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By galadrial Date: 2003 Jan 17 Comment on this Work [[2003.01.17.08.19.13759]] |
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Getting there before you was the trick--- but God watches over small children, and crazy women in love and the county patrol missed me. I had a few hours to start the sauce filling the place with tomato garlic basil and oregano before your tires crunched on the gravel. And like always my heart tried to break lose of my ribs hammering like John Henry until i got my arms around you one squeal and a flying hug like it had been months or years since last I touched you. You look over the kitchen chaos, and touch a spot on my chin. Sauce, you say. And haul me in to delicately clear the skin with the tender touch of your tongue. Words have a way of melting away when you decide to taste me with that gourmet touch. But no. I am feeding you. I break lose, and ask you to pick some music while I set the table--- white linen, crystal, pewter napkin holders and one tiny rose bud set close to your place. You pour me wine, kiss my neck lightly then sit to watch me looking bemused. I put out the bread sticks and sweet butter and lazily you reach for one never taking your eyes from me. The game is begun. You nibble carefully, and I cannot look away. I dip one finger in the butter, stop you, and glide it across the breadstick scarcely breathing. You reach for the antipasta, select an olive and offer it to my lips. Oh--you devil--- you forced the end on your finger so I must tug lightly to free it--- and since your finger is already at my lips it is logical to kiss it softly, nibble the pad, and flick my tongue along the side and dare you to look away. Instead, you stand up sweep me in your arms and deposit me on the counter. A moment later I am drugged by a kiss, shirt half open and by no means a lady and you reach for the wine, pour it down my chin gently, and begin to sip at me. Fine vintage, you say. Nice Mouth, i reply. Dinners going to be late. And I didn't even ask what you were offering me for dessert on the Ridge. Happy Valentines Day, my beloved. |