CONFESSION: HOME MADE SEX

I was in a rush. I was always in a rush back then. I leapt onto the train just before the doors whooshed shut. The whole carriage was full. I stood by the door, placed my briefcase between my pinstriped bedecked legs and grabbed hold of the rail beside me. As I slowly began to regain my breath and my composure I looked up and saw her. She was stood directly across from me, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, her dark wet lips wrapped tightly and erotically around the small bump of the sports cap. One hand grasped tightly around a pole, her thumb idly stroking up and down, sending a shiver down my spine and into the pit of my stomach. To this day I do not know why she effected me so. I liked young, thin model type girls. The kind of girl who looked good hanging on my suited arm and who didn’t own an opinion, an ounce of fat or a personality. The lady across from me was curvy. Her large beasts closely wrapped in a deep dark red top, cut low to reveal an open expanse of white frothy cleavage. I darted my eyes away as her bottle dropped away from her mouth and she began to rummage through the shopping bag between her legs. My eyes kept darting down to her pendulous breasts hanging down in their material enclosure. I could not help but stare. The way she flicked her hair, the way her large soft brown eyes sparkled in the bright harsh sunlight had me entranced. I watched as she opened a small brown bag, leaning her tall and heavy frame against the rail she began to pick out small ripe cherries with one delicate hand, her nails dripping with the same colour as the fruit. I could feel the clammy sweat rolling down my back beneath my expensive and pristine white shirt. I could feel my heart pounding, hear my breath coming in raspy pants and talking of pants, I was painfully aware of what I had inside my trousers. I watched enraptured as she lifted a cherry by its long tenuous stalk to her lips, dangling the shiny purple-red fruit above her lips I watched as she darted her pink tongue out from between her full lips and wrapped it around the fruit, pulling it into her mouth. And I continued to watch (and no doubt stare) as she bit down, her white teeth showing through, a drip of blood red juice dripping down her chin. A seat came free after we pulled up at one station. Nervously I leaned over and touched her upper arm. She looked up at me, fixing me with her soft chocolate sensual eyes “There’s a seat free now.” I tell her, feeling my pale skin redden under her gaze. “Thank you.” She grinned, a wide smile that seemed to pull me in and I watched her as she sashayed and swayed towards the free seat. She continued to eat, the cherries being dangled over her lips then slowly being sucked into her mouth, masticated and then the cherry stem was rejected. I watched intensely as each berry disappeared between her lips, making a low but audible groan when one burst and sent cherry juice sliding down over her pouty bottom lip and over her chin. “Excuse me!” She said, capturing my eyes with her gaze “The seat next to me is empty now. Would you like a seat?” I was very aware I only had a couple of stops to go but I picked up my briefcase and brushed past her knees to sit on the chair next to her, beside the window. “Thanks.” I smiled at her. “My pleasure.” She replied, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Would you like a cherry?” “Erm.. No..no Thanks.” I replied, stuttering in my nervousness. “Oh it’s just I saw you watching me eat them and thought you wanted one.” Well knock me down with a feather. Had I been staring that much? “Well honestly” I decided to come clean, so I leant in close to her ear and whispered “I was watching you eat. It’s the most erotic sight I have seen on public transport.” I was delighted to see her plump cheeks flushing pink . “I do everything sensually.” She purred “And I love my food! Why should I not savour every mouth full?” “Exactly.” I nodded my head in agreement; suddenly aware of the sad plastic encased sandwich huddled in the corner of my briefcase, my poor excuse for a lunch. “This is my stop.” She says. “It has been a pleasure meeting you.” I had to do something, I needed to see yet more of this startlingly sensual woman. “Have dinner with me tonight!” I blurt out. “Ok” She grinned. “Do you know Alexandero’s?” “Yes I do.” I reply, recognising the name of an intimate little Italian restaurant I had so often used in my seduction technique “Meet me in there at 7pm. Goodbye now!” As she walked to the door she turned and blew me a kiss. I felt as if I could feel those sensual pouty lips pressed up against my cheek. That evening I took extra care and attention as I groomed myself ready for the date. I wanted to look edible. I wanted to make her salivate over me and give her the urge to nibble upon my flesh. I chose a creamy shirt and matched it with light biscuit coloured pants. Milk chocolate coloured suede shoes and a deep dark chocolate brown jacket and I hope I look good enough to eat! 7pm sharp I arrived at Alexandro’s. I took a deep breath and walked in through the door. I was immediately recognised and lead to an intimate corner of the room. I look around the room but there is no sign of the lady. I remember quite clearly how I nearly got up and left right then. I didn’t know the woman’s name, didn’t know anything about her except that she was sexy and sensual and loved her food. Why would such a sophisticated example of womanhood want to spend time with me? I’m just a straggly 6ft bean pole with a penis. Just as I was pushing back my chair to leave I saw her. She walked in the room and I swear everyone stopped to stare. Her Hazel hair was loose, falling in lazy curls around her shoulders, bouncing as she walked, echoing the slight bounce of her breasts, encased in the deepest darkest cherry red