A Song of Succulence
An epicurean feast of flesh lies hidden beneath her skin
--
Round and full and luscious,
like berries in July,
a stream of juices dribble
down the inside of her thigh.
Sweet and tangy syrup
like the nectar of the gods,
it coats my lips and fingers
as with my tongue, I prod
and lap, and lick, and suckle
on nature’s bounteous fruit,
my eyes half-closed and mind half-crazed
in pleasure absolute.
A tender, gentle grazing
of teeth upon the flesh,
then her hand comes down to guide me
and upon my head it rests,
to tease my hair and pull me close
against the silky folds
the passion of her urging touch
upon me makes me bold.
With pointed tongue, I quest inside
to taste her humid centre.
Her fluids flow like rivers
as my glossal organ enters.
Such succulence explodes from deep
within her fulsome core
that I am almost flooded —
still I guzzle for some more.
And each sweet burst evokes in me
a hunger so increased,
that I then vow to spend all night
on this epicurean feast.
Jupiter Grant is a self-published author, blogger, narrator and audiobook producer.
Inquiries and comments are always welcome. You can also find me on Twitter @GrantJupiter
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