by Joe Amon

Joe Amon 2000


One more damned Friday‚ thought Kumquat as she walked through her apartment door. Another Friday of sitting around with the other fruit in the produce market. Another Friday of being handled, squeezed, smelled and then put back without so much as a please or thank-you. It was days like this that she wished she was part of a wax centrepiece.

"I'm home." She heard a muffled reply from in front of the TV. There sat Smokie, flipping through the channels. She gave him an appraising glance from the hallway as she took off her shoes and jacket. He was limp and soggy: his usual state after a long day at the grill. He didn’t look much good for anything. Kumquat knew better, though. She'd seen him at his best, and felt him at his hardest. She stood there a moment, enjoying the memory, before she walked up beside him.

"How was your day?" Smokie asked the question half-heartedly. The hour after he got home from work was the only time Kumquat had ever seen a meat by-product become a vegetable. Any other day, she wouldn‚t mind. Today was special, though. Date night. he'd promised her a full evening of attention. He was keeping that promise.

"Lousy. Grapefruit keeps trying to get the best spots, just because she’s twice the size of everyone else. And the carrots are looking at me funny again."

"They just can’t stop looking at the melons," joked Smokie. Kumquat felt her bad mood draining away as she laughed. He did that for her; it was one of his many talents. 

"Or maybe they want to get inside my rind," she quipped back. Smokie smiled and reached over to stroke her hand.

"Can’t blame them." Even though he was joking, she saw a sizzle in his eyes. And she knew he'd been waiting for this night too. She leaned over and planted her lips over his, making the quiet humming noises he liked. When he opened his lips to explore with his tongue, she pulled away. 

"Hmmm, I'm going to take a shower. I hate that stuff they spray us with at work." 

"I’ll start dinner in an hour, okay?"

"Sounds great. I bought a few things on the way home, and I want to try them on." Kumquat walked toward the bathroom, giving one backward glance. Smokie was turned away from the TV, watching her as she walked away. She smiled back, and gave her hips an extra wiggle as she walked.

This was going to be so good.

"That was delicious, meat man." 

"You haven’t called me that in awhile," said Smokie as he licked a few flecks of Tofu roast off his fingers. The movement was sensual, a promise of other things that tongue could do. He couldn’t help it. The whole atmosphere was charged with the anticipation of what they both knew was coming. The simplest gesture seemed to be an invitation; conversation was becoming a prelude to future acts. It was enough to make his head spin. 

Kumquat blushed a little, accenting her normal dark yellow colouring. "I still can’t believe you let me call you that."

"It seems to suit me," he replied. 

Smokie settled back in his chair and again looked over the luscious fruit he shared his life with. She'd bought something new, alright. A dark brown nightgown that clung to every bump and curve on her skin, decorated with strategically placed stickers that said "B.C. Grown". It made him think of dark, seedy grocery stores where a meat product could satisfy his fruit cravings without guilt, without names, without regrets. He felt warm arousal spread all through him.

"So, do you want some dessert?"

"Hmm, not really, no."

"Okay. Coffee? Some more salad? Or should we just proceed to fucking on the kitchen floor?" 

Kumquat laughed. "Oh, the floor, definitely the floor." Smokie took that as an invitation. He stood up from the table and took her hands. She stood up with him and, after giving him a look that made his sausage jump, they kissed.

Tender, loving, curious, probing, giving, taking, fiery, charged, arousing, unrestrained, reflective, calming, teasing, playful, joyful, gentle.

They broke the contact, both panting. Kumquat smiled. "Did you think I was going to say no?" She ran her fingers over the proud 100% meat sticker in his chest. 

"I never know with you." He ran his hand up her side until it met one of the white stickers over her breasts. "You might say no just to see what I'd do, Kummie."

"Hmmm, another nickname from the distant past." She tugged on the red tag behind her lover‚s sticker, opening the golden package around him.