I had ever seen. The dress was amazing, it pulled in to her waist and flared out over her hips and large swinging buttocks. The dress whispered over her curves and sashayed sexily just below her knees allowing me to see the curve of her calves down to her delicate ankles and feet encased in very expensive looking red high heels. Looking back up to her face as she walked towards me I noticed she had on no make up, at least I could not detect any. Her cheeks sparkled with health and good humour, her eyes wide and so dark that they looked almost as black as coffee without milk. Her lips curved into a friendly smile, the soft peachy pink of her lips compulsed me to lean over and gently place a kiss upon them. I was blown away by the tingles that dissipated from my lips and through my body. “Hello! You look gorgeous!” I said, more than a little flustered by the spell she seemingly had over me. “And you look good enough to eat!” She purred and I moved round and helped her into her seat. “Have you been waiting long?” she asked, pinning me with that sexy smile and stare. “I just arrived a few minutes before you.” I replied. An awkward silence ensued broken by the waiter as he brought us our menus. I was panicking quietly to myself, I thought she had regretted coming at all, that I had scared her with my impulsive kiss and that I should make an excuse and leave right that moment before it got worse. “What are you having?” She asked, her voice cut through my panic. “Oh the Carbonara.” I replied, not even looking at the menu. “It’s my favourite.” “Really?” She gasped. “Mine too. I love the feel of the creamy sauce as it slowly slips down my throat.” Suddenly I became awfully aware of my trousers again. “Yes, it is a heavenly taste experience.” I replied, secretly cursing myself for not being able to think of anything more poetic. We discussed our favourite foods as we waited for our meal. It turned out that we had similar tastes loving things creamy and rich, sweet and satisfying. “I love anything that is wickedly sinful;” She said, her voice low and husky “I’m still talking about food of course!” She chuckled. ” Life is for living and I spend many hours eating and drinking every single day. I feel that those times should be enjoyable and pleasurable. Why should receiving nourishment be a chore?” “Indeed!” I replied, agreeing heartily ” However some days I feel I do not have the time to appreciate my food. Office life is not conductive to eating and not getting indigestion!” “You should go out for lunch.” She says. ” Get away from the stress of office life. Oooooh here comes our food!” Her eyes lit up as the plate was placed upon the table before her. Lovingly she picked up her fork, caressing it gently between her fingers. I watched as she plunged her fork into the thick strands of pasta, slowly winding the fork round until the pasta came to an end then my eyes followed the creamy morsel up to her lips. I was so engrossed in watching her that I had not even lifted my fork. “Are you going to eat that?” She joked, the soon to be familiar wry lopsided smile playing across her face “Oh yes. Sorry I just love the way you eat!” I enthused as I plunged my own fork into the steaming creamy concoction before me. I wrap the pasta round my fork, making sure it is full of cream and bacon and then gently I lift it to my lips. As I placed the fork inside my mouth I glanced across the table and was startled to see two deep creamy brown eyes staring across at me, looking down I could see she was nibbling upon her lip and her whole face was a mask of delightful concentration. Diligently chomping my pasta I keep my eyes locked with hers. It is still to this day one of the most sexual moments of my whole life. So much was shared in our gaze over that small mouthful of food. As we continued to eat we fell silent, just watching each other as our teeth nibbled, our lips sucked and our tongues licked. It was like we were making love right there in the middle of the restaurant. We mirrored each others actions, our gazes never broken. When our meals were finished (almost in unison) we put down our forks (almost reluctantly) and smiled warmly at one another. “I hope you won’t find this too forward” She said, a light flush highlighting her cheekbones ” but I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my flat to share some dessert with me.” “I would love too!” I answered without pause, even if dessert just meant dessert I would be happy. If it really was a thinly veiled come on then an alien invasion breaking out of the Italian’s Kitchen wouldn’t stop me going home with her! I called over the waiter and quickly paid the bill, She sweetly tried to protest but gratefully and graciously accepted this as my way of doing something for her. The taxi journey was short and we sat together, our thighs rubbing lightly side by side. We talked about the weather, our work and what football teams we supported. Anything to keep the conversation rolling on, to stop the silence descending and to mask the urgent need which was building between us. Her flat was lovely, homely and sexy. I could smell her sweet fruity perfume in the air and could see into her (scarlet) Bedroom from where I was sat on the couch in the living room. She had taken my coat from me at the door, feeling her hands sliding the material off my arms was electric, just having her that close made my heart palpitate. When I was settled in my seat she disappeared off to prepare “dessert” I wondered what it might be. When she walked through and placed a large wooden tray upon the table my eyes lit up. There was an array of soft fruit, raspberries, peaches, strawberries and cherries were some I noticed at first glance, a bowl of whipped cream, was next to a bowl of sprinkles and another bowl of chocolate drops. There were no spoons or bowls in sight. “I