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Culinary Orgasm


            
             The pale, blue moonlight crept inside the room, already covered in shadow. It landed softly on her delicate skin. I looked into her eyes. In them I saw eagerness, fear, arousal. Her golden brown hair hung stagnant and perfectly in place, ready for the new experience. I lowered my lips to hers. Slowly. Pausing. I opened them and closed my eyes. As I bit down I could feel the soft, red flesh and the dark, warm liquid dancing in the kaleidoscope that was my mouth. I opened my eyes again and looked into hers. As I chewed slowly and quietly I received the message. Her eyes told me she was concerned about the pain.
             I followed the dark liquid down her chin and into the dark cavities of her neck. There it pooled slowly and richly, sliding together like mercury slowly drawn by Eros into eternity. Fully knowing what lie ahead, I continued to follow the footsteps of Eros until I lost my trail. I encountered two new obstacles. Obstacles, they were not; merely the platter presenting my feast. I circled my prey slowly and teasingly. My tongue lavished their smooth circumference. Like a wave of fire, the urge to bite entered me. I began to position my lips directly over her first pinnacle when I looked into her eyes. Her eyes told me she was concerned about the pain.
             As my jaw closed on the tender, wet tissue her body twitched and quivered lightly; she was like a small child, riding a rollercoaster for the very first time. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as I focused on the tender, textured meat. The thick dark liquid accompanied my meal as dutifully commensurate to it. My lips rolled softly around her obstacles, feeling their softness, wetness, stickiness. My tongue discovered the newly flowing liquid and welcomed its obvious presence. Knowing where I would venture next, I looked into her eyes. She had grown more concerned about the pain.
             Nonetheless, I continued with my feast.


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