“What are you cooking?” Travis asked. A little bit of the teasing left his voice as if he was seriously interested in her answer.
She decided to keep teasing him. “Pancakes,” she lied.
“Yes, some stranger sent me a bottle of honey in a plain brown package. A bottle of honey—can you imagine that? No note—just the bottle—as if I’d know what it was for and who it’s from.”
“And have you figured out what it’s for?” Travis asked.
Liz knew that he knew she was teasing him. It was a good thing he liked to play as much as she did. “Oh, pancakes, of course, isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me,” Travis said. “Why don’t you tell me how you figured that out?”
Liz sprinkled the carrots shavings over the top of her salad. It wasn’t much as these things went, but it was better than simply eating a microwave lasagna. “Well what else can you eat with honey?” she asked.
“Hmmm,” Travis thought. “That’s a good question. Tea is the first thing that comes to mind, but I’m pretty sure there are others. I’ll have to think about it. I’ll let you know if I come up with any good alternatives when I get down there Friday night.”
Liz felt a little thrill of anticipation at the thought of Travis coming down and showing her what he wanted to do with this bottle. “You do that,” she told him.
“And you can tell me,” Travis said, “if you think of anything else to try it on tonight…”
Liz’s heart skipped a beat as his voice trailed off. She hadn’t really thought of trying it herself. She’d been intending to wait for Travis. She hadn’t considered that a little honey tonight might be considered foreplay for his visit.
“Why don’t you taste it now,” Travis suggested.
“I don’t…” Liz started before letting her voice trail off.
She tried again wondering why it was suddenly so hard to speak. “I don’t really like sweet,” she said.
“Honey isn’t just sweet,” Travis insisted. “Open it up. Try a little on your finger.”
Hesitantly, Liz did as she was told. She pulled off the cap but the honey wouldn’t come out of the bear, so she took off the lid and found a silver-colored seal across the mouth of the bottle. She pulled this off and quickly restored the lid. Then she squeezed a tiny drop on to the ball of her finger.
“I’d like to see,” Travis whispered, “what a drop of honey looks like rolling down your sweet brown flesh.”
That was exactly what Liz was looking at. The slightly translucent liquid glistened on her finger and slid sideways toward the floor. The coating it left behind was almost invisible until she turned her finger and caught the light.
“I wish I was there right now, Liz!” Travis said. He wasn’t teasing any more. His voice had grown hoarse with need—barely louder than a whisper so that she had to strain to hear him over the phone. “I don’t want to wait until Friday. I want to take you in my arms, ease you down on to your back, slowly unbutton your blouse, then take that bottle in my hand like a stylus and…”
His voice trailed off leaving Liz’s imagination grasping at what he’d intended to say.
She couldn’t believe how turned on she was. They’d had a lot of phone sex over the past two weeks. Travis was really good at it—but none of it had stirred her inner fires as quickly as those last couple of sentences had. And what was doing it? Honey? She didn’t even like the stuff—did she?
She stuck her sticky finger into her mouth and closed her eyes as the sweet flavor penetrated her taste buds. She hadn’t been lying when she said she didn’t like sweet, but after hearing Travis talk about it she discovered she absolutely loved tasting this.
She could hear Travis breathing through the phone. He wasn’t panting like some perverse stalker, but she could hear him just the same as if he was trying to calm himself down and couldn’t quite manage to do it.
She decided to encourage his sense of excitement. “You said you took the bottle like a stylus, Travis,” she reminded him. “What are you going to write on me?”
Travis didn’t answer her directly. “I’ll tell you what I want you to do tonight,” he said. His low voice continued to titillate her senses. She could feel the heat building between her legs even as her nipples began to press against her bra. She imagined coating her finger with honey again and slipping it into her panties to touch herself.
“I want you to think about all the things I could do to you with that bottle of honey in your hand,” Travis told her.
Images flashed before Liz’s eyes. Travis dripping the dark amber liquid onto her lips, her breasts, down her stomach and between her thighs. His lips kissed her sweetened flesh, sucking gently on her sensitive skin. His tongue tickled her crevices, cleaning out the stickiness while his cheeks contradictorily spread the mess wider upon her thighs.
“And then tomorrow,” Travis told her, “when I call you, I want you to tell me which fantasies you liked the best—which ones you wanted to try and which one you were so bad tonight you couldn’t help getting a head start on.”