thought we could make our own dessert.” she giggled ,flicking her hair nervously and then reached in to pick up a cherry. Gently she pinched the stem between her pursed fingers and dangled the fruit in front of my lips. I tipped my head back and she ran the sweet ripe cherry across my lips, light and feathery , tickling over the pink flesh prompting me to nip my teeth together in attempt to catch it. Eventually I succeeded and bit into the little sweet morsel, royal purple juice squirting out and dribbling down my chin, before it could drip onto my pristine shirt she darted out her tongue and licked the juice away. “We better take of that shirt before it gets dirty.” She said it quite matter of factly, and before I could answer she had her fingers on my chest, undoing my buttons. “actually, those trousers better come off too ,we don’t want to risk them getting dirty either.” I was left sat in total disbelief as she knelt down on the floor before me, her dress stretched to it’s limits. Her large juicy fruits poised to spill out. I wanted to sink my teeth into one of them, suck, nip and lick at it till I made her scream. Next my socks went and she straightened up to pull on my belt and skilfully undo my fly. I wondered how she would react to my obvious arousal; the feel of her fingers so close to me and her, there upon her knees before me had, shall we say, roused my interest. She seemed pleased as she smiled indulgently at the bump revealed in my boxers and leaning in closer than needs be when she scooped the trousers down my legs, causing her breasts to brush up against my crotch. I couldn’t help but groan in delight. “Right, back to the dessert.” she exclaimed as she stood. “Oh but what about my dress? I better remove it to be on the safe side.” Smiling at me she reached behind her and I heard the zound of a zip zliding and catching at its runs end. Gently she peeled the fabric down her shoulders and as it past over her breasts she simply let the dress drop and pool on the floor at her feet. She was wearing beautiful red underwear. Lacy and revealing the dark crimson of the material only let me see hints of the flesh inside teasing me from within the gauzy trappings. I am sure I groaned again and as she sat down she smiled at me in such a way that it put me in the mind of a just fed and well contented cat. She reached down and plucked up a strawberry this time, forcefully she pressed it between my teeth, her whole body pushed against me, her bra clad breast thrust into the now painfully hot and aroused flesh of my chest. Forcefully she persuaded the strawberry past my lips, between my teeth and over my tongue. I felt the soft fruit turning to mush and sliding down her fingers and my face and down onto our bodies. When my mouth was empty I said “we don’t want your beautiful bra getting stained” and wrapped my arms around her, floundering around the middle of her back I found the bra clasp and it popped open, allowing me to scoop the straps up in my hands and pull them down and away. I looked eagerly at those breasts, revealed to me in all their milky white glory, the erect nipples red and puckered begging to be sucked. I feed her strawberries for a while then, adoring the feel of her lips licking at my fingers as she eagerly devoured the sweet fruit. When I saw a trail of sweet sticky juice dripping down in a line towards one of those fruit – like breasts I skimmed my tongue down over her exposed throat following the line of strawberry scented heaven until I reached my goal and began to suck on it as if I were sucking a ripe juicy fruit into my mouth. I smiled with pleasure as she began to writhe. She was lying back on the couch, her head lolling over the arm. One hand in my hair, playing with the short strands, entwined between her deft fingers the other stretched out to the table. Suddenly I am being pulled back , the grip in my hair more shocking than painful as she holds me back with one hand as squashes a full ripe peach onto her chest with the other. As the sticky sweet mess flowed down her chest she let my head go once more and I eagerly licked and nibbled and sucked as the heady fresh scent of ripened peaches assaulted my whole being. To this day I cannot eat a peach without being taken back to that moment. That moment was the beginning of something fresh and exciting, a relationship so satisfying I thought I would burst with happiness. It wasn’t until the next morning when I awoke in her arms that I asked her name. Cherry. My Cherry. It made me laugh out loud when she said it because it was just so right. Cherry and I were married within the year and till this day she is the only woman I have ever loved. Her vivacious love of life, her daily decadence and her fruitful zesty personality have kept me falling in love with her over and over again. Even as she lies there before me, all bone and sickly-pale flesh I love her. I can see her as she really is, curvy and sexy and sensual. A lover of life and a lover for life. Even as the cancer eats her from the inside she smiles. She had known for many years that it would eventually get her. Zap the life out of her. So she lived it, every moment of her life was precious. I felt so awed to be the man she chose to spend her last years with. Now ,at the tender age of 32 she lies before me, a machine to breathe for her, a drip to feed her and a nurse to change and bathe her. She does not have long to go. I can see it in her eyes. The fight has gone. She cannot enjoy her life here on earth anymore so she is leaving it to move on to decadence and vitality in Heaven. A bowl of fruit sits upon her bedside table. Filled with peaches, strawberries and Cherries. Each time I smell them I remember. I remember. I will always remember her as my Cherry, My fruit. My nourishment.

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