3 comments/ 16388 views/ 2 favorites Food By: RickBlackwell Silently I creep through the night, tracking my victim. Floating on the breeze I stalk her scent. I close in and her window beckons. Effortlessly I rise past the sill, standing on air. Through the glass I see her. She lies warm and secure in her bed, not knowing her own vulnerability. Not knowing the horror I will visit upon her this night. Her innocence entices me. Her desire lures me. Her blood calls me, powerful for one so young. This one is rare, her age having progressed beyond her own body. For weeks I have stalked her, finding out all I could about her. Her name, where she lives, what she does. Determining that although she has lived for eighteen years, her body is only now advancing into womanhood. She is untouched, unsullied by any man, pure, innocent, chaste, undefiled -- rare. The night wind stirs her chestnut tresses through the small space she has unwittingly left between the window and the sill. I feel the hunger upon me. The urge. The drive. The burn. I draw myself apart, thinning, becoming effervescent, insubstantial -- mist. Drawn by the breeze, I flow through the tiny opening, sinking as I enter. Gently I spread throughout her room, a dense fog enshrouding her floor in a blanket of cloud. Gathering the shifting tendrils of myself together, I rise, coalescing from the very air to stand at the foot of her bed. My stealth is flawless, having been forged and practiced over nearly one and a half millennia and I have made no sound, yet she stirs, her down cover falling away to reveal her soft, nubile, unclad body. Somehow she has perceived me from beyond the boundaries of sleep and is drifting toward consciousness. I release my will. She breathes deeply, once, and begins to drift back. I do not wish her to be awake yet. I wish to simply immerse myself in her beauty. I watch as she slumbers, her stirrings stirring in me a yearning to feel her. To know her. The very essence of her being. Her very soul. I remain still, biding my time, immersing myself in her subconscious spirit for a time. Finally I can contain myself no longer and I release my hold upon her mind. Again she stirs, drifting toward consciousness but this time by my design. Her eyelids slowly divide and she reaches awareness. She does not see me at first, not recognizing her surroundings; still caught up in her dream. As the dream fades and she becomes cognizant she perceives me for the first time. Her eyes widen in fear and she opens her mouth to scream. With a flicker of silent movement I am beside her, crouching over her, my hand covering her mouth. She freezes at my touch, barely daring even to breathe. My gaze, locked with her own, holds her motionless. My fingertips begin to move over her face. Tracing her ice blue eyes. Touching her full, supple lips. Moving along her aquiline jaw to her dainty ear. I hesitate at her throat, her racing pulse beckoning; the innocence of her blood calling, but I resist and my hand moves across her throat and further down her trembling body. I gently stroke her barely formed breasts, fingertips circling her diminutive areolas, the cold of my touch making her tiny nipples harden and become erect. She sighs, moaning quietly despite her fear. Again, I release my will, dispelling the fear, suppressing everything but the secret desire that I sense within her. Her willingness surprises me. She does not have the experience to know what awaits her, yet she seems to yearn for it to happen. Her breathing quickens as I caress the smooth skin of her midriff, flirting with her navel. A sharp intake of breath as I approach the bare, pristine domain of her femaleness. I pass it by slowly, leaving it untouched for the moment, savoring the anticipation I feel within her as much as my own. As I gently stroke the inside of her thigh my tongue flickers out and teases a nipple. Her body shudders and she gasps, arching her back with pleasure. I slowly draw my tongue along her neck almost succumbing to the tortuous desire to take her now. I control my rapacity, running my finger back up her inner thigh. Her legs part as I reach her inner sanctum and gently stroke her outer labia. She gasps again and her breathing becomes more rapid as my tongue drifts lower again. I pause briefly again at her petite breasts, slowly licking suckling and nibbling them. I can sense her anticipation as her body undulates on her bed. My fingers easily part her lips and the scent of her mounting desire drives my urgency further. Yet I restrain myself, lest I spoil the moment. The consummation of this night would be all the more delicious for having awaited the proper time. I ease a finger into her, feeling the wetness but again I restrain myself, having come upon the barrier, which I knew I would find there. I would not ruin this night by breaking it with a finger -- oh no. That would come later. I ease the finger back out, continuing to lick and suck her breasts and begin to stroke her swelling clitoris. Her breath begins to come in short, shuddering pants. I move now, positioning my face between her legs and continue stroking her clitoris, but now with my tongue. Her breathing quickens even more now as she starts