Stripped Down by Tristan Taormino Page A

just the cold medicine?”
    Her smile faded and she got an intense expression: pure sensuality, exuding lust and sex and confidence. It was a heady combination and I gripped the edge of the table for dear life.
    She took a step closer to me and leaned forward just a bit.
“What do you think?” she whispered.
    â€œI think if you don’t kiss me soon, I might just have a relapse.” I was tired of playing games. I wasn’t getting any younger.
    She put her hands on my shoulders, drawing me closer until our bodies were touching, chest to chest, hip to hip. Then she was kissing me.
    It wasn’t a first kiss. Hell, it wasn’t a second, third, or fourth kiss, either. It was the kind of kiss you give someone you’ve been fucking for a while, but not so long you’re used to each other. When the heat and throb are still insistent and you’re both always needy. That kind of kiss.
    She was groping my ass before the first kiss even ended. In my premeditation, I had made sure to wear a skirt. I was also wearing panties, but I didn’t really think about that fact until they were somewhere down around my knees. I wasn’t quite sure how she’d made that move, but I didn’t complain because she was stroking my cunt and nibbling my bottom lip as if someone had given her a road map of my body with the erogenous zones marked as points of interest.
    When I was thoroughly kissed and dripping wet from her fingers working between my thighs, she pulled away. “Is that what you had in mind?”
    I blinked at her, waiting until I regained some feeling in my lips to speak. “Something like that, yeah.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you say so?”
    I ran my tongue over my lips. “I’m kind of old-fashioned.”
    She looked skeptical. “Does that mean I have to take you out to dinner before I can fuck you?”
    I grabbed a fistful of her T-shirt and dragged her closer.
“You’ve already brought me dinner. We can move on.”
    â€œGood.”
    She wrapped her hands around my waist and backed me up against the kitchen table. Thankfully it’s one of those heavy, butcher-block style tables that can withstand a hell of a lot of weight and motion, which was what I hoped she had in mind.
    With one hand on my hip, she gently pushed me back on the table until I was lying flat with my legs hanging off. I could feel my panties sliding the rest of the way down to my ankles and I kicked them off. I lay there waiting for her to slide her fingers into me, but it didn’t happen.
    I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at her. She was going through the grocery bag on the table.
    â€œUm, hello?” I wiggled my fingers at her. “Remember me?”
    â€œI haven’t forgotten. Hold on.” She pulled out a pint of raspberries and a pint of blackberries.
    â€œHungry?” I snapped.
    Her grin was feral. “Oh, yes.”
    That was enough to make me lie back down. Whatever she was up to, I was pretty sure I was going to enjoy it.
    Marissa walked over and stood between my spread legs. She looked into my eyes, rather than between my legs, which automatically earned her a couple bonus points and made me whimper with impatience.
    â€œI love blackberries,” she said, softly. It was the single most erotic thing I’ve ever heard a woman say.
    â€œMe too.”
    I closed my eyes as I felt her kneel between my legs. I waited for the feel of her tongue, but it never came. Instead, I felt
something cool against my cunt. It took a moment for it to register in my lust-filled brain that she was pushing the blackberries into me.
    â€œHey, wait,” I said, struggling to prop myself up on my elbows. “I don’t think that’s a—”
    â€œSshh,” she murmured, sliding the berries in deeper. “Don’t think, just relax.”
    It seemed silly to argue while her fingers were in my cunt, so I lay back and tried to relax. The