by Annika Jones
(06/25/08)
"I want to feel your clit on my tongue."
She stops eating and stares at me.
It makes me smile. How I love that look. How I love to shock her into being horny.
I stab a piece of tomato with my fork, with no intention of actually eating it. When she looks at me like this, the rest of the world just disappears. There have been times when I've gone quiet, losing my words in the middle of a sentence, and afterwards I can't remember where we were and what we were discussing. All I remember is her eyes.
"Where?" she says, voice low and uneven as if we were already in the middle of lovemaking instead of having lunch.
"The restroom."
I nod towards the stairs leading to the basement with the nondescript music and purple doors in a row.
"How?"
She knows the game, knows which questions I'm waiting for.
"With your warm brown skin against the cold white tiles, pressing your cunt down into my face."
I eat the tomato, chewing slowly. She bites her lip, waiting for me to continue.
"We'll choose a door and lock it behind us. You'll take your pants off, spread your legs and put one foot on the seat. I'll kneel -- your devoted disciple bowing before her goddess of green eyes -- and I'll kiss your thigh softly."
I stab another piece of tomato. Her food is forgotten, her cutlery beside the plate.
"Then I'll run my tongue along your labia, until I reach your clit. Is it swollen?"
"Pounding," she replies.
"I'll suck it, gently, and put my fingers inside you. Two, at first. Then three. And four. And I'll fuck you, slowly, while licking, sucking, and biting your pounding clit..."
I reach for my glass, to sip my water. She doesn't move, doesn't speak.
"Then I'll soak a finger of my other hand in your wetness and I'll slide it
into your ass, and I'll be pounding your cunt harder, and harder, until you come...and
that's when I'll ask you to please not close your eyes. Because I want
you to look at me, submissive, kneeling before you, face and hands buried between
your legs, behind a purple door in the basement of your favorite restaurant."
"When?" Her voice is thin now, her breathing quick.
I look at the clock on the wall. There's just enough time.
"Now.