to gyrate her hips, pressing the soft, barely grown down of her virgin womanhood against my face. I pull apart the folds of her labia and push back her clitoral hood and begin to suck gently on her clitoris. She shudders, arches her back, and bathes my face in a wash of juices. I drink them up eagerly as an aperitif for what is to come. I continue to alternately lick and suck her clitoris, occasionally dipping down to penetrate her outer layers. All the while, making sure the barrier within remains unbroken. With her hands clamped solidly to my head and her legs locked around my shoulders, she bathes me in her sweet, juvenescent flood three more times. As the waves from her last orgasm begin to dissipate, she unlocks her legs from my shoulders and pulls me upward. She knows what will come next and I sense within her the keenness of her desire for it to happen, though she is still unaware of its true nature. I oblige her, my own desire almost overwhelming me. She pulls my face to hers and kisses me hungrily, tasting herself on my tongue as I plunge it into her mouth. I sense that she expects me to enter her then but I continue upward, bringing my erect member to her face. Somehow she understands and eagerly takes me into her mouth. Holding me in position with her hand she slowly begins to rock back and forth along the shaft. She takes me out of her warm, wet mouth to flick her tongue at the tip, lapping up the drops of juice that she gently squeezes from it. Taking me into her mouth again she begins to move up and down the shaft more quickly, bringing me closer and closer to my own orgasm. At the last possible moment before I reach the point of no return I pull my column from her mouth. I would not cheat myself of the ultimate prize. Maidenhood is not easy to find in this day and age and it must be taken in the proper manner. I move slowly downward again then, bringing myself to bear on her vestal aperture. She is still wet and I gently push into her, almost immediately coming up against the barrier within. With the greatest of care I begin moving, gently pressing and then easing back. Bit by bit, little by little I begin to feel the barrier start to give way as I slowly make my way further inside her. I have not even penetrated her and she gasps again, shuddering in the throes of a fifth orgasm. She throws her legs around me, locking them in the small of my back and, with a low cry, forces me fully into herself in one, great thrust. My penetration is full and complete and I am buried completely inside of her. Quickly I pull out and replace my shaft with my tongue. The issue from the breaking of the barrier is sweeter and more rare than the best vintage of wine. I have only drunk from that particular cup five times in all my fourteen hundred years. It is to be savored and remembered. When the flow slows to a trickle I again move upward. I position myself and penetrate her again. Moving together, slowly at first and then more quickly, we begin to undulate. Together we rock back and forth building to our denouement. I slide into her, the walls of her opening, saturated with moisture, squeezing me tighter and tighter as she races toward another orgasm. My own orgasm is impending now and I sense the urgency in her moans. I quicken my pace. Our bodies are drenched with perspiration, beads of it dripping off me onto her body, glistening silver in the moonlight. She pulls me closer as her moans turn to wails. Building, closer and closer I approach my own climax, the walls of her womanhood squeezing me even tighter. Her wails turn to howls as she peaks again in another tumultuous orgasm, flooding the sheets of her bed with liquid. Now it is time. I am approaching the brink now, almost there. I redouble my efforts and drive into her even harder and faster. As I stare deeply into her eyes I cascade over the edge and release a torrent of my own fluid deep within her. At the same moment, while she is still transfixed by my eyes and howling in the throes of yet another orgasm, the howls turn to screams as I bare my fangs and plunge them deep into her Carotid artery. The flow from her is sweet beyond comparison. Driven tumultuously through the artery less than ten inches from a heart beating at a rate of one hundred and ninety beats per minute. Laced through and through with adrenaline and high strength endorphins, the flavor is incomparable. The difference between this and my usual repast is like the difference between wine and champagne (or outdoor and hydro). It's a little harder to obtain and it costs a little more, but it's worth it. She is still now. Drained. Definitely a rare vintage. A pity she can only be enjoyed once. At least she did not die a virgin. That would have been a waste. One of these days I'm going to have to learn not to play with my food... Food Monique had spent a week of nights prowling the bars and clubs of the beach community looking for the perfect birthday present for her Master. The blond surfer, all golden tanned and sleek but for his milk white ass, was ideal. He had very little body hair and the contrast between his white ass and golden skin was magnificent. Seducing him had been easy. On the seventh night he shown up