Fruit Salad

There.

Right there.

I caught you

Looking at me when you thought I wasn't looking. Across from me at the family BBQ. It only takes so long to scoop a serving of melons from the fruit salad into your bowl. But you lingered.

There.

Again.

You're staring now, it's as if my entire body has lit up. Your eyes a flashlight that has illuminated my being. I feel seen in a way I haven't in years. Now I'm holding up the food line just to triple check that it's me you're looking at.

Just then.

You did it again.

Just a second ago.

You looked at me like I was fulfilling something for you in that moment. Satisfying a need for you by just existing.

What turns you on? I think, are you admiring the way the fabric of my top falls onto my breasts or how my dainty necklaces goes missing into my cleavage?

Are you more hardcore? Are you thinking about bending me over this garden table and using my body among the picnic treats.

Or are you gentle?

You walk towards me.

I think.

You take an unusual route to me, even though I'm less than a meter away, you divert to brush your hands along the bushes.

You're gentle, the type to whisk me a way to a room and have me properly. Going down on me, on a bed where I can moan and plead as loudly as I want.

Where you can drench me in the sweat you worked for, pound me slowly because no one can disturb us.

You get to me, passing closely behind me, your breath on my neck. My sense heighten. You brush against my lower back and bum with your front. I allow it, I don't move to make space for you. I hold my ground as you invade my space.

I wait.

Like playing chess, you make the next move

Your hands start to move, up my freshly shaven thighs and into my barely there thong.

Yes

You found it

There.

Oh my God!

You got it

Right there

Your fingers are moist from the melons you were picking at earlier, the residue now staining my clit. Sticky as you begin to rub. I could levitate from the pleasure you're giving me. Forced to contain it as I smile as family and friends pass by. They don't know that the juices from the infamous BBQ fruit salad is being used to lube me up, preparing me for the real thing.

You.

By Hazel Noir