Ode to a Work of Art Ch. 01

I walked into the diner that night expecting a simple cup of lousy coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich with stale bread. It suited my mood for the day. It had been raining the last three days and there was an early chill in the air for the fall. Normally I like the seasonal changes but this year it seemed that Mother Nature couldn't make up her mind what she wanted to do.

I looked to the bar and the cook waved to any table or booth that I wanted. It was probably because there was only one other table in the joint. An older couple, not even paying attention to each other. He, sipping his soup while trying to avoid getting any on his tie, and her examining what was on her plate with a fork and a discerningly disgusted look. This would have been funny if I was in the mood for fun.

I walked over and plopped myself down in a booth with a plethora of duct tape repairs and a table that leaned if there weren't salt packets underneath one leg. More to my mood. There was a menu on the table, and I glanced at it more for entertainment and something to do rather than getting anything other than what was I kind of in the mood for. The cook yelled if I wanted coffee, and I nodded yes. I figured he was the only one working the joint and thought to myself, "Who picked this place?" I chuckled in spite of myself at the thought and set the menu aside when I heard someone with the coffee.

Someone was right! My initial thought about the number of people working was off by at least 1 and boy was I glad for it! In front of me was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen. Deep eyes that I could spend a week in and only touch the surface. Smooth curves that would make a blind man aroused. I bet there wasn't another woman in the world that could fill out the cheap waitress outfit that she had on.

I was shocked out of my thoughts when I realized she was talking. It was like waking up for the alarm in the middle of a dream and you'd rather be back in the dream! "What are you deaf or something?" No, I replied and hoped that I hadn't been staring too badly, to eliminate the need to ask her for my eyes back. She set the coffee down with a, "Hmpph", and turned away.

"Congratulations clown! You didn't win any style points there!" I thought to myself annoyingly. When she turned, this view was even better and if I had been drinking the coffee, I would have choked myself because she took my breath away.

Several tattoos were just visible, and she had a body that every soldier overseas fighting or defending anything of worth, had in their gear that same picture, to remind them of what perfection was back here. The way she walked was a cross between sultry and silky. She could move in all the right ways, not meaning to probably, it was just the way God made her.

I made a note to thank the Creator when I thought about something other than her again. This might take a long cold shower and going through some family albums to get her out of my mind.

She came back to the table and asked me what I wanted, and again I couldn't find my tongue for some reason, it was there, I could feel it, like a dry lump, somehow paralyzed. I stammered about the ham sandwich, and she asked about fries which I nodded.

Sometime later she came back around and asked how I was on coffee. I asked for another cup and after she poured it, she said something that threw me off completely.

"You're new in here, but you're cute, and don't worry I get those looks all the time, but yours is different. You want to talk on my break?"

Did I want to talk, here was dessert practically staring me in the face, did I want to talk!?! Yes, in every language I could think of and some I couldn't. I got out a polite, "I would like that." And the cook called out my food. She got up, walked away and I swear there was just a bit more wiggle and sass there.

"Boss says I can take my break now so we can talk while you eat if you want."

Hell, yes, I wanted. Here I was with someone that would put Marylyn Monroe to shame, and she wanted to talk to me. She looked at me and I figured this was my opening. I asked about her tattoos. She explained where they all were and what they were. I asked her if she was shy about them and said no. She said she didn't get offended easily or often. She was a "free spirit" so to speak.

At hearing that, I still don't know what came over me or what I was thinking but I asked here what she thought they would taste like. She looked at me startled for a moment and I thought I had just died in the conversation.

Then she said, "I don't know I haven't tasted them, but I would guess that depending on where they are they might taste different."

I asked politely now, mind thinking clearly now, "Do you want me to tell you what I think they would taste like?"

"Sure Sugar, go ahead, I think I'd like to see where this is going." Ok I hadn't died yet. The cook yelled at her that her break was over.

"Was that a half hour or whatever already!?! Wow time flies when you're not paying attention!"

"Hey Sugar, why don't we continue this later when I'm off? I get off around midnight. Is that ok?"

Once again, all the yesses came into my head and I nodded, probably too energetically. She got up and walked away and this time I noticed she didn't pull her skirt down so far as she stood. Allowing me to get a tiny glimpse of her lower thighs.

I am a staunch admirer of the female form and one of the most exciting parts of a woman are her thighs. Goosebumps on a woman's thighs are the roadmap to heaven! I smoothed my tie and went to eat my sandwich. The bread could have been rock hard, but it didn't matter, for once today, I had something to look forward to.

