Not Just Something I Ate
We stood in my bedroom, facing each other. She was undoing the buttons on her shirt, not looking at me. I was trying not to look at her. At last, once her clothes were off, she came up close to me and whispered in my ear.
“I agreed to your terms,” she said. “I’m giving myself to you. But I need to ask something of you.”
“Uh-huh?” I asked, trying not to look at her nakedness.
“Take good care of me? Let me out every so often…I know, you don’t have to, but I’d kind of like it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“And don’t forget about me. Don’t talk yourself into thinking I’m just ‘something you ate.’”
I snorted. “I doubt that’ll happen at this point.”
“And…one more thing.” She leaned in closer.
“Try not to eat too much spicy food? Capsicum doesn’t break down in your stomach, so I get to taste it all the way down.” And then she kissed me.
The kiss went on for a good ten seconds or so before she even started to bring herself inside.