Sitting across the table from the love of your life, his hand gently rubbing around the plate he's cradling, caressing it with his lean, long fingers. The restaurant is quiet and you can focus only on him and the things he's thinking about.

You look into his gorgeous eyes and feel your hand reaching out to grab the plate from his reach. You don't think about it. You want to touch that hand and leave it empty, you want to be in charge.

Then you start to eat his food, shovelling in mouthful after mouthful of the meal he's ordered. It doesn't matter what it is: chicken, salad, fish, a cake. Now it's yours.

The second before the food touches your lips you feel saliva start pouring from the crevices of your mouth, as if a sprinkler has just been turned on behind your tongue. As you swallow the spitty sea you're faintly disgusted by the speed your mouth filled with the liquid, but you don't care. You're just too damn hungry.

Your meal might only take thirty seconds longer but you need food now. You desire it more than you've ever wanted food before. You are starving.

The cascade of saliva...

a tiny involuntary movement of desire.