniel as she sits back down. 

....
Later that night, once she is sufficiently wined and fed, Daniel takes her to his bed and lays her down. He slithers up the flannel sheets and wraps one of his long, hairy, tattooed legs around her. "Oh, Daniel..." He presses his finger to her tops. "I know, Tomata. I know. I feel it too." He lays a trail of soft, hungry kisses down her jar. "Didn't you get enough to eat at the restaurant?" She asks him, a hint of sexiness in her tone. "Daddy's hungry for a little somethin' else." "Oh, you naughty boy!" She exclaims, twisting her thin fingers through his curls. "Take me you English stud monkey!" Tomata moans, pulling Daniel's face between her lid and her seal. "Use your big, strong, inked hands to unlock my secrets so that my love juices are enough to sustain you through the night!" He doesn't have to be told twice. "Yes, ma'am!"
His hands are warm, soft and powerful against her seal. Gently, he begins to stroke around the entire lid. "Almost there baby!" She pants as he alternates between finger and tongue. "Play me like I'm your baby grand." He obliges, his fingers increasing in speed and passion. "You're almost ready to pop. I can smell it." Three. Two. One. He counts to himself before her seal burst open sending a wave of red, salty and well-seasoned contents all over his face. His soft, brown curls dripping with her contents, he takes a finger to collect some of it to taste. He allows his finger to linger in his mouth before commenting, "You're welcome, missus."

....
And that is the story of how I opened a jar of tomato sauce. Well not really, but it did explode all over me. I needed something to entertain myself while I tried to open the jar, so this is what I texted Abby as I struggled. I know it's kinda stupid and cheesy, but we found the entire thing hilarious. Only I could take a simple thing like opening a jar of tomato sauce into a deviant exploit and laugh at it. Maybe I should explore this filthy, sarcastic humour with Melfi. Then again, she doesn't like some of the things I have to say. Sure, I get a bit raunchy in there, but she needs to know the real me in order to help me. But is that the real me though? Do we ever know our true selves? Is this life just an exercise, an adventure to discover ourselves before we pass onto a new existence? What if this is the only existence we will ever know and we are left only muddling through these questions? Oh shit, here we go again.

Comments

Popular Posts