with his buddies and had instantly hit on her. Maybe if he had known he was hitting on a succubus he might have had second thoughts, but men were so foolish. One night in her bed and he was hooked. Unfortunately she wasn't keeping him. Hanging from a fucking frame by his hands and knees, minimum support under his back, he stared around the great hall of vampires with horror in his blue eyes. A red ball gag filled his mouth and kept him quiet. The frame held his knees wide apart and a large yellow plug was stuffed into his rectum in preparation for the fucking he was about to get from the Master. Monique, nude but for a leather harness that held her breasts up high and delectable stood beside him and smiled. She had fucked the lovely young man and had fed off him sexually, but she had not taken any blood. That would be for the Master. "You are in for such a treat," she purred and ran her long lacquered nails over his golden tanned chest. "Master is an incubus, and he'll treat your ass to the greatest fuck possible. Oh you'll still like tits and pussy, but your ass will want cock. Hard throbbing cock." All the vampires in Master's kiss had started out as food for him. The ones he liked he turned into succubi or incubi. Monique was over three hundred years old, but her perfect body looked twenty four. The French court before the revolution had been a wonderful place to hunt. Master looked all of thirty but was old enough to remember Attila the Hun. It was whispered that he had been a Roman soldier turned by a succubus in Gaul, but that was just a rumor. Master claimed he couldn't remember the exact circumstances that had led to his transformation, but Monique had her suspicions. Monique's 'food' two lovely girls with pale skin and large breasts were completely nude and obediently sat at her feet. Like most of her kind, Monique viewed humans whether male or female as food. She'd kept men in the past but had found them annoying at best. As was customary of her kind, when she tired of them, she had turned them loose. It was the right thing to do. She didn't know what her girls were sexually whether straight or not, but now they were bisexual. Golden boy would wind up the same way, his ass demanding cock even if his brain resisted. In time he would accept the way things were and offer his ass to anyone who wanted it. Good sex was good sex, and having an incubus fucking you was heavenly. Master arrived to applause with his entourage of vampires and 'food' following. He was dressed to look like Julius Caesar, but he was way too pretty to pull it off. Dark haired and eyed, he looked like sex and sin all rolled into one gorgeous package. Having already fed on blood, his cock was ready for action. He smiled and accepted kisses from his devoted followers. Some actually dropped to their knees and kissed his massive gold ring. Master moved through the crowd and stopped, his eyes settling on the beautiful male hanging from the fucking frame. He needed to see it. "Who brings me this?" he asked curiously and ran his hand over the flat belly and trembling legs of the 'food'. "I did, Master," Monique replied and kissed his cheek. "He looks delicious," Master said and circled the squirming body. "I love the contrast in color," he said and squeezed the firm right buttocks. "Have you taken blood?" "No Master," Monique replied with a proud smile. "His blood and ass are both virginal." Master looked up in amazement. "Really? You have not sampled this tasty creature?" "I resisted the urge," she explained. "My girls and I have spent days preparing him for you." Master smiled and grabbed both ass cheeks in his hand and pulled them apart. He could see the yellow plug and hot oil oozing from the food's rectum. "Does he have a name?" "Rick," she answered with a sniff of distaste. "Oh, agreed," he said. "I will have to change that. But first..." He wanted to fuck this lovely creature now. Helped out of his robes by his entourage, he smiled at the horrified look on "food's" face. Master's cock was splendid, huge long and deep red. Food couldn't imagine anything that big invading his virgin ass. Master smiled and grabbed the butt plug ring, pulling it out and spilling hot oil down the food's crack. Food tried to clench his buttocks tight, but Master clucked softly and spread them farther apart. Master's power was sex, and he was letting the young man feel the effect of being touched by him. Food's cock twitched with interest. "There now," Master purred and pressed his engorged cock head against the hot oily opening. The food began to pant as Master's cock slowly pushed its way into the well prepared body. Just as Monique had promised, Master's cock turned 'food's" body into one massive throbbing orgasm waiting to happen. Food's erection grew, his skin burning hot as Master continued to fuck him. In and out, faster and faster. Food came violently and Master fed on the orgasms that would continue as long as Master fucked him. Food screamed his pleasure behind the ball gag as Master pounded him over and over. Those watching the breaking in of the virgin ass applauded their approval. Master came violently, filling food with his hot cum, and the moment he could think clearly