Her First Taste of Divine Decadence
“How do you like the breasts? Are they tender enough for you?” asked Angelina. “I know how particular you are savoring every last bite as though it was your last supper.”
The evening was their third date, which fell on a full moon-how enchanting on such a Summer’s Eve. The crisp, sultry atmosphere; humid and sticky at its core beckoned a cold shower in the granite tiled master bathroom-complete with a garden tub, rose petals lining the outer edges, and covering the surface of the bubbly lavender salt filled soothing waters.
The Eighth Wonder
Angelina got this insane passionate vibe that Claire wanted to raise it to an all new level of intensity. Maybe it was the full moon calling out to her inner goddess-come play in the light, dance between the shadows of the night, and come explore the Eighth Wonder of the New World. It was though Claire was this secret age-defying enchanted spring to cleanse and heal her deepest darkest pain away. Angelina wanted to drown in her gushing waters tonight and to die happy in her purity and graceful embrace.
Love is much like a delectable dessert-a creme brûlée covered peach. Like Eve in the Garden enticed by nature’s candy-the tempting lure of the forbidden fruit; so divine like fine wine. Intoxicating to the flesh and an aroma which will overtake our entire soul.
That sweet sinfully delicious taste sending your palate to suborbital bliss. Zero gravity, when I feel you coming, and I don’t give a damn about nothing, but you inside of me. Okay, so I changed the lyrics and got Borgeous drowning out the careless whisper, Claire’s climatic chorus I can’t resist.
Come Share In This Succulent Spread
“An evening relaxing in front of the fireplace would be the perfect opportunity to showcase my new skills,” Angelina exclaimed to her untamed inner wild child. She bought a book titled, “How to Do It Right the First Time.” She never did anything like this in the kitchen before; the smooth granite counter, the elongated spacious island, and the dark walnut dining room table to seat eight guests when expanded with the center section.
The bay windows afforded a spectacular view of the eternity pool overlooking the San Fernando Valley. Angelina fantasized about this moment many times, of preparing her perfect breasts for her new lover and partner in the dream kitchen.
Claire was taken back by the question; lost in her own thoughts-slowly sipping a glass of Barefoot Chardonnay in front of the fireplace, freshly bathed in a lavender bath. She had covered herself with a purple silk robe which she had draped over the plush red velvet sofa; her still glistening skin now illuminated by the fireplace.
Her ballerina body spread out across an ornate Persian area rug on top of a chocolate oak floor. She loved the spaciousness the mansion provided; spacious living at its best and a mirrored dance floor-the perfect place to find release in the daily ritual of Zumba.
The City of Lost Dreams
Chatsworth was considered a safe community, close enough to the studios which provided Claire her first mainstream acting gig. She had paid her dues; sucking enough dick from studio execs to get her call backs-leading to her VIP perks like this multi-million dollar estate mansion.
The gated community had a guard checkpoint which all visitors had to stop at to show their credentials; a safe haven away from the downtown scene; free from the worries of pervs, stalkers, or ex-lovers showing up uninvited and shooting a load in front of the bedroom window.
She had auditioned for the lead role of a new Romance movie with some stiff competition. She landed some cheesy non-speaking roles and soft-core adult fare which paid for her high rent and pot addiction.
She loved the work of art her body represented and was not ashamed to show off the whole package-if the price was right. She had been a favorite among the nude models at the Visual Arts Institute in Raleigh. It was an easy part time job and got her many paid dinners at the best restaurants in the Triangle. Most of the men were in their 30s and 40s, seeking a young companion for the night-an 18 year old escort on the road to fame in between the sheets.
Play for Pay – Steamy Hot Latte Love
“Damn girl, you know how to twerk it. With an ass like that, you will always be rolling in the Benjamins,” Antoinette would playfully say to her. They had both met as rising juniors at Raleigh High School and made a pact to attend college together. Now at NC State they both worked as baristas part time at the Starbucks on Peace Street.
On more than one occasion Claire caught Antoinette visually undressing her from head to toe. An intense glazed look would transform her eyes from the angel she outwardly appeared to be into a Reptilian sex fiend. Her scent would entice anyone into her snare and handcuffed in her secret lair.
