For The Love Of Sushi

Sitting on your kitchen counter, I am enjoying the spicy tuna hand roll we picked up from that little place you like. The one you discovered while working in the area and now, go out of your way, to stop at. You claim it's because the sushi is great, I suspect it's because Mrs. Ito always throws in an extra dumpling, or two, with your order.

My attention is quickly pulled away from the fish, springing off the counter, I announce, "Ahhh, I love this song," and slide onto the living room dance floor as I begin to shimmy and sway.

"You know this song," you ask surprised, mid-bite.

"Nope," I toss my response over my shoulder at you, with a wiggle of my hips. You can't help but smile and shake your head in mild exasperation. You join me and we briefly channel our inner dork personas and jam out. Feeling free and fun and silly, letting all tension and preconceived notions of "date behavior" go. You smack my ass and cross to sit on the couch, preferring to watch in the moment. Un-phased, I continue my solo dance routine, "So, what is this? I'm loving it!"

"J-Pop"

"K-Pop?"

"Different country, different sound."

"Huh. Cool, I like being exposed to new things," I tease...well-aware of the cheesy innuendo I just tossed at you.

The music shifts. It's soulful now, sexy, and slow. I have no idea what they are singing about. I don't speak Japanese, but I don't need to. My dancing matches the vibe and I look over at you...looking at me, like a meal to be savored and slowly consumed. My jeans restrict my movement, so in a Kundalini-inspired, half sun salutation, I slide them down and off. My oversized sweatshirt grazing the bottom of my ass cheeks and my black high-waisted bikinis peaking out, definitely serving Jennifer Beales in Flashdance vibes.

My eyes check-in with you. Your half-smile indicates approval. You are ever the observer aren't you? As if seeing me through one of your lenses, a subject to be framed and well-lit, my story told through your eyes. I like it. I continue my tease and your appreciation can be seen from here.

You rise and cross to me, apparently pant-less...how'd I miss that? You toss off your shirt and join me in my slow dance. Sliding your hands down to my hips and around to my ass. Squeezing gently as we move in unison. You turn me around, pressing against my back, one hand sliding down between my thighs. The other finding my breasts under my sweatshirt. We sway to the music, as I lay back and lean into you.

You slide my top off and slip my bra straps down. Kissing my skin with a sweet intensity. You remove my bra, catching the weight of my tits in your hands. Sliding your fingertips over my responsive nipples. I half moan, half purr, my feelings of delight. You nibble my earlobe and kiss my neck. I indulge in feeling your chest against my bare back. Your hard cock straining between our layers of cotton against my ass.

Mmmmm, you moan softly into my curls, inhaling the coconut of my shampoo. Sliding your hands down my arms, your take my hands in yours and return me to the couch, where your "meal consumption" can properly resume.

The music has shifted again and is now playing your "Make Out Music" playlist. Something soulful with a bluesy downbeat starts to play. As if on cue you are on me, over me, around me. Your tongue, those kissable lips, and fingers savoring every inch of me. I am your buffet...all you can eat.

You pull me up, so we are facing each other...very Jake and Samantha, all we need is the cake with 16 candles between us. We kiss, sweetly, softly...briefly.

"I really want your pussy in my mouth and your ass in my face," you say matter-of-factly. Now I smile a devilish half-grin, "I can think of 69 reasons why I'm good with that request."

You slide off my black panties as I tug your grey boxer briefs down, giving you some some restrictive relief. We move our bodies into position. I hover above and you can smell my desire before it reaches your tongue. You squeeze my ass, spreading me wide as you descend into my depths. Sucking and slurping, drinking me in - quenching your thirst. I moan, loudly, "fuck, that feels good." I slide my hot mouth up and down your cock. You time your clit sucking to my shaft-sliding rhythm, benefiting from my moans, when you are deepest in my mouth. The head of your cock, tickled by the vocal constrictions of my throat. Continuing your tongue fucking, I am distracted from my attention to your cock, as you make me cum, hard, on your face.

I collapse on you, "holy shit, that was awesome. Sorry, I couldn't finish you off."

"That's okay, I have other ideas. Come here."

I turn around and am now lying on top of you, facing you. "Whoops," seeing the mess I made, "let me help with that." I lick my juices from around your mouth. While kissing you, deep and hard, you take advantage of the distracted access you now have to my dripping hole. Rubbing the head of your cock from my ass to my clit and back again. I break our kiss and dip my nipple into your mouth like a a bunch of grapes offered to Cesar. You suck me in, biting and teasing. I arch my back in modified upward dog as you thrust your dick inside me and fuck me. Proper. Grinding and riding your cock, as you thrust up into me, "I'm gonna cum again." "Come with me," you urge. My vagina tightens and pulses with my second orgasm around you, just as you cum deep inside me. Folding into one another as our mutual orgasm ripples throughout bodies and we ride the wave of pleasure. Breath ragged. Bodies hot to the touch, our skin damp with sweat and fluids. Both of us, spent.

I lie on your chest, half asleep in a euphoric state. Your fingers travel up and down my spine, causing me to shiver a little. You pull a blanket off the back of the couch to cover us. Wrapping your arms around me and kissing my forehead. "We should get sushi more often," I mutter.