Master fell forward, his cock still bedded deeply inside of food's ass, and sank his teeth into food's throat. Hot blood full of adrenalin filled Master's mouth, as he drank deep. Food, his heart pounding uncontrollably, rolled his eyes back in his head and fainted. Pleased with himself and not wanting to kill such a delicious meal, Master raised himself and slowly withdrew his cock from the quivering body. "Delicious," he remarked as someone wiped his body off with a clean wash cloth and towel. Someone else knelt before him and sucked his cock clean. "Clean him up and place him in Helena's bed. No one is to fuck him but me, but she can use a vibrator on him to take the edge off when he wakes up." She would also be incapable of fucking him naturally. Master wanted to make sure no one touched that tender ass but him. Helena was a tall blonde mortal and a part of Master's food. She washed the cum and blood off food's body with scented water, while the men Maurice and Andre turned him over. The three of them knew well what food was going through as they had all lived through the fucking frame. Even now the two men had enormous butt plugs stuffed in their anuses humming constantly on their sensitive prostrates. If the tension became too great they would suck each other off, but under no condition could they remove the plugs without Master's permission or morning came. Their asses had to be ready and available if Master wanted them. Helena also wore a plug and a butterfly that went off every five minutes. If Andre or Maurice wanted to suck her tits, they could, but her pussy and ass were off limits. "There now," Helena said as they rolled food back on his back. She was about to arrange his body when the butterfly went off and lashed her clit mercilessly. She moaned wantonly and prayed for a malfunction that would let the butterfly go on and on. Sitting on the side of the bed with the two men kneeling on the floor, she pressed her hand against her mound and waited for it to subside. The men raised themselves slightly and took the pale pink nipples in their mouths and sucked greedily. Helena whimpered and continued rubbing her mound even when the butterfly stopped humming. With her overly heightened sexuality, she rubbed and rubbed while they sucked until the butterfly kicked in again. The orgasm shook her body and gave her temporary relief from the constant tension. She would have loved some cock but Master's rules were explicit, no one fucked his food but him. If they wanted to fuck during the day, all well, but not at night. "Oh, I needed that," she sighed and looked back at their new companion. With this cute male joining them, that made six males and four females a part of Master's food. Rising from the bed, knowing that her companion was not going to wake up before morning, she and the men returned to Master's party. One of his women, Angelique was on a red velvet swing being fucked by one of Master's lieutenants as a reward for service rendered. Angelique's orgasms tasted like honey to the vampires which made her a popular meal. Helena sat on the floor at the foot of Master's chair. Her small orgasms over the period of the night would be snacks for those in her vicinity. Andre and Maurice stood behind his chair with their hands folded demurely in front of them, while their asses were exquisitely tortured. The Master's other men were on the floor in the middle of the hall giving each other blow jobs for the entertainment of the group. The women were giving oral sex to men and women. Helena preferred pussy licking to sucking cock, but in Master's house you did what you were told. Food & Oral Pleasures Colleen. Fair skinned and red haired. Long dark hair cut short, but still think and a handful. Her eyes were deep and rich, hiding a secret behind them. Her body? Oh, she had curves. Held in a way that was both and sexy, a body that you could enjoy and explore, a body that just oozed sensuality for me. I met her through a posting one of us had put up. I'm not sure who answered whom at this point, but it was enough that we found such similarity between us. Both in our likes and dislikes, as well as our attitudes and level of open mindedness, as well as our mutual desire for a power exchange -- fortunately from opposite sides of the same coin. The subtext that flowed through our email breathed of sensual pursuits and erotic adventures, of her enjoying a strong hand and a dominating spirit -- something that caused the pulse to beat a bit harder and the imagination to wander. We finally agreeing to meet at an upscale corner bar -- a place in New York's Meat Packing district, for upscale cocktails and whispered conversations. Dark lights and low tables that induced strangers into illicit glances and covert subtleties. We met and chatted, having only known each other's typing, well aside from a brief conversation over the phone that is. We quickly settled into some initial conversation, keeping it light until we both overcame the social mores that a cocktail is great for. By our second cocktail, our conversation floated toward the sensual side. At first a joke about spanking, then a comment about tasting which slid into a subtle touch, some glances. A