You come back after 45 minutes and you pull the plate out and savour the sweet lemony aroma. Carol looks at you in severe discomfort," Sorry." You reply," I like my meals done rare!" She tries to struggle but stops due to the pain. She looks absolutely gorgeous. The glazing has turned her an indulgent brown, like the cliche clolour of a turkey ion American thanksgiving specails. You pluck her out of the dish and out of the sizling lemon and vinegar sauce by her ears and you place her on a dish, untying her bonds. She looks at you with a defeated look, to tired to do anything. You lick her sweet face and take a bite out of the apple in her mouth, pulling it out. She begins to sob, again. You simply lick her face and proceed to engulf her head, rather quickly. She is warm, tender and sweet. The lemon giving a brilliant sour tint to her flavour. You suck her head down quickly to get to better areas. The pineapple slices drop of her breasts as you lift her up sucking past her neck and shoulders, pinning her arms to her side. Her small breasts pass into your mouth effortlessly, you lick around the nipples relishing the sweet taste before moving past her firm flat stomach.
You eventually reach her vagina, your tongue begins to lap at it. You had glazed rather liberally in this area and you were going to enjoy the flavour, eventhough Carol, as evidenced by her now thrashing legs didn't seem to approve. After you were satsifed you stuffed her waist and well tone ass down your mouth greedily as you went for what you imagined to be the best bit. Those thick meaty thighs. The flavour, as you had prepared it, was still glorious and her texture was transcendant. The meat was very supple, like a sponge and it was silky aswell. It passed into your throat like a dream. You move your head up to let gravity help you past her thighs and feet. They were good, but nothing compared to her thighs, you gulp them down quickly so the thighs remain the last thing on your mind.
You sit back on you chair contentedly, stroking your engorged belly and letting out a burp. You hear a sobbing come from your belly as your meal is digested alive. You pat your stomach and reassure who," You were a fantastic meal. You should be proud!" Carol, is not, but all she can do is whimper and bawl into she eventually loses consciousness.
