A man gets hungry sometimes. Sometimes a man needs to just eat. Other times, a man has more carnal desires.
I had gotten home late, miserable from working overtime. Damn my boss to hell. I couldn't even order out for some Chinese. Despite it, I was home now. I hung up my jacket, untucked my shirt, and went to the fridge. I opened it, and scanned its meager contents. Then, my eyes fell upon ambrosia in shrinkwrap. A thick, juicy red steak. I unconsciously began to drool at the sight of the thick cut of meat. With a huge grin on my face, I pulled out the steak, released it from its plastic prison. I rubbed it with garlic, and pepper, lovingly... tenderly...
Steak alone does not a meal make, of course. I got a can of string beans, and a packet of instant mashed potatoes with garlic. However, these were secondary to the pure wonder of beef. I fired up the little electric grill I kept on the counter for such an occasion. The metal coils grew red with heat. It was so hot, I had to remove my work shirt. Standing over the grill in a T-Shirt and Khakis, I felt so wonderful. The steak hit the grill with a hiss and a sizzle. While the one side cooked, I prepared the potatoes and string beans, or at least tried to.
The smell of the steak was intoxicating. It was like the perfume of an exotic woman, only you could eat it. I dare not touch it, though, lest I ruin it. I have to be patient. I stared at the cooking meat as it turned from red to brown. I picked up a pair of tongs and flipped the steak over on the grill. Another hiss, and another sizzle...
The mashed potatoes had long congealed into a solid lump. A sort of starchy Bose-Einstein Condensate. The string beans were burnt to the sides of the pot. The water they boiled in had long since evaporated. There was nothing but me and my steak. I lightly touched its warm surface. I felt the juices rise from inside. A grin, sardonic and lustful crossed my face as I picked up my knife and fork. I licked my lips. The steak sat on my plate, tantalizing my senses, giving me a tingling sensation throughout my body. I gave in to my lust.
An hour later, I sat on edge of my bed, smoking a cigarette. Tears slowly streamed down my face. "Why did I do it?" I asked myself. "I killed her." No-one knew my pain. It was only natural to eat what you cooked. I just wanted more. I only wanted something more.