 Cody Dare likes to consider the possibilities. Her erotic musings have appeared in Clean Sheets, Playgirl, Libido, and Loving More. Email
Cody Dare.
At Last... I Have Him Eating From the Palm of My Hand David knelt before me, naked and blindfolded. He was shivering; he was rocking like a child who had to pee. He was clenching his hands and biting his lips. “Your dinner is almost ready darling,” I said in a soothing voice. Even though I had prepared David’s favorite foods, I knew the meal would be hard on him. No aesthetic array of color and textures across a mottled blue pottery plate. No silver fork and knife and elegant linen napkin. No eating in his favorite Japanese silk robe sitting at his beloved nineteenth century mahogany drop-leaf table. Tonight was strictly a hand to mouth event. I sat on the sofa in front of him and spread a layer of mashed potatoes on my hand. I had selected the foods for texture, consistency, variety, gooeyness and spreadability. I picked foods I would enjoy nestling in my hand, enjoying the contrast of David’s groping mouth against the hapless mound of my palm. “Here darling, a new type of home plate,” I said. I held my hand near his face, so he could feel the heat. “I hate this,” he said. “I know, “ I said, gently. I moved my hand closer, almost touching his nose. He stuck out his tongue, then quickly retreated it. I moved closer to him. “I don’t want your food to get cold,” I said, just the slightest sense of menace in my voice. I liked the impossible mound of potatoes breaking all rules by huddling on my hand. I liked the sticky feel of them and the bossiness of shoving them too near my lover’s face. I liked being both rude and messy at once. And I liked using this power quietly and gently. He licked up a glob of the potato and shuddered. Potato loitered on his chin. “What is it? This is so gross, it’s degrading.” His penis rose while he talked. His penis reached for me and I reached my fingers closer to his mouth. “My hands are dirty, I need you to clean them for me,” I said. He allowed my index finger into his mouth, then my middle finger. “Suck,” I said and let the reluctant warmth of mouth slide through me. Finger after finger, I had him suck clean. I closed my eyes and got lost in the dark moistness of his mouth. His sucking sent lightning down my arms and I fell into it. Then, I straightened, and instructed his tongue to flicker around the finger wells, stirring up stray scraps of food. “I can’t believe I’m aroused, this is so disgusting,” he said, backing away and screwing up his face. During an ordinary supper, David frequently wiped clean his face. Now, little snowcaps of potato landscaped his cheeks. I scooped up a palmful of vegetable potpie. A carrot dropped onto his thigh and he jumped. I held the mess of vegetables right in his face and he gobbled, his cheeks sticky with dough. I pressed my hand toward him and then he turned his head away. “This is the messiest I’ve ever been,” he moaned. But not for long. I was creating the perfect edible palette: a smear of tuna fish salad, slinky with mayonnaise, a slithery slur of Thai noodles in an aggressively dripping peanut sauce, mashed up strawberries bleeding down my wrists, and flecks of parmesan cheese sprinkled on wine-drenched sautéed onions. All these delicacies crossed my palm and met his lips, his chin, the blur of his cheeks, the wide aching span of his thighs. The sheet he sat on looked like a wild one in a highchair had played airplane all over it. He ate, sometimes tentatively, sometimes greedily, all the while saying, “I don’t like this.” All the while his penis arching and falling. When I asked, “Do you want more,” he gave me the smallest nod, yes. I fed him well. Then I took off the blindfold and cleaned him up, a warm rag inching out the smears of food. “I
have never been so messy. That was so disgusting,” he said. “And do you
what’s the worst part of it all?”
“Everything tasted so good,” he said. Copyright © 2003 Cody Dare. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post. 
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