Prompt: Taste
It used to be chocolate cake. Decadent chocolate cake that was made with the best of chocolate. Brenda would crave the taste of it on her tongue, melting in the warmth of her mouth. Her mother used to make her the best cakes when she was younger: on her birthdays, when she got especially good grades, and sometimes for dessert after Sunday dinner.
In college there was a bakery that made the best chocolate chip cookies she'd ever had in her life. Those easily became her obsession. She liked them most when they were just finish cooling down. Brenda would stop at the bakery three times a week, four if she found the time. Brenda loved the way the chocolate tasted, the sweetness of it when she bit into the warm cookie. They would make her head spin, her mouth water; they were delicious.
Like the cake, cookies had been replaced. It was Will Pope that got her hooked on Reese's Cups; he used to slip her one at the end of a long day back in DC. She never ate them in front of him, but she knew he was aware how much she loved them. The saltiness of the peanut butter mixed with the chocolate was a taste that was so good words could never describe it.
Reese's Cups started to remind her of Will, so she stopped eating them as often. When she was back in Atlanta, Brenda started eating Ding Dongs. There was no saltiness, so there was no reminder of Will. There was just that kind of sweetness that she craved, and that was all she really needed.
But she no longer craved chocolate cake. She no longer missed the taste of chocolate chip cookies. Reese's Cups just didn't do it for her. Not even Ding Dongs were on her mind. There was only one taste Brenda wanted on the tip of her tongue. The taste of all tastes. Once she had it, there was no replacing it, no finding anything better. There was one taste that just couldn't be topped.
Sharon Raydor. She tasted like Heaven and Hell intertwined together. When she kissed Sharon, her tongue slowly caressing all the sensitive spots in the other woman's mouth, Brenda found herself moaning. Her mouth always tasted phenomenal. Sharon's sweaty skin was salty on Brenda's tongue, good enough to make anyone with a working mind go crazy. She would lazily roll her tongue over the curves and dips of Sharon's body, tasting her, feeling her, enjoying her completely. And even better than that was the taste of Sharon in her mouth as she fucked her. Earthy, tangy, and so delicious that Brenda could get drunk off of the taste.
There had been many, many tastes that Brenda craved throughout her life, but none quite compared to Sharon Raydor.