Strawberry Creme Brulee

I paused, panting as I tried to catch my breath. My mind was still reflecting upon the passion we had just shared when I felt Tara's hands upon my forearms. As I looked down, she pushed my wrists outward so that I collapsed upon her. She grasped my head and kissed me, our lips reuniting like old friends.

Tara terminated the brief exchange, tugging my head away from hers to look me straight in the eye. "You know," she began, "I'm pretty sure they have fires in Wyoming. That's a fucking invitation, by the way; if you still require one."

"I'm pretty sure they have lecherous bosses in Colorado," I replied. "But I don't think a goddess should have to work if she doesn't want to. That's a better invitation, by the way."

Tara exhaled a long breath through pursed lips. "I accept. Now hold me. Just hold me."

I did so. There on the couch, in one another's arms, we drifted into a blissful slumber.

* * * *

Part Five: Seventeen Hours Later

When I awoke, I could tell from the light that it was at least midday. I got up slowly, trying not to wake Tara. As I looked down to admire her form, it dawned on me that I would have found her lovely no matter her appearance. The revelation staggered me. It was all about worshipping a goddess, not scoring a cheerleader. That stupid boy had just wanted a trophy. No wonder he had missed the real prize.

Cursing my former self, I staggered into her kitchen thinking to make my beloved breakfast in bed or, in this case, breakfast in sofa. Noticing a stickiness that still covered much of my body, I opted for a shower first.

I washed in some haste, not wanting to use all of the hot water. Just as I was reaching to turn the faucet off, Tara yanked the curtain back, startling me.

"Good morning," she whispered with a wry smile, before climbing in to join me. I started to reply, but she terminated my would-be sentence with one of those deep, passionate kisses that I had already learned to covet. As our lips began to explore one another, so too did our hands. Without thinking, I moved my right palm to cup her bosom. I winced at once, terminating our kiss.

Tara pulled away, her green eyes wide. She looked down, her hand finding mine as her gaze dropped. She gasped as she turned my palm to expose the discolored and swollen area on the back near my wrist. "Oh, your hand! I didn't realize you'd broken it! Why didn't you say something?"

I smiled. "I had something more important on my mind."

Tara's spine lengthened and her chest puffed outward as she absorbed my sincere compliment. "That's sweet, but we should still get it looked at."

"Yeah, " I agreed with a nod. "I'll hit the hospital when I get back to Denver."

"Don't you mean whenwe get back to Denver?" Tara inquired with a sly wink.

"Yeah." I smiled through a chuckle. "That's exactly what I meant."

Tara returned my grin. "I thought it might be."

"So," I began, "you gonna nurse me back to health? I'll probably miss a bit of work, if I don't get arrested."

Tara giggled. "You don't need to worry about that."

"What?"

"Getting arrested."

I cocked my head. "What makes you say that?"

"Mike will never admit anyone beat him up," Tara explained. "He'll say he ran into a tree skiing or something."

"Well," I said, "that's a minor relief; but if anyone was worth getting arrested for, it'd be you."

"Thank you." Tara grinned for just a moment before she advanced her lips once more to mine. I closed my eyes as I felt her, tasted her, again. I couldn't put my finger on it, but each kiss was somehow different, better than the last. With time, I would come to understand that's how it is when you love someone with all your heart, and they feel the same way.

"So what does my goddess want for breakfast?" I asked as our lips parted.

Her eyes locked on mine, Tara reached down and grabbed my cock. "Did you have anything in mind?"

I was startled but naturally excited by her suggestiveness. "Whatever Goddess wants, of course."

"Your goddess is tired, she's taking the day off."

"Really?" I said, a little confused and a lot disappointed.

"Yes," Tara replied. "Goddess thinks a good worshipper like you deserves a servant of his own once in awhile. I'm thinking today is slave girl day? What do you think?"

Her concept was extremely corny, but even more erotic. It was also scary. I realized her quirky role-playing schemes weren't about domination. They were about communication, having the courage to point-blank tell the other person exactly what one wants. I understood how brave she had been already, twice sharing her most ardent yearnings with me.

I realized Tara expected me to now share my desires with her, to trust her with a small, but personal, portion of my psyche. It was much harder to do than I had imagined, and I offered a somewhat ambiguous reply. "I'm thinking that's nerd dick you have in your hand and you ought show it more respect."

Tara all but jumped to her knees. Grasping my shaft, she licked with a deliberate slowness along the entire length, from balls to the tip. She swirled her tongue about the crown for a handful of delicious seconds before pausing to ask, "Is that the sort of respect you had in mind, master?"

"Yes," I gasped. "Respect it more."

Tara began to devour my cock, with long, deliberate strokes. My head fell back as I savored the moment. I felt my eyes rolling back as well. I felt the warm water strike my neck and flow over my body. I felt the magical lips of the sexiest woman alive driving me inexorably toward ecstasy.

Can it get any better than this? I wondered. I briefly doubted it could, but then imagined what my goddess might have in store for me when she returned.Yes, I concluded,when you're with the right person, it can always get better.

Looking down, I ran my fingers through the pale strands of her hair, and was pleased to note a tinge of auburn among the roots. "Why did you go blonde?"

Tara freed her mouth to reply, "Guys like blonde, right?"

"Not me. I like red."

"You can have whatever color you want."

"All I want is you," I said. "I'd love you if you were bald."

"OK, master, I'll shave my head for you as soon as we are done."

I looked down at her.Surely she couldn't have taken me seriously? I shook my head, although she was again focused on her task rather than my face. "No. Slave Girl is not allowed to shave or dye her hair. And no makeup either; her face is far too pretty to cover with anything."

A broad smile graced Tara's features as she directed her gaze upward. The sight of her looking up, somehow grinning while still sucking ferociously, was too much. My hips began a slow, involuntary gyration. As if on cue, Tara picked up the pace to match. I knew there was no way I could long withstand her intense onslaught.

"You might want to stop," I ventured. "I'm getting close."

Tara again freed her mouth, but continued stroking with her hand. "Today is about whatyou want. Do you want me to stop?"

"No," I sighed. "I don't ever want you to stop."

"Good, master; that's what I want too."

In that surreal moment, it was as though the biggest truth in the universe was suddenly revealed to me. It was about the joy of giving, not the joy of sex. I am sure Tara had known it always, it is an old saying after all:'Tis better to give than to receive.

I recalled how she had first allowed me the pleasure of pleasing her so many years ago. She had rightly been devastated when I had later denied her that same happiness. I counted myself most fortunate to have a second chance with someone who, like me, was consumed by the passion of giving. And I was certain neither of us would ever deny the other that pleasure again.

* * * *

Part Six: Epilogue

Although it was certainly one of her favorite activities, Goddess didn't ride her worshipper's face every night. Sometimes she just wanted a good straight fuck before she slept. Sometimes she wanted her feet rubbed, with lotion, all evening. Sometimes she woke her worshipper at 3 AM and sent him into the night to find a pint of Haagen-Dazs ice cream; most often her favorite, Strawberry Creme Brulee.

Slave girl didn't spend all of her time on her knees in the shower either. Sometimes she went on long hikes in the mountains with her master. Sometimes she simply fixed him a nice dinner. Sometimes they watched Monday Night Football together.

It was never really important so much what either of them wanted. What mattered was that what one wanted, the other delivered, without fail, without question, without reservation. It never gets any better than that.