On the Line

by Naomi Loud

Good food does lead to sex. As it should. ANTHONY BOURDAIN

“You’re going to go in the back, unwrap this.” I tap a finger on the Snickers bar. “And slide it up your pretty cunt.” Her breath hitches, and my cock swells against my boxers. “Then bring it back to me.” I crowd her just a little bit more. “I want to taste you on it.”

“You taste better than I could’ve ever dreamed,” Ozzy whispers near my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin. “I’ll make sure you lose to me more often.”

“I’d crawl on my hands and knees …” Leaning closer, I caress her cheek with the back side of my hand and whisper in her ear, “To have you on my tongue again.”

“Tell me you don’t want my fingers inside your cunt, while your piece of shit boyfriend is within earshot.”

“If I could swallow you whole I fucking would, consume all of you just for another taste.”

“The girl,” I say in a near whisper, “was a courtier’s mistress.” I point to the man in the painting. He’s lying in the gardens just below the swing, one arm outstretched toward her. “That’s him.” My hand climbs up Ozzy’s back, now on his nape, slowly raking my nails over his scalp. “Secretly admiring her from below.” I feel him shiver under my touch. “But,” I say, my mouth still close to his ear, nipping his earlobe. “You see how her leg is raised?” His Adam’s apple bobs on a hard swallow as he nods. My other hand flattens low on his stomach, my pinky finger caressing the skin just beneath his shirt. “Women back then didn’t wear anything under their gowns.” I pause, chuckling darkly. “A little bit like me today.”

“So from the courtier’s vantage point, he’s seeing a lot more than just her leg.” Leaning even closer, I feel Ozzy’s body wound tight under my touch. I grin with satisfaction. “Don’t you wish that was you?” My whisper is taunting, full of unspoken desires. “Don’t you wish you could see what’s underneath my dress?” I pause, slowly licking my lips, my heart racing with the risk I’m about to take. “You pathetic little slut.”