DISCLAIMER: I only borrowed them for a while. MGM and whoever can have them back whenever they want.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
DEDICATED: to my muse and my love.

Interlude 9:
Cherry

By Celievamp

The first time I saw her do it we were in a bar. It was our first weekend away together, a sort of ‘are we doing this or not’ transition between foolin’ around and having a serious bona fide relationship.

We’d spent the day sightseeing and windowshopping. I realised that it had been far far too long since I had had this kind of day, no pressure, no deadline, just spending time with a beautiful intelligent and witty woman who I was fast coming to realise that I loved with an intensity that kind of scared me.

But in a good way.

Anyway, so we dumped our purchases back in the hotel room and went across the street to a restaurant we had noted earlier. We found a quiet spot at the far end of the bar and ordered our drinks. Frozen Rum Runners to start with. The possibility of Marguerita’s later.

I was nervous so I was babbling on about something, anything. While my mouth ran away with me I watched Janet pick up her maraschino cherry by its stalk and swirl it in her drink for a moment before lifting it to her mouth. Her tongue extended, sucked the cherry into her mouth. All of it, stalk and all.

The flow of words dried up for a moment, before I started again. I couldn’t tell you for love nor money what the hell I was talking about. Something about power coefficients on my latest reactor design I think. Or maybe Teal’c’s latest hat. Something that meant less than nothing compared to what I was watching.

Her steady gaze never wavered, her dark eyes burning into mine. Goddess, but she was beautiful. All I could think was that I must have been bloody good in a former life to deserve this, to deserve her. And what was such a beautiful woman doing with a lanky geek like me?

A few moments later her lips parted, the tip of her tongue extended exposing one cherry stalk, neatly tied into a knot. A heart shaped knot at that.

I stammered to a halt. “How…” My mental gears crashed as I tried to work out how the hell she had done that with her tongue, her teeth, her mouth. I had heard of it but never seen it done. I had a good grasp of spatial geometry but working out the interplay between teeth and tongue to tie that perfect knot exercised my mind in ways… I took a large gulp of my own drink. Brain freeze melted away in the feverish imaginings of what else that obviously immensely talented tongue could be doing. To me. I closed my eyes, took a deep shaky breath. Goddess.

Janet smirked. I realised that I was still staring at her mouth and that I had been silent for rather a long time. “Want another demonstration?” she asked, picking up my cherry from where I had laid it aside on the napkin.

I nodded. She swirled the cherry in her drink again and went through the same process. I watched her mouth intently, my hand resting on her thigh, fingers gently scribing across her hot skin. Quicker than I would have thought possible she had done it. She leant over, pressed her lips to mine and passed the cherry stalk into my mouth.

A perfect knot. I ran my tongue over its surface unable to contemplate how she had done it. It must be a genetic thing – or maybe a matter of careful training. I had a moment’s jealousy as to who might have taught my girl such a thing. And the heat ran through me. My girl. When had that happened?

I took the knotted stalk from my mouth, laid it on the napkin next to the first example. She regarded them critically for a moment then looked at me in confusion as I carefully folded the napkin into a pocket around them to keep them secure before stowing them in the inside pocket of my jacket for safe keeping. Resting next to my heart.

The End

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