100 word stories,  Fiction,  microfiction

Hunger (4/100)

Though her eyes wouldn’t rise above his elbow, uncharacteristic boldness encouraged words that she’d not rehearsed, as she usually might have.

“Your suggestion?”

“The special…succulent…tender…moist…comes dressed in…creamy sauce…fingerling potatoes drizzled with…”

She bit her lip. Sharp intake of breath. Thighs pressed together. Eyes closed and rolled back.

All it took was his description. The cadence and rhythm of his words. She could drink them, imagine the taste, and then leave, still hungry, yet satiated, his voice vibrating on the back of her tongue.

She wanted to swallow him whole.

But…right now…she was on a diet.



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