My momma swore by toothpaste. Said it was the best thing since sliced bread. She had more uses for it than Carter's got pills. Aside from keeping my teeth clean, she would put it on my mosquito bites to take the itch out. She polished her silver earrings -- the ones she got when Grammy died -- with it, and used it on an old toothbrush to scrub the silver and marcasite watch Daddy gave her for their tenth anniversary. She even put it on my skin once or twice, before -- before. To get rid of redness when I'd picked a zit.

But I just learned the best use for toothpaste *ever*.

Logan taught me.

I was kind of surprised when he came out of the bathroom with the tube and put it on the night table. I mean, we didn't need lube of any kind, and if we did, I had some special raspberry flavored stuff Jubes and I picked up at the Pink Pussycat one night when we went exploring in the city.

He lay down on the bed next to me and slid his mouth over my body, through the sheer gauze we used to make love. When he got to the juncture between my legs, he reached over and grabbed the toothpaste.

I was more than a little shocked when he dabbed a little on my clit.

"Logan?" I gasped in confused pleasure. It was *tingly*.

"Just wait and see, darlin'," he said, giving me a grin that made me wetter than I already was. He moved his tongue over me, and it was so good. It always is. But it was even better than it usually is. There was a tingle -- an exquisite chill -- that edged the shivering pulses of pleasure that shuddered through me as I came against his mouth.

When my orgasm softened and faded, he kissed me, and I could taste myself on his tongue, along with the minty freshness of the toothpaste.

Momma was right. Toothpaste is the best damn thing to come down the pike since chocolate, and that's saying something.

End