Saturday at the warehouse grocery store, we bought this huge crate of strawberries, it weighs about 5 pounds. Thats a lot of berry. I like them several ways, with sugar, or with chocolate, or by themselves. When I just eat plain berries, I wash a handful and put them in some paper towel and sit down, whether outside or sitting with people. I rip the little green frilly bits off and them shove my finger down the middle, splitting it up into pulpy slivers - thats right, I rip up the strawberry and eat it in juicy little ripped up sections.
Sunday night as I was laying in my bed, watching Cary Grant fall in love with yet another silverscreen goddess, I was brutalizing yet another handful of strawberries. After a day of sunbathing, I was still in my bikini and lounging on the couch. I began thinking about how I taste, me, myself and I. I was reminded by the strawberries, the tartness and the sweetness, the slickness of the pulpy fruit. Some juice fell onto my chest and as I lifted my hand to wipe it with a fingertip and lick it off, I happened upon an idea.
I squished a strawberry inbetween my fingers and let the juice make my fingers wet and sticky. I then slid my hand down my chest, down my tummy to my bikini bottoms and with a skillful hand, slipped my juicy hand down to my kitten. I could feel the juice from the berry on my folds, it made me so slick and yearning. I fanatasized about the last time someone with divine skill gave my kitten that deep and fire ending kiss. My fingers gently rubbed over my strawberry flavored clit, the juice mingling now with my kitten's wetness. My back arched and I giggled, the first tell-tale waves of heat pressing me, my fingertip making tiny circles on my now swollen clit.
In a heated, impulsive moment, I pulled my hand up from my bikini bottoms, softly smelling my fingertips. My scent mixed with the sweet juice from the red fruit, it seemed the perfect scent, soft, sweet and yet so much like a pheramone. I rubbed my warm fingertips against my lip, letting my taste, my now ever more sweetened taste slip over my tongue.
I whimpered as I reched down with my left hand, my fingers still in my mouth and began once more to rub my clit. My tongue snaked over my fingers, tasting myself as my body rose to orgasm. I bit down on my fingers as I came, the taste of my femininity overwhelming me as my senses heightened with a mind pumping orgasm. I whimpered behind my lips, my back arched and my breath coming quick. As I settled and eased my fingers from between my teeth, my lips, I whimpered, lying still against the cushions of the couch.
I smiled as I smelled the strawberry + kitten scent from my lips, such a wicked moment. I licked my lips and giggled at myself, I am most definatly my favorite lover. Times where I just lose myself in my own fantasies, fantasies about my own body, my own scent and curves - that's when I am most lost to the world. My body, my mind and my hands, they all love one another very much.
My eyes flicked back to the screen, Cary Grant in a military uniform and staring off a train at his love. He's going away to fight a war. He's leaving you, Betty Grable. You better find some strawberries....and quick....you might want to entice him to stay with you and taste your sweet fruit.