finger on each others knees, thighs, shoulders and faces. It was enough. We kissed in public, before I rose for the restroom. I returned, but rather than to my bar seat, I pressed up behind her, letting my cock just touch the cleft between her cheeks, pressing my hardness into her ass. I could feel her curve her back, raising her rear up to me, as if a cat in heat, readying herself for penetration. Her skirt stretched around her rump, outlining her firm flesh perfectly. My own cock feeling the valley formed in the fabric. We stood like that until the bill came, and then that was it for the evening. Just enough to know what we wanted and to hope for more. Something to solidify what we imagined was there, and to see where it could all go. Our next meeting was set for Sunday. A private brunch; something fun and interesting and enabling us to take things to the next level if we wished. Something that would allow her to sit back and enjoy, a chance to speak more honestly than we could in public, but also to be led to her own pleasures. It was agreed that I would show up with our brunch. So I spent Saturday shopping -- for farm fresh eggs for poaching, lox and fresh bread. I also picked up some champagne and orange juice for mimosas, as well as fresh fruit -- strawberries, blueberries, melon, a banana and ripe mangos. I also added some honey into the bag for my own tastes, as well as a toy I thought might come to use. What can I say, but some delights for us to snack on and enjoy. On Sunday, I arrived at her door and knocked gently. It swung open to reveal her in a knee length skirt and blouse. I smiled. Her blouse was just revealing, nothing too much, but enough to give a hint of what lay beneath. She gave me a light peck at the door and invited me in. Her apartment was small but nice. What we'd call Brooklyn Compaction -- small, but well done. She asked what I had brought, but instead I simply went to the kitchen to pour us both a mimosa and set out some food. A tray of samples as it were - fruit that was light and easy, along with some scones. We started to talk, to pick up from where we had left off. We sipped our mimosas too quickly and got a bit of a head going. Smirks and smiles, slipping with flirtations, kept us going until the first bottle was finished. And when it was, I opened the second, the two of us together pouring yet another glass. It was then that I walked behind her, invading her personal space and placing my hands on her waist. I could feel her tension, I could feel her hesitancy and her desire mixed in her stance. I also could feel my own desire to pick up where we left off in the bar. I pulled her hips toward me, arching her back as her hands left the glasses and braced herself on the countertop. She tried to turn towards me. Perhaps for an embrace, but I would never know. Instead I kissed her neck and told her I wanted to taste her. Her breath was a rush, perhaps even a bit of a moan. I kissed her neck, her back, her buttocks. Then rose back up to follow her spine back upwards to her neck and shoulders again. I told her to bring the drinks to the table, leading her as I walked behind her, my hands guiding her hips to the dining table. I tell her to bend forward because I want to taste her. She does, stopping at the plate of sliced fruit in front of her. I step behind her and open her blouse, opening each button and pulling her shirt aside. Her braless breasts bounce slightly at they fall our and as I push her even further forward. Her breasts press into the fruit, I can see her try to pull up, uncomfortable with the contact to the wet flesh, but my gentle hand on her back prevents her. Instead I raise her skirt up, up over her buttocks and waist. I roll it up on her waist to keep it and to make sure her ass and pussy are completely bared and open to me. And that is when I sit at the table to taste. I open my shirt and lean forward, my tongue just barely touching the puckering skin around her anus. I lick first, then push my tongue into her folds. I can hear a quick, light gasp. That's enough. I turn my head sideways and move downward to her pussy. I can see her lips glistening from the moisture. I can see the open like an Asian flower. I can smell her scent as her body readies herself whether she wants to or not. That was it. An invitation for me to continue. And I did. I licked deeply into her -- feeling the folds of her sex open to me. Tasting the salty, pungent flavor of her sensuality. I reached forward and felt the edge of the plate her body was resting on. I could feel the cold, wet flesh of the fruit. I grabbed one. It was a mango, a fruit that was soft and pliant like the folds of her pussy. I rubbed it onto her, letting the sprinkle of chili I had used absorb itself into her tender flesh. I could see the faint pepper have its effect -- turning the skin just rosy, and causing her to jump. I licked the fruit that was halfway into her opening, then devoured the sweet and savory delight before me. I spent minutes playing with her juices, watching the strands of sticky wetness connect my tongue to her clit. I watched as she moaned and writhed from my tongue, the peppers, the fruit itself. I stood and walked to