[short] May I Taste You?
May I Taste You?
Warning: sexual content, gore, cannibalism. seriously.
Note: Written in 2005, I think. Ish.
Her tongue rolled like a python on the shoulders of a snake charmer, licking at the air to taste my scent. She inhaled deeply, her eyes drifting shut to savor whatever it was she was feeling, and then she smiled. Hand on round hip, smooth legs perched with confidence before my bed as I lay exposed like a monarch before her. She asked me, “May I taste you?”
And what was I to do but nod stupidly, caught in the sway of her long, red, micro-braided hair that ticked as the beads hit each other, beating, like the beat of her lips as she smacked them together, salivating, waiting to taste me? I am a simple man. When a beautiful woman asks me such a question, I do not refuse her.
For anything.
She grinned at me, and then bent down to my ear, slowly, bronze breasts sipping from her loose bra to hover just bare inches before my mouth. She licked my left lobe, bit down gently, tasted me. And then she hummed like a whore. “That’s good,” she said.
Very good, a little voice down in my waistband groaned back.
And then she bit me again. Hard, this time, on my ear lobe. Not a love bite, not even a childish bite, but a bite bite, like a diner bite, a chewing bite that made the blood flow, and hurt like a goddamn bastard. I yelped in surprise and pulled away, pushing against her, swearing, glaring over her shoulder, but she held me back. Held me, me, a man. She was just a weak little woman–yes weak, those arms were thin and bony and–and she had me in a grip that I couldn’t escape from as she bit down harder on my ear lobe, and I felt the skin separating, tearing, bleeding all over my neck and shoulder. I yelled, but she chewed, still chewed until the meat finally gave way and broke off into her mouth.
She pulled away, still chewing my left lobe like bubblegum–would she blow bubbles with it?–sucking the blood off her fingers.
I screamed. I clawed at the floor beneath me, crawling away, far, far away, but she grabbed me by the leg and pulled me back, straddling me, licking me again, grinning.
She swallowed my lobe, swallowed it down her throat, into her stomach, she ate it, ate a piece of me and then grinned, grinned at me, grinned teeth. Pointy white teeth. Sharp… pointy… teeth…
I can’t remember where she came from. I was sleeping, and then she was sitting there over my bed in provocative clothing, you see. I thought I was dreaming.
But I wasn’t.
I still don’t know what she was or where she came from. I don’t know if she’ll come back for me. All I know is that she ate my entire left hand, three of my toes and a kidney. She said that I tasted good.
I remember, because she made me taste myself. She’d put in my mouth, yes, and I ate it. Have you ever ate a piece of yourself?
It’s a strange sensation.
I think I liked it, liked the way her tongue roved along the back of what remained of my ear, lapping up my blood like a cat lapping the slime off one of her kittens…
Oh, look. I have that craving again. May I taste you?