"Hey, it hasn’t been that long." Smokie smiled as he saw her laugh. Then he moved closer, zeroing in on her laughing mouth. He brushed her lips with his, making brief contact, and then moved lower. He blew on the soft downy hairs on her neck before wetting the area with his tongue. Then he blew again, and felt her shudder next to him.

"Keep doing that, and we won’t make it to the bedroom."

"Who needs the bedroom?" Smokie chose another area to tease: the small area of shoulder that was revealed through the ethereal brown material. Kummie moaned as he nipped her sensitive skin. 

"You mean you want to do it out here?"

Smokie stopped his oral operations, but kept his hands busy on her back. He looked into her beautiful face. "You’re the one who said she wanted the kitchen floor."

She gave him the grin that always made his insides sizzle. "Sounds like fun, but you know my skin. This floor would give me bruises from now till next week."

He smiled, kissed her softly, and then moved away. She wondered what he was up to, but didn‚t move. She heard him open the closet in the hallway, and then saw him come back with a large, rolled up floor mat. 

"Your exercise mat?"

He nodded, and put it down on the floor. "I wanted you to be comfortable."

"Oh, so you planned this?" She put her arms around his neck, enjoying the strong, meaty smell he was giving off. 

"Let's just say I was hoping."
They kissed again, and Smokie felt Kumquat press close against him. He slipped the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder, drawing it down slowly over her ripe right breast. The nipple was already stiff, red as a fresh cherry. He touched his tongue to the tip, wiggling it back and forth to test Kummie's reaction. She purred.

"Hmmm. I want to see you naked, Meat man."

"Sounds like fun," he replied.

Here she was, standing in their kitchen, one breast exposed, and one horny hot dog in front of her. What else was a fruit to do? She undid the snap at his waist, opening the gold foil like it was gift-wrap. She had to work it over his obstruction in front, but the suit quickly hit the floor. His salami stood erect and waiting. She took it in her hand, wrapping her fingers around and enjoying the sensation. Then she flicked out her tongue and touched the tip.

He was already leaking his juice through the tip, juice that tasted of spices and sweat. She wiggled her member back and forth against his, teasing him as he'd teased her. "Kummie," he moaned. She smiled, but kept up her teasing, even as he gently took her head and pushed her toward him. "Please Kummie. Eat me."

"Hmmm, no additives and no preservatives," she joked, and then took just the first bit of his wiener in her mouth. She worked her tongue again: teasing, pleasing, thrilling. Slowly she worked more and more of him into her mouth, swallowing more and more of his delectable sausage. Then, once she had as much of him in her mouth as she could, she started to hum. Smokie's moan, followed by stunned silence, seemed to indicate he liked it. She smiled, and then slowly unsuckled his member. 

"Lie down, meat man. Lie down and get comfortable." He smiled and did as he was asked. For a moment she looked down at him, and then stepped over and settled herself just above his abdomen. She felt his hard wiener pressing up against her as she leaned back. She must have been a hell of a sight, straddling him, dressed in material so obviously designed to arouse interest, one breast exposed. "So what do you want to do now?"

He smiled and pulled her forward. They kissed again, unrestrained, passionate. Kummie felt his hands pulling down the other strap of her gown, so that it fell bunched around her waist. She leaned out of the kiss, adjusting her seat so that he could push himself up to a sitting position. And he did. And she could feel the sensitive nubs of her nipples tingle as he moved his mouth toward them. Closer, closer, and she sighed when he touched one with his lips.

He alternated between the gentle sucking of a peach and the tonguing given to the tip of a banana. She felt herself floating like a new seed as he gave her ripe cherries his complete attention. "You know, I've always loved that tongue of yours."

"You should see what I can do with my hands."

Kummie laughed, even when she felt Smokie's hands start to gently kneed her firm cantaloupe ass. Then he slid his fingers between them, searching for her centre. She smiled, and then gently pushed her meaty lover away. She had one more surprise for him. "I have somewhere else I'd like you to taste, Smokie."

