The Catalyst

A Writing Teacher Writes (plus some writing prompts and recipes)

Delectable February 7, 2014

Filed under: Vignettes,Writing Prompts + — Christopher P. DeLorenzo @ 2:12 pm

This time the prompts were ice cream parlor menus. A few of those links are here: Jaxson’s   Blue Bunny  Dumser’s

Read over the menus and see what comes up. For me, many of the descriptions sounded sexy. What I wrote is below.


Will you think me crude, dear reader, if I tell you he sent me a photo of his bubble butt—two round mounds of butterscotch flesh—and I wanted to take a bite? Will you accuse us both of avoiding intimacy, of objectifying one another, welcoming special requests by the ladleful?

Because this is cyber flirting at its best, and gay decorum at its worst: an app that allows you to hold naked men in the palm of your hand while your fingers do the talking.

I’m so used to it that I’d be shocked if you found it shocking, if Rogelio’s delectable bits or giant banana made you gasp when I made a mistake while scrolling through my photos of the pyramid of pink apples at the farmer’s market and accidentally put the buttery beauty of his exposed skin so close to your face.

I’m sorry. I really am.

What am I to do with this hungry animal I’ve become in my 40’s? The same age my ex was when he said, “Now that I’m older, I just don’t care so much about sex anymore, you know? You know?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t.”

Because I still want to have Rogelio over for  a glass of wine and skip dinner. I want to come out of the bathroom and find him naked on my bed, stomach down, two slices of golden pound cake, a split banana, a candyman’s dream, waiting for me, for more, for more of me.

I want to kiss and entangle our arms and legs; I want to melt into a puddle of fudge, breaking into streams along the contours of his chest, his stomach, his hips, his thighs. I want to ask him to stay the night, not only for the fumbling, clumsy, eyes closed, non-orgasmic am I awake? middle of the night sex. Yes, that, but I also want the too warm, roll over, blankets flung off, twilight waking to pee and stumble back to the soft, firm, nakedness of him.

Of him. The not alone tonight of him, the wake up crusty, hair like a rooster, shall we go at it or go out for coffee this morning, not lonely this time, hopeful happiness of him.

It’s not a lot to ask, is it? To go from flirtation app to flesh? It’s not a lot to ask.


3 Responses to “Delectable”

  1. Carmen Says:

    so creatively organic

  2. Daniel Raskin Says:

    No it is not a lot to ask. Thank you, Daniel

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