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Entry #1: Sunday Night Sundae by Nicole Leigh
She worked on her feet all day. No weekends off, including Sundays. She came home at 8 that night, and collapsed on the couch at 8:02. He was waiting for her to get home, and emerged from the kitchen.
"I was wondering if you would ever make it home. Long day?" He held both hands behind his back and continued to stand in the walkway.
"Longest day since my last longest day. So, since yesterday." She lazily rubbed at her own shoulders and felt the tension mounting in her muscles. A headache had to be in the works.
He walked into the living room and revealed what he had been hiding behind her back. A perfectly made hot fudge and caramel sundae. Two supple scoops of vanilla ice cream beneath perfectly drizzled fudge and hot salted caramel. Clusters of nuts sat atop the picture perfect dairy treat, completed by decorative sprinkles.
She took the bowl from him, immediately reaching for the spoon. She began taking slow bites of the sundae. Savoring the flavor of salty and sweet, and enjoying the cream melting in her mouth.
As she tastefully devoured the dessert one bite at a time, he knelt on the floor and removed her socks. He began massaging her feet. Kneading the balls of her feet. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as she fell into a trance.
Gently pinching and pushing on her feet and hearing her groans of enjoyment were worth it to him to be without her all day.
He continued to rub her aching muscles and electrify her sense, and she licked the bowl clean. Down to the last drop of white cream left at the bottom. And she felt euphoria swallow her up.
Entry #2: Creamy Pleasures by FoodieFanatic
It was the best place to go and everyone knew it. Sitting atop a hill overlooking a beautiful grassy valley enclosed by rolling blue-green knobs lay the Dairy Dip.
She knew the long drive on the winding county roads would be worth it as she stepped out of her car and into the late summer heat. She looked up at the giant sign proudly proclaiming 24 flavors of soft serve and she quietly swooned. Ordering her usual- freshly whipped peanut butter soft serve ice cream, she squirmed in anticipation.
Out it came, fluffy, towering goodness on a homemade cone that could barely contain the thickness within. She grasped the cone lightly and as she closed her eyes, her tongue lightly flicked the top swirl. She moaned with delight as that wonderful cool sensation spread throughout her body.
Unable to contain herself she bit off a section of the cone and licked from base to tip, soaking up all the flavor and shuddering with such delight that she did not notice the ice cream had begun to dribble down her low cut shirt and across her breasts.
Entry #3: Presentation Is Everything by Caryn Hex
She always arrived early to the dinner party so that she could watch him cook. She sat on a dining chair, chin in hands, while he worked the pastry dough. His muscles slid under his shirt as he leaned into each motion. His fingers spread and kneaded, firm and repetitive, again, again, and her breath caught in her throat.
He looked up from the dough, eyes bright, and she could only nod. He finished the pastry and turned to the steak, rubbing it with spices in smooth, rolling motions. The smell was sensational, but that’s not why her mouth watered.
He slid the steak into the oven and the blast of hot air played across her skin. She realised she was biting her lip; she stopped, and recrossed her legs.
He turned to the sauce, running a finger in a delicate circle across the surface. He tasted it with a flicker of tongue; she barely contained a gasp. His eyes met hers, looking a question. She nodded, then nodded again, as he lifted the wooden spoon to her lips, letting her taste the sauce. She kept her eyes on his the whole time.
Later, they arrived. She barely looked at them as he laid each plate before them. Did she imagine that he lingered behind her as he set the plate before her? His warmth radiated at her back; his scent mixing with the delicately laid plate.
“It looks delicious.” Her mouth was dry, her breath tight in her chest.
He smiled to one side. “Presentation is everything,” he replied.
Across the table, one dinner guest leaned to the other. “Is it just me,” whispered the guest, “or are these dinners getting awkward?”
Entry #4: Mussel Memory by Kate Hodges
“Making a romantic dinner for two? What should I serve with it? Tips?”
Epicurifoodnetwhiteorred.org message board
21 replies. Contrary food wars come to a Boil.
“I brought a bottle of red and a bottle of white….”
We rustle up a cork screw from the junk drawer-so glad I cleaned it
right before you came.
Raise the cork and throw away
mussels that refuse to open.
Stubborn shut. Can you help?
“Can’t wait to try them.”
We swap plates and laughter
as they slip out of your hands.
“Is it sauce or gravy” You ask
and gently pry the shells apart.
“Tell me the best part of your day….”
But you say nothing and stare off.
“It’s good luck to find a few closed
off.” You have to work a little harder
to get the pearl inside.”
“No, that’s oysters.”
“No, that’s you.”
“Anyway, when you finally separate the shells
you’re supposed to make a wish
and have a taste.”
He holds one up for me to try.
“Close your eyes. Make a wish.
And put the mussel where your mouth is.”
Entry #5: Chips 'n dip by Mertrash
At first, it’d been nothing more than the occasional glance, but after more than a few months of having been together, ‘glances’ had turned to stares. Twice a week they’d visit the store, he and his wife, and each time they’d return with a bag of plain salted chips with queso. Nothing too unusual but it was when she ate them, that’s when he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
She’d take a single chip at a time, carefully holding the delicate snack between two fingers and gracefully bringing it to her lips. She’d hesitate, often glancing his way where they’d meet eyes for only a second before her eyes would lower back onto the chip. It was then her tongue darted out, resting at the edge before slowly gliding across the crisp edge of the chip. After having tested the waters she could delicately tilt the chip in her favor, tongue tracing along the grooves, picking up on the saltine taste, taking a moment between long strides of the tongue to savor it.
After having played with the ridges for what seemed like an eternity, she now tore the chip away from her mouth, eyes darting down towards the queso. It was a brief motion, dipping it and as she drew it back her head gently lurched forward to catch the string of cheese. A bit dribbled onto her skin in the process but she hardly paid any mind to it, only raising a finger to sweep across the warm liquid, collecting it before bringing it to her lips, taking in an entire finger to suck it off.
Her husband couldn’t tear his gaze away, eyes bulging as she took in her whole finger down to the base, hardly. He couldn't breathe, legs moving to cross, tightly pulling at one another.
His wife returned back to her chip that was newly coated with cheese, bringing it to her mouth and without any hesitation letting her tongue reach out to test the warm substance. Her tongue at first only flicked at it, soon pressing against the chip, rolling between the chip’s grooves and the warm queso. It was then a soft moan purred from the back of her throat, combined flavors exploding in her mouth as she finally letting her tongue glide against the whole surface of the chip, stripping it of its queso. In the process her eyes flickered back to her husband, lips curling into a thin smile before in one gradual, daring move, she took the entire chip in. Slowly easing it into her mouth, tongue passing against its sides before ultimately she closed her mouth, ending it all.
But that was only the beginning; she still had an entire bag to go and with that she drew another chip from the bag, all while her husband’s tongue glided against his lips.
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