Served Up

She lay there before his eyes. Her skin almost perfectly smooth. Those areas of her skin that were not perfectly smooth only added to her appeal. He devoured every inch of her with his eyes. Inspecting her, not for flaws, but appreciating every part of her before him, like an art collector inspected great works of art for hours on end. He saw a slight sheen on her skin. A hint of excitement. A hint of things to come.

Her aroma rose to his nose, instantly taking him back to other pleasurable memories. Other feasts of flesh that aroused him. He was taken aback by the intensity of the flood of memories that for a brief moment, threatened to overwhelm him in pleasure. The smile on his face became rapturous as he inhaled deeply taking in her scent.

At his touch, she opened for him. Warm to the touch, almost hot in spots. Juices flowed forth. She was more than ready for him. Her pink skin glistened alluringly; he wanted to dive in, to bury himself inside her. To devour her, but that would ruin the moment. He brought himself under control, running his fingers over her flesh, relishing in the sensation of her juices on his fingertips against her skin.

Her aroma changed in intensity and aroma when she opened; more powerful, more delectable. He knew without having tasting her, she was going to be one of the greatest of his life. He brought his wet fingers to his mouth. Halting for a moment to deeply inhale the aroma of her off of his fingertips before he put his fingertips to his lips.

His fingertips were moist, warm, and had a flavor on them that was familiar, yet unique to her. He resisted the urge to jam his fingers into his mouth and suck the juices off like a child with candy on their fingers. He wanted this moment to last, even though he could see more of those tasty juices waiting for him. When the flavor was gone from his fingers, he savored the remnants of her on his tongue. His eyes never left her.

Now was the time. The moment. He brought her to his mouth. Her skin was warm on his lips, his tongue darted out to taste her before he put his mouth around her. His tongue was impatient, he did not blame his tongue one bit. Smooth to the touch, warm, and juicy. The juices flowed over his tongue to the back of his throat and over his lips down his chin. She was perfect. She was more than ready.

“How is your steak?” The waiter asked.