“It’s getting toasty in here.”

His eyes roved over the lace landscape I’d presented. A perfect package of buttoned magic in dark Chantilly lace. Seamed stockings, red lips, a redolent pout and a wicked pair of stillettos shimmered in the half light.

“Buttons and bows,” he said softly. “Take those off!”

“You do it!”

“I can’t you look like a tart.”

“The kind you’d like to eat?”

“I’m hungry and besides I have to go to work.”


“Wait there, I’ll be right back.”

He tossed the demure pink negligee at me just before his exit.

I shook my head. Merde!

He was in the kitchen making breakfast again.

So much for that costume.

In his fantasy I was nothing but an innocent bride.What was the point?

He came back wearing an apron in drag. With toast and Brie. Made up to the nines. Naked.

“Let me wait on you!”

“Hand and foot?”

My toes were already in his mouth before I could utter another word. He began to kiss up and down my thigh as his erection rolled forth into being.

“I want to be the Tartine this time.”

I was silent.

“Eat me first.”

What a mouthful.

© 2013 Valentine Bonnaire. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Valentine Bonnaire’s erotica has appeared at Cleansheets.com and the Erotica Readers and Writers Association. Find her in the archives, and this Spring in one of Maxim’s. More on her webpage valentinebonnaire.com xxoo! or @bonnaire in the twitterverse.

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