The velvety air hung heavy on her bare shoulders, the stiffest of breezes begrudgingly caressing them on unseasonably warm evening. Clouds hanging low, obscuring any natural light coming from Lady Luna. The night was one meant for passion. She could taste the lust on her lips, it was so palpable. Hunger drives her. Hunger for something soft and delicate, yet substantial enough fill her completely and satisfy the longing inside of her.
A small taco shop sits on the corner. Bright green letters against black shout its name to the entire block. It’s sandwich between one of those 24 hour breakfast places with mediocre coffee and amazing hash browns and one of the many strip clubs in the area, complete with worn out neon sign. She pulls up to the drive thru with confidence. Too often, she over thinks or is too timid to say exactly what she wants. Not tonight. The warm air on her skin has ignited something inside her and she knows exactly what she wants inside her tonight.
“Can I get one shrimp burrito and a small horchata, please?” She pulls up to the window, looking on in anticipation as the lady on the other side goes about her business. Gracefully, skillfully she grabs a small handful of napkins and places them in the bag before pivoting on her heel to catch my drink right before it starts to overflow. Static in the air creates a small spark of electricity between them as their hands softly touch each other for a brief moment. A shiver runs down her spine, but then at last the horchata is completely in her hands.
A first, small sip dances on her tongue, unleashing the sweet flavors of rice and cinnamon. Pulling the straw back from her slightly parted lips, she swallows in satisfaction, undeniably content with this particular moment in her life. She takes one more delicious, sultry sip, and then forces herself to wait. Something about being denied makes the anticipation that much sweeter for her.
Glancing up, she sees her burrito making its way to her from the window. Carefully, she takes the bag and sets it on the seat next to her, eyeing her prize like a spider does a fly. “Let’s get somewhere a bit more cozy, huh?” Her hunger and desire grow stronger with every block she passes until she can’t stand it anymore. Pulling into the parking lot of a shady hotel, she pulls back a small corner of the wrapper and nibbles a small piece of fresh, warm tortilla. Her salivary glands jump into a frenzy as she relishes the first bite, and readies for the next one. Slowly, seductively, she pulls back a little more of the wrapper, the weight of her prize solid in her other hand. Her is mouth slightly parted with tongue peeking out, ready for another taste. Teasing herself, she laps up the overflowing salsa threatening to spill over onto her white tank top. Once again, she closes her eyes in simple satisfaction, letting the full flavor of the unique, creamy tomato salsa to permeate her tastebuds. With each bite, a wave of pleasure rides over her. The taste of the shrimp and rice on her tongue, dancing a dance of lovers and passion in the warm, velvety space.
A bittersweet moment, when she comes to that final bite. Swallowing the last sip of horchata, she takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh of contentment.