Ellen J. Macafee

The Peach By: Ellen Macafee @cuddleprinciple

They sat across the small table, eyes locked, tension building. She picked up the peach. It was soft, plump, ripe, ready to be eaten. She inhaled deeply. The smell was intoxicating. She slowly licked the fuzzy crease from bottom to top.

He gulped. She winked as she bit deep, juice dripping down her chin. He quickly reached out and snagged a single drop. He brought it to his lips and stared deeply into her eyes. He extended his tongue, made a funny sort of face, and sneezed. Spittle and juice covered her face.

“Typical,” she said as she stood and walked away, wiping her face on her sleeve.

The Drip By: Ellen Macafee @cuddleprinciple

She sat on the sidewalk, elbows resting on her propped-up knees. The day was hot, even in her bikini top and cut-off shorts. In her left hand, a double scoop ice cream cone. She licked fervently, but it wasn’t enough. The first creamy trickle slid down her hand, she stopped and licked it clean.

The next made it a bit farther, to her wrist. She twisted her hand and licked the stray cream. She looked up as she licked and saw him, stopped mid-step, across the street. He stared, mouth open, awestruck. She licked, he gulped. Another trickle began, he watched it run down her hand and past her wrist. They locked eyes as she licked the creamy white line.

He turned and began to walk away. He stopped and looked back, hoping for one last look. A trickle was slowly heading down her hand, past her wrist. She smiled but didn’t move. The cream traveled down her hand and to her elbow, it was a stark contrast to her chocolate skin. It crossed the gap to her knee and headed down her calf to her toe. The man blinked.

She moved the cone to her right hand. The stream began to flow, this time, it crossed her hand, wrist, and arm quickly. When it jumped the gap, she moved her leg slightly and the creamy stream began its journey down her inner thigh. The man’s eyes widened.

Slowly, it crept towards the hem of her ripped short shorts. When the trail was moments from reaching its destination, she stretched her long legs out and crossed her ankles.

The man looked from her shorts to her eyes, a broken-hearted sadness in his gaze.


The Only Way to Eat a Cinnamon Roll

For Dickie by Ellen Macafee

She ordered her usual. A large cinnamon roll, dripping with icing and an extra tub of icing. She sat in a noticeable spot in the food court, though she didn’t look around.

She took the tub of icing and with a loud moan, opened the lid. Her tongue swirled around the remains on the cover. A look of ecstasy on her face. She placed the lid carefully on the table. With one finger, she swirled the icing, around and around. She plunged a finger into the center and gasped. Several people looked at her, she didn’t notice. Methodically, slowly, she fingered the icing. First one finger, then two. In and out, she worked it. She let out a sigh and lifted two iced fingers from the tub.

The translucent icing dripped from her fingers. She placed them to her lips and began to slowly lick the frosting. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she thrust both fingers into her mouth, almost gagging in the process. A devilish smile crossed her lips as she withdrew her fingers.

Her focus shifted to the cinnamon roll. Steam still rising from the fresh-from-the-oven baked good. She bent down and inhaled deeply. She crossed her legs and shifted her weight. She took her finger and traced the center of the roll, teasing, and taunting the edges. Her breath was quick little gasps. She stuck in one finger, then two and moaned. With a wicked grin, she pulled slowly, deliberately and the center of the roll popped out.

The man couldn’t quit looking. His fork had made it halfway to his mouth before he saw her. He’d had to shift in his chair more than once, as he watched her plunge her fingers into to gooey icing. When she lifted the translucent colored liquid from the container and thrust it into her mouth, he had to choke back a gasp.

She took the center of the roll and plunged it into the liquid icing. She plunged and plunged and the man swore he could hear a slurping, smacking noise. Her entire body was moving. She was rocking forward and back, faster and faster. She bit her lip and groaned. She carefully turned the center of the roll upside down and let the icing drip into the tub. When little more than a drop remained, she brought the center to her lips. With her tongue, she flicked the remaining drops onto her lips and savored them.

She dipped the tip into the icing, slowly brought it to her lips, smiled a wicked little grin, and bit it off. The man spewed his drink across the table and doubled over in pain.