She felt his eyes watching her as she stripped off the nightgown and lay on her side, spreading her legs just slightly. Smokie got the message and scooted his face close to her thighs. And he saw that the area around her seed pod was smooth, with none of the usual soft fuzz that usually grew there.

"Kummie, you shaved?"

She chuckled. "Do you like it? I've always wanted to try."

"It looks delicious," he said, and Kummie felt him press his face into her.

Smokie was hooked the first time he'd tasted Kummie's sweet juices. Sweet and subtle but strong. Distilled Kummie. And when he saw her bare seed pod, he wanted to taste all of her. He tongued every inch of her pod, tasting her passion juice and making her moan. She started to take him in her mouth again, and those sensations were a pleasant distraction. But he refused to ignore the job at hand.

He could feel his rational thought process slipping away. Her mouth around him, her pod so close and needing his attention, the lack of oxygen: it was all making him giddy. His mind narrowed down to her pleasure, her moans, her whispering his name. His mouth worked all her secret places, leaving trails of her juice down his chin as he brought her higher and higher.

"Ummm, eat my mango, baby. Lick my seed, oh yes. Keep drinking. Right right RIGHT!"

His thirst was quenched as he felt a gush come from deep inside her. He tried to lick and suck as fast as it came, but the pulp was too thick. So instead, he slowed down and savoured the flavour as it burst over his tongue. Slowly, as he drank, more awareness came back to him. He noticed Kummie had stopped sucking him, probably awhile ago. He also got the full effect of her scent, which made his sausage plump instantly. 

"Hmmm, passion fruit," he said, licking some of the remnants off her thighs. She laughed. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Smokie felt a slight tingle as she ran one finger around the head of his wiener. He looked down and saw an exaggerated pout on her face. "I suppose you think it's my turn."

"Well you know what they say. A hard meat is good to find."

They both laughed together, enjoying the moment and the intimacy. Then she pushed herself up, so that she was looking down at him. "You know what I would like right now?" Smokie shook his head no, wondering what she was coming up with next. 

As she spoke, Kummie slowly moved one leg over him. "I would like" She settled herself over his wiener. "For you" She barely touched the head of him with the lips of her seed pod. "To marinate me with that beautiful thing. Give me your foot-long, baby."

He thrust his hips up, pushing himself into her. They stayed that way, arched, for one perfect moment, and then they both settled back to more earthly delights. He pushed her, gently, and they rolled over together. He started slowly, enjoying every inch of the experience. And then she started to whisper in his ear.

"Give me that hot dog, baby. I need that hot dog. Fill me with your sausage, Meat man. Do it."

He felt his self-control slip a notch toward animal lust, and started to thrust. "Like that? God, you are so juicy. I'm slipping around inside you. Oh yeah."

Kummie eyes closed, but she kept talking. "Peel your banana for me, Smokie. Give it to me. That's right. Ooooo yeah."

He never felt it slip. One second, he was happily dipping his sausage in the hottest batter box he'd ever felt. The next, he was pounding for all he was worth. And she was right there with him, grabbing his ass, scratching his back, moaning and crying out his name. He could only grunt in response as she urged him on, wrapping her legs around him and arching under him with every thrust.

"Spray me with mustard. Give me your special sauce, Meatie."

All that came from Smokie was a cry as he felt his wiener pulse and he slammed face-first into a hell of a powerful climax. He could feel every inch of his body tense and release in time with his juices being squirted into Kummie's sweet seed pod. He hung, suspended like a feather for a few brief seconds. And then he fell like a misflipped hamburger, and landed squarely beside the fruit he loved.

Kumquat watched as her meat man came back down from the high of a wonderful orgasm. The expression of bliss on his face made her want to laugh out loud. But she just giggled as she held him tight. He slipped out of her as his sausage softened to a meatball, and then rolled over beside her on the floor. He looked deep into her eyes, and they both knew. They knew that what they’d shared had been special, had been spectacular for both of them. Smokie, always the poet, was the first one to put it into words.

"Now that was a food fuck."

Joe Amon 2000


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