From the moment we laid eyes on each other, our separate worlds collapsed into one, sending shock waves of desire and anticipation into its stratosphere. Would we survive dinner? Could we wait that long? We both knew the inevitable was...inevitable.
But first dinner. All too excruciatingly slow in its arrival, it was, nevertheless suggestive of things to come.
Roasted caramelized aubergines appeared on a bed of silky leafed organic lettuce. They were accompanied by a pair of lightly baked tomatoes, plump and firm to the touch, the fragrance of Italian basil swirling around them.
Next, a plate of bright red prawns arrived with a lemon and dill dressing. Strip, dip and devour. Could anything be more straightforward? Or more revealing ? Or more fatal?
And so it continued, this meal that would take its time in satisfying some, but by no means all, of our cravings, teasing and taunting us all the way through.
When at last it was over, we found ourselves locked in a gaze that would later remind me of Cleopatra and Mark Anthony's fateful love affair. Right then though, the moment which our every thought, utterance and action had feverishly anticipated was but a final sip of wine away.
Distance dissolved and in its place was silk and satin, hair against skin, soft touch following soft touch, trembling and turning. I didn't want it to stop. Nor did he.
More intoxicating than wine, our evening affair left me drunk with the heady possibility that it wouldn't be our last. When it was time to go, I left with his smell all over me.
PS I know what you're thinking: I should've said 'lust' not 'love'. Well, go on then, tell me the difference, why don't ya!
Post Script: There'll be no shortage of gifts I can get him from Amazon :)
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