I left for a while to bide the time for when I would meet her after work. I don't even remember what I did, I just know that it was slower than time has ever been it seemed. I stopped in a store window and straightened my tie and refurled my hat. Stupid thing to do really but I was a gentleman first.

I arrived a couple minutes early and she was just finishing up. I figured she might like something to eat that she didn't have to make herself or deliver so I offered to take her to a nice all-night sit down joint nearby. The food was good, but I was not hungry, well for food anyway. She accepted and we walked in and got a table in the back where we could talk. She wanted to hear me continue my story.

"Ok, I'm ready for your thoughts on what my tats taste like.", she said with a wry smile and a slight twinkle in her eye.

"Ok, how many do you have?", I asked.

"One on my lower leg that's for family, front shoulder, forearm, ring finger, and one on my back between the shoulders."

My mind went blank for a moment, visualizing instead of thinking and then coming back to the work of art in front of me.

"Ok, let's see, leg tastes like cookies and smells like love, that's what family is like."

She nodded with a sort of quizzical look.

"The one on your shoulder tastes like a cross between sweet and spicy. Sweet I think because if you allow someone to taste there it's you (sweet) but spicy to warn people that you are an equal."

Now I could see her nodding as if she had never thought about it before but curious and I wondered if I was still a good judge of people.

"Your forearm tastes like chocolate. This is because you nibble chocolate and that would make you get goosebumps. How am I doing?"

"I think you're doing great!", she said a little silkier this time.

"Ring finger is the appetizer and depending on where it has been whets the appetite for tasting more."

"Sadly, it's on the wrong hand for that... that's my left hand that goes places..." and she winked and smiled. "I'll give it to you this once." She smiled and giggled a bit at that. A cute little giggle that was nervous but excited at the same time.

"Finally, the one on your back tastes like warm maple syrup that needs to be licked and sucked till it is as clean as can be."

This gets you to shudder and catch your breath.

"This makes the nectar in the hive that me the humble bee likes to taste so much."

She did shudder for a second at the thought and she squirmed a little in the booth. I could indeed see goosebumps starting.

"Remember, goosebumps on a woman's thighs are the road map to the beautiful flower between them. It blooms more as I get closer and shows its soft petals and little bud."

Now she was shivering a bit, and I took my jacket off and put it around her. The inquisitive yet guarded gleam in her eye was back. I let one more compliment go out of the truest part of my mind, I am honest to a fault, after all.

"My favorite part besides the flower ia where the thighs meet your pubic area. The cleft is the tastiest part. The heady aroma is intoxicating and leaves me lightheaded. Little tiny kisses and nips to the petals usually get hands in my hair. The gentle brush of the lips across the bud, not staying, yet, to move up to the soft skin above. To kiss and tease the top of each hip."

By this time, I'm into it and she is too as she has a dreamy look on her face.

I continue, "I lean back and admire the view. Your eyes are closed, anticipation on your lips. Your flower is now in full bloom. Bud out of its hiding place. Lovely and pink and full of delicious nectar. I memorize the image of the glory of your beauty as I gently take each leg in my arms and begin to nuzzle softly and lick the petals. Lapping up as much nectar as possible. Gently sucking and teasing you with a tender nip at your bud. The most beautiful part of your flower."

A moan comes from her as she looks dreamily at me, seeing me but not seeing me. Seeing the story unfolding in front of her. Hand absently in her lap, not busy just resting.

"Then I moisten one, then two fingers, in your sweet slippery nectar. I insert them into your warm cavern of womanhood. I turn them upward looking for the soft folds of your secret spot."

She looks at me and purrs like the softest and cutest kitten ever and whispers, "Sugar I would love to experience the way you do things! I am so wet right now!"

Suddenly a waiter drops a tray in the kitchen, and you snap out of your arousal. You look down at your watch and exclaim, "I'm sorry, I have to be somewhere. I wish I didn't, but I do."

I am disappointed but understand.

"Promise me we can finish the story when you have time." I say hurriedly as you gather your purse as you turn to leave. You almost forgot my jacket and you hand it back with a twinkle in your eye.

"Of course!', you say, "and you can call me Willow."

I watch you turn again to leave with the same rapt admiration as I had several hours ago. I sincerely hope you mean it, "Willow". I sit thinking to myself for a moment, suddenly aware of how everything just came together into my head. Funny how things happen sometimes when you least expect it! I went to pay the check and realized we hadn't even ordered anything. Wow what a night!

[End part 1]