B
y Cephalopod Ben (bh_hb@yahoo.com)
This is my first posting. Be critical but gentle.
Feedback is appreciated.
Though the following is not technically adult
fiction, it is suggestive. If this offends you you're
definately in the wrong newsgroup.
You may distribute this freely as long as its intact
and no money is made from its distribution.
Sushi
(short, no sex)
by Cephalopod Ben
It was a few minutes before ten PM. I glance down
from studying how beautiful she looked in the light
of the false-paper- lantern to see that there was
only one piece of sushi left for us.
"It's yours." I tell her.
"I have a better idea." She says, stressing the "I"
in that way that tells you she is in a playful mood.
I stare back at her with my best "go on..." look.
"Do you remember _Lady_and_the_Tramp_?"
I do. I pick up the last piece of nigiri and rise it
to the table between us. She leans forward eyes
closed and lips slightly open as if to kiss. I lean
forward to meet her, getting out of my chair by a
few inches in my enthusiasm.
The sushi was tuna, the dark red of the tuna
contrasting beautifully against the salmon colored
lipstick she's wearing. We lean closer together,
our lips meeting around the nigiri. She bites down
first, then I do, our lips mashing together as we
bite down. The texture of the fish is incredibly
smooth, reminding me of the feel of her skin and how
much I want to touch it. Our lips break off for half
a minute. She covers her mouth as she giggles
playfully at what we're doing here. I'm torn
between immersing myself in the feeling of the tuna
in my mouth and the urge to rush through eating and
rush back into the kiss. It was she who decided the
issue when she leaned back in. I gulp down and
leaned forward again to meet her. I smell the sea-
breeze on her breath. Our mouths met and opened once
again, and our tongues explored each others mouths,
searching every nook and cranny that we knew so
well, searching for any stray pearls of rice which
may be lieing about in the corners of each others
mouths. The search seemed to go on forever, way past
the point where we found the last grain of rice. I
gently touch her neck, moving along then above the
jawline to her left cheek to touch that baby scar
she got from a childhood accident. Her soft breathing
echos in my ear.
That sixth or seventh sense that tells you someone is
watching you tells us its time to break off our
search. We turn to see the waiter standing in the
corner, in that "we closed five minutes ago"
posture. She bursts into a peal of embarrassed
laughter and I go into that fit laugh I have when I
do my best to suppress it as we signal quickly for
the check.
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From: "B. H."
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Subject: New story: Sushi (short, no sex)
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Date: 29 Jan 1998 23:03:28 GMT
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Sushi
