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#Apple #Flashfiction #Erotica

November 20, 2010

 We took our time in the hot dusty market place, selecting the ripest, the juiciest of the fruit on display. You had to have your apples, red as always, so big I could hardly hold them in my slender hands. We ambled home, attentive to the scenes around us, making the most of free time and marvelling at the world and it’s occupants. You place our string bag full of fruit on our table, they tumble and fall though still confined within their bounds of mesh. Unable to wait, you select the biggest of your apples, lifting it to your face so that you can take in its scent.

 I find I am rapt by the minutiae of your movements, as you pick up your book and head for the window seat. Your body sways slowly through the room, by now so familiar that you can read and walk at the same time. Once seated your attention is drawn once again to the smooth, shiny, red treasure you have selected. I watch you intently, delighting in the way you devour the apple with a look, before it ever reaches your mouth.

As your teeth slowly puncture the skin and the flesh, revealing the white crisp interior, I see the sticky sweet juice wet your lips and chin. Flecks of moisture pepper your page and you attempt to wipe it away with your sleeve, leaving streaks across the words. I move to you now, I want to taste the sweetness of your mouth, feel the sticky contact of your lips against mine.

As I take your face I my hands, your gaze, direct, shows me the evidence of your desire and your pupils dilate. My skin tingles at the mixing of our breath and I feel the soft touch of your tongue against my lip. My hands, now on your hips, draw you forward in the chair, as our mouths meet and your sweetness excites my taste buds. My breath comes faster as I hook my fingers under your waist band and expose you, the object of my hunger.

moving down, I brush my lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, your chest, lifting your t-shirt to expose the velvet flesh beneath. I kiss and taste your skin, grazing your hips with my teeth and nails and my cool fingers enfold your rigidity. I trace my tongue over the slickening tip of your cock, you rock your hips toward me, a physical embodiment of your need. Your sighs delight me, as the soft warmth of my lips and tongue close over you and caress your hardness, drawing out your desire, feeding on your elation. Your fingers slide into the tangle of my hair as you try to push against me.

I hold your hips to stifle your movement and gently tease you until you begin to throb and twitch against my mouth. I hear you whisper, “Please.” I build my rhythm now, matching your movement with my own, inciting your climax. At the peak of your ecstasy I sink down on to you, your cock then held firm by the soft clamp of lips and tongue. As the flood of heat jets from you and pours across my tongue I drink you down, your body at first tense and taut, then suddenly languid softened by the pulse of release.  

 I savour your taste, the look and the feel of you, as to me, you are delicious.

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