Yellow Sex
Written by: Ripe Orange
Peel
http/embark.to/lightbulbdistrict
A/N: A beta I have not, so excuse the grammar…or lack they're of. Truth be told I post fics, so far in between a would-be-beta would probably think I fell of the face of the planet. Anyhow… this is just a little thing I've been working on. It's entirety too short for my liking but I just can't seem to make it longer. The inspiration for this fic came to me when I was sitting at a coffee shop and there was a used packet of tea just sitting on the table. A dirty poem came from that, and thus the end result: this.
Major on the mushy factor - E/O, written in a somewhat poetic form. It may say sex, but it's not. In fact this is the closest to smut as I write. Olivia's POV.
Summary: What his would be like; the taste of him, and me. Sweet honey mustard; yellow sex.
It's cold outside; as I step inside the coffee shop, shaking off the frost from my winter coat. I vacate an empty table near the back of the coffee shop and watch as people pass buy, couples, families, the togetherness. I notice a couple across the way. Packets of honey mustard sauce sit vicariously on the table. The scene fascinates me, as the two of them lovingly share their meal.
He rips open one of the packets and the smell immediately hits my nose. It's sweet and thick, a pungent scent. Reminds me of that rough sweet scent's I've come to know so well. The smell of him. He takes a finger swiftly running his finger along the open edge. The sweet honey swirls staining his tip. Licking his finger, Oh how sweet it would be on my tongue. The tangy swirls wrapped around his tongue like a velvet kiss.
A forbidden passionate kiss just indulged in. A secret between two tongues. A secret between two lovers so sweetly wrapped up in each other the world has expired around them as they share a blissful state. A coat of silk surrounds them both, the essence of feeling more alive inside the mouth. What his would be like; a blissful rapture. The taste of him, and me. Sweet honey mustard; yellow sex. His alone.
Everything is red. And our tongues create a warmth inside the mouth. A familiar warmth, but a new one. The warmth of him, one I hadn't experienced. His mouth comes off me, lips red and remains of the sweet honey mustard lightly touching his lips. He knows and his lips make a smile. His tongue would reach to lick, to taste the remains of me and that honey yellow mustard. And to revel in they're yellow sex. For I know that it would be.
The sounds of coffee grinding break her of the sweet dream and into reality once more. I blinks away the happy couple inside the mind. Back into the life of my ever-lonesome state. Life is passing by and I must go on. Picking myself off the table I retrieve my coat and moves in between the tables towards the door, when I notice a shiny metal gleaming to me. Upon the happy couple's table it sat. And I move closer to investigate the object.
A tiny foiled packet, completely flat, it had been used up. But a light trail of yellow was still left at the opening. For I could smell the pungent yellow and remembered how rapture tastes inside of that mustard sauce. Inside of the dream. I reach down grasping the packet and swiftly putting it into my pocket. Hoping I had captured some of the couples yellow sex.
end