Speaking the Language of Lust – Honors Seminar
Claire passionately called her Toni for short. She was a petite French exchange student at the time from Paris-Claire’s first lesbian exchange. Toni would look radiant in a French maid outfit, serving breakfast to her in bed. Toni had a boyfriend she met in their college Human Sexuality course and had ‘done it’ several times in the empty class auditorium. The enrollment for a single course offering was the largest this semester, garnering the most seating capacity in the university. Most were just horny freshmen students who were tired of jacking off and needed to get laid for the first time.
Claire would fantasize of taking the lead with Toni in her Bed of Dreams debut on the Broadway stage in front of their adoring fans. Her exhibitionist inner-slut just needed any opportunity to release the geyser within. For now she would playfully brush her friend’s hip with her hand and innocently brush her body up against Toni’s as they prepared lattes for the college students craving their daily fix. Next to some Bob Marley and blow, Starbucks was the drug of choice for an all-nighter. Toni was fond of working her late shift with no bra or panties under her uniform; her nipples clearly visible through her polo shirt and a Monarch butterfly tat on her lower back. Perhaps this is why the nerdy, geeky types were always plugged in with their iPad Pros; holding their honor meetings during her shift.
“Wanna fuck me for a twenty spot in the cooler baby?” exclaimed Toni one evening just out of earshot of a balding middle-age man in a red polo shirt and brown khakis. Pointing to that customer next in line, “I’m sure he would pay a huge ass tip just to watch us go at it like the sorority sluts we are.” Claire blushed at the mere suggestion. “Don’t flatter yourself hon, besides your boyfriend would get insanely jealous if he found out.”
Secretly she relished the risk factor involved and the fact someone walking in on them in the heat of the moment got her all wet again. She loved her sweet scent and her sexy accent which sounded like singing while talking. “If an employee can have a smoking break; why can’t there be a safe sex break. Sure beats a Snickers if you’re grumpy” she lightheartedly said to Toni.
If only she had the perky 36 Cs and heart-shaped ass of Toni; she had an orgasm on numerous occasions while at work just thinking of a quickie with her home girl. They did have an endless supply of caramel and chocolate syrup with whip cream to top the good stuff off-as they both thought of creating their own Venti Climax Frappuccinos. The 11th most popular secret menu item craving for your number one fuck bunny.
Casting Couch Call Me Maybe
The young, aspiring actresses ranged in age from mid/late teens and early 20s. The fresh, ripe fruit came from as far as North Carolina and Georgia to the open audition in Burbank, California. It helped that the director was into fine, young talent with the body and persona of Adam Levine. Claire found it that much easier to give him head; clean-shaven and well-groomed to boot. He smelled of Cool Water, Claire’s favorite at the time and his taste-succulent and sweet; that much easier to finish him off and down it like the glass of fine wine in her freshly manicured hand.
“Are you ready to have a taste?” exclaimed Angelina over the sounds of Maroon 5 over the Bose theatre sound system and her singing in unison to Adam in his Sugar performance. “You know I am a culinary virgin so don’t laugh, okay baby. I used the recipe from the book and bought the free-range chicken breasts from that Whole Foods Market across from the IMAX theatre.
“These breasts are as organic and fresh as yours; and just as succulent-they melt in your mouth,” smiled Angelina gleefully. She was so stimulated from all the culinary artistry she created for the first time; stripping down to her latest purchase from Victoria’s Secret. Her lacey number was most fitting for this special moment.
Nothing would prevent Angelina from ravishing her date across the fully prepped dining room table on top the coconut cream pie for dessert. A nice spread was in order for this culinary defloration anyways she mused to herself as Claire bit into the juicy organic breast with her perfectly aligned white teeth. Claire fell into a trance, under the enchanted spell of Angelina’s special secret ingredients. This was to be their initiation into the Garden of the Summer Eve-what is sure to be a nightly ritual under the lavender moon; as two heavenly bodies merge into one in a culinary climax.
©2016 JJ Adams and DIVE Publishing. All Rights Reserved.
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