The fenneled bourbon bisque was smoothly swallowed. The sorrel caviar came next; the imploding pop on her taste buds had her squirming. 

With the arrival of the deliciously scented blackened saffron trout, the buzzing in her undies began in earnest. She caught her breath and clasped her lover’s hand, “Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Not what, love?”

“You know, stop teasing.”

The buzzing was relentless, the flicks of her clit uncontrollable. She looked into her lover’s eyes as she grabbed the table; her head flipped back, mouth open, moaning louder and louder.

”For fuck’s sake, it’s you. You’re sitting on the remote!”