her, offering her the mango that tasted so much like her. She opened her mouth, as if to suck in my cock, but settled on the fruit itself. I told her to unbutton me. And she did. She quickly opened my pants and reached in for my cock. I pulled back and reached down, pulling out a strawberry and placing it in her mouth. "Chew it, but don't swallow it." I told her. She did, and when it was masticated, I slid my cock into her mouth. I watched as the juice and some of the pulp slid from the side of her mouth. I watched as she tried to keep it all in, but couldn't. I watched as my cock came out reddened from the berries. I also watched as her body lunged forward on the table to try and take more of me into her lips. I removed my cock and placed several rasberries into her mouth. This time I held her hair and turned her head, forcing her lips to open as I shoved my cock in a bit harder this time. Again, I watched as she tried to take more and more in. She gagged just a bit, both on the fruit and my own flesh. My hand moved down her blouse and to her rump. I slapped her. Hard. Leaving a redness on her cheek. My hand slid downward, into the cleft between right and left, my fingers moving to her wetness. I slid a finger into her, feeling for the firmness that occurs on the front wall. Looking to stimulate it before removing my cock and reaching from more fruit to taste myself. I sat down again, rubbing her clit with a slice of banana before taking it into my mouth and again, spending time eating her pussy. I tell Colleen to reach back and spread herself for me. She does, her own hands reach for her lips, pulling them apart so I can sink my face deeper and deeper into her. I stop to remove a bit of mashed banana and to offer it to her. She lets go of her lips for a moment to lift up and turn. I spank her again. Hard. "Don't ever let go of your lips, unless I tell you to." She almost whimpers. She turns her head, mashing her breasts further into the fruit they are resting on. Her lips search for the banana. I press it into them and she barely has to chew before swallowing. As a punishment I take a slice of nectarine and press it into her ass. I have to use a finger to ease her open just a bit, mashing the nectarine into the pucker of her anus. I lick it, licking her ass, rimming her with the fruit. I rise again, offering her my finger with the fruit pressed into my own flesh. She takes it. Her eyes losing a bit of their focus, telling me she's going over. I pick up the teaspoon from the honey jar, and dribble it on my cock. I smile as she rises to engulf it. I watch as the honey coats her lips, smears on her cheeks. I take another teaspoonful and dribble it only her lips and my cocks, intentionally sending sticky strands across her cheeks. I lift my cock out, stroking it as her lips sink down to my balls. I reach down and continue to fuck her with the fruit. My own efforts becoming harder, stronger, driven by the lust and passion I have for my access to her ass and cunt. I hand her the fruit from her pussy, telling her what it is and watching as she turns her head from my balls to accept it without letting go of her pussy. Her face is stained with the color of my cock -- reddened by the berries I have pressed into her pussy. Her ass now has a banana sticking from it. Her pussy is golden with the honey. I want to eat more. I do. I bend my face to her, eating her and the fruit as one. Hearing her moan. Finally allowing her to let go of her own pussy so she can push back into my mouth. I want to taste her, to feel her, to embrace her orgasm. When I finally slide my cock into her, it is without resistance. It is mixed with the pulp of fruit and the lubricant of her own body. I fuck her slowly. I watch as she turns, her eyes glassy, her mouth open, her face sticky, stained, and a canvas of brunch. I pull her hair back, forcing her body to arch more, forcing her to open her cunt to my thrusts. And when I cum, I pull out to cum onto her ass and pussy. I cum to that I can taste that too. So that I can gather it in my mouth -- a collection of cum, of her pussy, and of the fruit I brought -- and kiss her deeply. I pull her off the table onto me. I'm still hard and want more. So I pull her down onto my cock and re-enter her. We kiss harder, deeper, our bodies entwining in the orgy our brunch has become. My fingers reach behind her to press into her ass, to play with her clit, to spank her and stimulate her further than before. I let her taste my fingers before going again, watching her cum and cum again. Almost numbed, we rose and took a long, hot shower. Soaping each other tenderly, exploring each other in a new way. Sucking, tasting, caressing, but now more softly. And after we dried each other, I sat her down while I poached the eggs and toasted the muffins and prepare a quick lemon/butter sauce. Each egg, settled atop the lox, atop the muffin, with just a drizzle of the lemon sauce. I made us some strong coffee. And we dined on a proper brunch. She smiled, starved for the food, loving the care it was prepared with. I smiled knowing how she enjoyed both courses. Knowing she hadn't even thought about the remote stimulator I had brought for the third course...