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as he poured them each a glass of wine.
     
    Even though her experience was limited, she read. A lot. Erotic novels at night that she read from her tablet notebook. It was one of the only indulgences she carried over from her former life as an obese woman. Everything else she had to give up in her quest to become healthy. She thought of the ways he could have her for his dessert. If only she wasn't such a wimp, Jennifer thought. She could dance, use the moves she'd learned from the stripping classes. Dance for him, make him hungry for her. She ate sparingly, taking a bite here and there, with unusually erotic thoughts between mouthfuls. Riordan had given her a much too large portion of the chicken Marsala, and she only ate a bit before she grew too full to have more. Looking at him only made her lust worse, so she paid too much attention to her plate and the diet breaking calories on it. She stopped estimating the count at seven hundred. And that was just the Marsala.
     

 
    Riordan: Beneath the Skin
     
    When Jennifer opened the door and stared at him it made Riordan glad she found his clothing change to her liking. He found hers to be effortlessly gorgeous and he was grateful they were alone. Especially, since he couldn't fathom the vision of her thick luscious behind and thighs visible to other men. Not yet at least. The pants fit like a second skin, and were just darker than the shade of her flesh. The colors were close enough in hue that he fantasized about her in the feminine lace-trimmed top only, offering herself to him. Open to his lusts and desires. After he shook his head to clear his thoughts, he presented her with the nearly forgotten bouquet in his hand.
     
    Riordan followed her inside the kitchen space, eyes lingering on her curves, going on forever. He could see the thick curve of her ass so well that the denim along his fly bit at his cock. He thought that it seemed as if his penchant for going without underwear bit him in the ass almost literally. All he wanted to touch her and make love with her. It was just crazy how quickly she had gotten under his skin. He watched her, even while he busied himself assisting. He put the wine on to chill, washed the occasional dish or utensil after she was done with it. He wasn't much of a cook and most meals he prepared only required heating or grilling. He could do that much but little else.
     
    Riordan pulled out a chair and assisted his date before himself. He just wanted to savor each moment of the night. No other woman had ever gotten this reaction from him, made him fall so hard into lust.   She had him ensnared so well that that he didn't think could sate his curiosity for her ever. He wanted to see what her pussy tasted like, as he cradled her sexy behind with his hands. He ate, and while the meal was wonderful, he tasted none of the spice he saw her carefully use to season the food. He only saw her and his burning throat was parched with the need to drink her down. Taste her, his mind screamed at him. The only consolation was he had a close-up and personal view of her, even though it only served to fuel more fantasies of them splayed together in his too large bed.
     
    Riordan thought to himself that it had been awhile since he had a home cooked meal. If the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, then Jennifer prepared a meal good enough to hop onto I-95. This was definitely the best date he’d had in memory.
     
    The meal was finished sooner than anticipated mostly due to the affable companionship that sprang from their natural and mutual attraction. The pair felt the chemistry between them so powerfully, it almost seemed a separate entity dined with them. After they had eaten, Riordan knew his lust for Jennifer had grown out of proportion. Her dry wit was refreshing and she was intelligent. He knew that if things continued on the path they were headed, he would have her lips for dessert. The only question was when he would have the rest of