RE: Soup Porn
Her tomato had ripened. It was ready for the soup. I salivated at the sight and drooled at the thought. I imagined the first slit of the knife into the deeply reddened flesh. It was hard, hard for me to concentrate. She thrust her ripened tomato towards me and I quickly plucked it. The knife did make the slit. The juices oozed, again, and again, until the tomato was ready for the soup. She picked another one and thus, Tomato Bisque 101 continued at culinary school.