“Let me be your dessert,” she asked. as I looked into her sparkling eyes, “Taste me,” and my tongue tasked between quaking and parted thighs. Smiling as my tongue probed, explored savored the taste of dessert this day. “What do I taste like”, she implored. “As always, you are my Crème Brule” So very sweet but hard, her outer shell protecting all delights that lie beneath. Breaking through, shards sharp as hell but heaven...