Salad Fingers Novels & Stories

Deep red. On my side, they placed pan-seared Dover sole with lemon butter sauce. Roasted fingerling potatoes with herbs. A small arugula salad with shaved parmesan. “Thank you, Lydia,” he said, smiling politely at her. “You’re always welcome, sir.” Her hand touched his as I watched. Her fingers lingered, caressing. “I’m always at your service, sir. For whatever service you require.” The tips of her fingers brushed his shoulder, tracing the fabric of his jacket.

There were sides of roasted fingerling potatoes drizzled with olive oil and sea salt, a bright green salad with mango and avocado, and warm crusty bread that we tore apart with our hands. A bottle of chilled white wine sat sweating in an ice bucket, condensation running down the glass like slow tears. Soft bossa nova played from the speakers, gentle guitar and quiet vocals floating through the open windows where the ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and night-blooming flowers. Maverick sat across from me, dressed casually in a loose white linen shirt with the top two buttons undone and sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark shorts that showed off his tanned legs.

he replied casually to Callista, his fingers pressing my ankle slowly, sending shivers up my leg. I nearly dropped my fork. The constant touch of his fingers shattered my concentration. Every subtle movement was a dangerous game, making it difficult to breathe, let alone act casual in front of Callista. "Spicy?" Callista frowned even deeper, clearly confused. "But we're eating grilled salmon and salad. There's nothing spicy here." Kaelos shrugged while his fingers moved up slightly, grazing the bone of my ankle in a way that made me bite my lip to keep from reacting. The bastard was enjoying this.

I could only try to control my breathing and bite down on my lips occasionally. “Sal…” I tried to call out but then two fingers were shoved into my mouth. I was perplexed at the way I quickly nibbled and sucked on what I was offered. My tongue lapped on the fingers greedily. How could fingers taste so good? I was where I wanted to be at that moment. No thoughts No worries Just my jailor and my desire. My jeans zip was undone by Salvador's free hand and I assisted in pulling them down until they passed my knees.

Her eyes lit up with delight, sparkling like those of a six-year-old who had just been given her favorite candy. "But no more!" He shifted the bowl slightly out of Astrid's reach, jokingly emphasizing his warning. Astrid's face broke into a wide, joyful smile as she savored the extra treat. While the main dishes cooked, Phoenix prepared a refreshing salad. He chopped cucumber, cabbage, carrots, sweet corn, and other vegetables, tossing them with a creamy dressing of mayonnaise and lemon juice.

As she sighed, the weight of her conflicted emotions heavy upon me. "I don't feel anything towards him. I feel more comfortable with Orion." I shook my head, "Your brain needs to be checked." We arrived in the kitchen, where Glamour presented me with the ingredients needed to prepare the Horiatiki salad—a tomato, cucumber, green pepper, red onion, Kalamata olives, green olives, and, of course, feta cheese. There was also a peculiar leaf that caught my attention. "Here you go," she said, then turned to leave without further instructions.

My fingers traced one, soft and black. Sarah noticed. "Pretty, right? Keeps things exciting." She winked, folding a pair of Mark's boxers. I nodded, imagining her in it, Mark's hands on her. The thought made me squirm. We finished up, carrying baskets back. Lunch came soon after—sandwiches again. At the table, Mark's knee bumped mine. "Sorry," he said, but did not move it away. Sarah passed me a pickle. "Try this." Her fingers brushed my lips as she fed me a bite, her eyes holding mine. Salty juice dripped, and I licked it off, her touch lingering.

from Ryan and I shrugged my coat on and grabbed the salad. Once I got in his car he noticed the salad in my hands and laughed "you actually brought me a fruit salad" I pulled my coat off and seat belted myself "duh. Wouldn't want to leave you hungry" "You're so thoughtful!" He said. "Shit I forgot a fork. God I'm an idiot" He laughed "just use your fingers" I looked at my hands and then back at him "you sure?" He nodded "yeah I'm sure. I'd also like to see what else your fingers can do"

It was just that it had not planned to disappoint a pleasant afternoon. “Yes, Siegfried. It’d be in the large cauldron, we have company. What does a swollen finger eat?... Swollen fingers help the goat-head pull some potatoes!” The mute, petrified limbs again scuttled silently. Scuttle! Scuttle! Fast! And Faster! And they hurried to the potato patch following the hut and preceding the craggy slope in the garden. “They don’t need anything…the girl what are we going to do about her? She smells bland,” said Siegfried, holding out the shallow wicker basket while its mistress still hunching and placing two more carrots she had gathered.

He pulled out another Tupperware container and it had salad already made in it. “This salad is a basic salad. But with my Nonna’s homemade dressing. Which is just olive oil and vinegar with salt and pepper” trust me, its good. He dished out salad into bowls for us both and set them next to the plates with pizza. He rummaged through my kitchen drawers until he found silverware and pulled out two forks. I smiled and took my seat. He handed me a fork and I started instantly moving around the salad to see what was in it. Lettuce, tomato, cucumber, chick peas, r****h, and croutons. Good, no onions. I didn’t like onions unless they were cooked.