The market stall in Oaxaca overflowed with ears of corn, their husks peeled back to reveal the swollen, blackened kernels of huitlacoche. Elena traced a finger over the glossy, inky fungus, its earthy scent rising like wet soil after rain. She bought a basketful, the vendor wrapping it in newspaper while she imagined the taste on her tongue, rich and musky.
At home, she spread the kernels on the wooden table, their texture yielding under her thumb. Miguel arrived as the sun dipped, sweat darkening his shirt. He watched her cook, the pan sizzling with garlic and the corn smut softening into a dark, creamy paste. She fed him a spoonful, the flavor coating his lips, and he pulled her close, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that tasted of the field and something deeper.
They moved to the bedroom, clothes falling away. Elena straddled him, grinding slowly as she described the way the smut clung to the corn, thick and insistent. Miguel's hands gripped her hips, guiding her down onto his cock, filling her in one thrust. She rode him with the same deliberate rhythm she used stirring the pan, her wetness mixing with the remnants of the dish they had shared earlier. He thrust up harder, the bed creaking, her clit rubbing against him until she came with a low moan, body clenching around him.
Later, she smeared a trace of the cooled huitlacoche across her breasts. Miguel licked it off, sucking each nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing as his fingers slid between her legs again.
He entered her from behind this time, one hand reaching around to circle her clit while the other pressed her shoulders down. The air smelled of sex and the faint, fermented tang of the fungus. He pounded into her steadily, skin slapping, until he pulled out and came across her lower back in hot pulses.
They lay tangled afterward, the empty bowl on the nightstand. Elena dipped a finger into the last smear of Mexican corn smut and traced it along his shaft, bringing him back to hardness with slow strokes and her mouth. She took him deep, the taste blending with his skin, until he flipped her onto her back and buried himself inside her once more. Their movements grew urgent, her legs locked around him, both of them chasing the final release that left them breathless and spent against the sheets.
The night stretched on with quiet touches and shared bites of the remaining dish, each taste pulling them closer until sleep claimed them.
