She runs her hand from my clavicle down to my belly then pulls back with a giggle as it speaks to her. It rumbles and groans in its dialect asking for “more food, please”.
I apologize but she knows how hungry I get after sex, especially after hours of sex. She gets up from bed with a kiss, pulls on her robe and goes to the kitchen. I stay where I am, sprawling on the bed, smiling happily at the sound of my lover humming as she prepares a snack for us.
The afterimage of her walking away in that robe stays with me, emblazoned on my mind’s eye, taunting me. I swing myself out of bed and move quickly and quietly through the apartment until I am right behind her. Slipping one arm around her waist, chuckling as she gasps, I lift up the back of her robe and slide my hand between her legs, into her wetness. Her back arches and I say to her, breathing it into her ear,”Honey, I think I need an appetizer before that snack.”
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