Erotic Art of Tara Alton: Sugar Rush
By Tara Alton
When I met him, I was a little awestruck with his blue eyes, dark wavy hair and dimples, but I told myself he wasn’t someone you could take seriously.
No one with his dreamy looks could ever be interested in me, and yet when he started to look my way, I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to be another notch in his bedpost. I told him that if he was ever going to get near the vicinity of the top button of my pants than he was going to have to court me in an extraordinary way. He had to discover the one thing I truly loved and he had to demonstrate this knowledge beyond the plain and simple obvious gesture.
Sure, it was easy enough to buy a girl flowers and candy, and I starting to think he was way off the mark with a dozen daisies and a box of assorted chocolates from the grocery store, but after he caught me savoring a caramel when I thought he wasn’t looking, he realized my true love was possibly sugar.
It was then he brought me a single piece of elegant milk chocolate layered with pecans, caramel, and marshmallow that was tucked inside a little, pristine paper white bag. This was the dreamiest concoction that had ever entered my mouth, and by the time I finished it, my panties were feeling positively moist.
During the next few weeks, more delights followed. He took me for a chocolate milk shake in a retro malt shop, a plate of French toast drizzled with warm maple syrup in a diner, and a cupcake with so much frosting that it blew my mind in a local bakery that I never knew existed.
I was becoming saturated with sugar in my every pore. I had never been happier. By the time he brought me a perfect pink frosted donut to my apartment, every sprinkle like a jewel, I decided I was going to let him in the region of the top button of my pants.
As I sat next to him on the sofa, the last crumb of the donut safely between my lips, I moved his hands over to my waist. With fumbling fingers, he undid my first button. A sigh escaped me. Now his hand was trembling inside the waistband of my pants, the warmth of his fingers on my skin, his fingertips unknowingly brushing the beginnings of my treasure trail. His lips were next to my ear.
“If you let me go any further, I will buy you all the sugar I can find from Detroit to New Orleans,” he said.
I paused, knowing full well that I was already going to let him strip me bare like Lady Godiva and lick every sweet inch of me, inside and out, but I just couldn’t resist.
“I’ll just take another piece of that heavenly chocolate,” I said, pushing his hand toward the neither regions of my panties where the other epicenter of true bliss lay.
Copyright 2007 Tara Alton.