Whole Meal

Aw fuck, babe. I was tryin' to wait for a more opportune night, but good lord, something's happening to me. Couldn't stay awake on the couch, but now that I'm here, alone, in bed, there's no sleep to be had as thoughts of you… oh, my god, the thoughts of you…

Forget how we get here. I start standing behind you, wrapping you up in my arms in a loving embrace… but you can feel the bear in me stirring. Not one to pass up an opportunity, you let out one of those delicious hums and arch your back, just a bit, just enough to let me feel you against me. Already barely contained, that simple motion unleashes the beast, and I take my arms from around you — hands, passing unhurriedly over your breasts — before pushing you up against the dining room table. Sweeping whatever game we had been playing out of the way, I put a hand on your back and gently, but in a way that brooks no argument, push you forward, til those perfect breasts are resting among some scattered cards we missed.

And then, once I have you exactly where I have always dreamed of having you, I get on my knees, lift your skirt out of my way, and finally — finally — find out your taste.

And I'm not talking about those sweet honeyed lips of yours here. Oh, gosh, babe, no.

So I guess my question is, is this my appetizer, or my dessert?

Or, babe. Just for tonight…

Could this be my whole-ass meal?

Mmmm. I'll be considerin' it.

Goodnight, sweet beauty. Sweet dreams!