Taste
I'm always fascinated at how he tastes. It's constantly changing, and yet there's always that same underlying tang that I know is his.
Every time I taste him, I decide that it's thattaste I love the best.
Until next time.
I thought, at one time, that the taste of his come in my mouth was what I loved to taste most about him. But then, I tasted his skiin, sweaty from a workout and that was best. Then in the shower, clean and tasting of water, and I loved that too.
How does he taste so damn good? I even love the taste when I rim him.
I want to go on doing my taste tests forever. Pinning him down as I lazily move over his body, licking and sucking, tasting.
It's not him that stops it, but me. His taste brings me to a fever pitch, and before I know it, I'm begging him to fuck me. Oh god, I love how he tastes when he fucks me, his sweat-slicked skin has a different taste than it does after a workout or a battle.
I'm frightened that I've catalogued how he tastes, but I can't help it.
He's moving in closer now. I can't get over how much I love kissing him. I've never been a kissing sort of person, but with him I am. For hours.
So good.
And I've found the taste I love best. I love how he tastes when we kiss, slow and loving, sharing each other's life-breath.
I want to go on tasting it forever.