This morning, it was perfect.
Just the right combination between hard and soft.
I could tell it was ready because it jiggled just a little when you touched it for me, but it sprung right back in place. Right then, I knew it was going to be good.
You knew it too.
You looked at it like you hadn’t eaten in weeks; I even saw a little bit of saliva drip off the corner of your lip as you put your hands close and felt the heat. You reached out to touch it, to get a bit of the flavor in your mouth, but I slapped your hand away, taunting you, waving it close to your face, inches from your lips, but then pulled away.
I knew the flavor was going to be good and the anticipation of seeing your reaction was almost better than the real thing.
I new you were going to put it in your mouth, roll it around a little bit, moan with your mouth closed and just savor the taste, just a hint of salt, and the strong spice of your favorite meat.
You started bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed. “Come On!” you shout, “Give it to me... Please…. I’m sooooo hungry and it looks soooooo good.”
“Do you promise to swallow?” I asked.
“Swallow?” you moaned, “I’m going to devour it. I’m going to let it roll over every taste bud. I’m going to let it sit on my tongue until the heat is too much to bear, and then I’m going to throw my head back and swallow every last taste. And then, my dear, I’m going to ask for seconds. Can you handle that? Can you give me two servings?”
“If you keep talking like that I’ll give you a dozen.”
“Are you ready?” I asked as I stood up.
“Yes” Was your reply. Your voice was barely above a whisper as I crossed over to you.
I stood close with it in my hand. Outside the window, I could hear the leaf-blower in our neighbor’s driveway and the squeaky doors of the school bus picking up the kids for school. I move in close and you spread your legs to let me in closer. My knees brushed against your inner thighs and you leaned against me.
“Close your eyes” I murmured.
“I want to taste it,” you say in that dreamy, hungry voice you get in the morning.
“Open your mouth”
Your eyes closed as your head tilted back and your tongue comes out, pink and wet and ready. My tongue is jealous that it is not the chosen one.
Your beautiful face radiates up at me and it’s all I can do to keep myself from bending over to kiss you gently on the forehead. Your hair spills over your bare shoulders and covers your chest, hiding the gently sloping curves.
“Feed Me” you moan. And I comply.
I put it in your mouth and your lips close around it. True to form, you moan and I get goose bumps from the sound. Your jaw moves as it bounces back and forth across your full sensuous tongue. I can see your eyes rolling up in your head as you savor the taste and pull the fragrance in through your nose.
I can almost feel it moving to the back of your throat, my favorite point is about to arrive.
Your throw your head back and swallow. You take your time, savoring, enjoying, memorizing how it feels.
I step back, smiling, watching.
As you calm down your eyes open and meet mine. You smile seductively and lick your lips.
“That was delicious.” You say with a pout, “I love the way you make scrambled eggs. Did you make hash browns? I’m starving.” I hand over your breakfast plate and get out of the way. Your TV show is on, and I’m late for work.
“Bye Honey” is the last thing I hear before the door closes behind me.