Honey
When I take you in my mouth you are soft, drooping gently and closed like a flower at night, its petals pulled in delicately around the precious center. Your skin is loose and velvety where I catch it between my lips and try to tease you open.
I know there is nectar here. The rich flavor rushes into my mouth when my probing tongue slips beneath your skin. I buzz and hum, quietly, to make your juices begin to flow. The sun is rising and I am the day's first bee, and in response you are stiffening, head lifting, petals beginning to pull back. You grow lush and firm in my mouth and I can feel your moist head peeking from underneath its covering, the taste sweet as a flower but as sharp and heavy as flesh and blood. I buzz again, zzzzzzzz, and the tip of my tongue fits itself to your small opening; my hands move over your body, a touch as light as the brush of wings.
I feel your hands on my hips, moving me to kneel over you. As I trace a spiral around your head I feel your fingers spreading my own petals, your tongue tentatively circling the bud at the center, sticky with its own kind of nectar. And I know I am sweet to you when you moan, and the moan turns to a hum, and we are both vibrating in each others' mouths, resonating to the rapid movements of eager tongues, bodies touching as lightly as if we were weightless, as if we flew.
Copyright (c) 2005 by Eva Vandetuin
I know there is nectar here. The rich flavor rushes into my mouth when my probing tongue slips beneath your skin. I buzz and hum, quietly, to make your juices begin to flow. The sun is rising and I am the day's first bee, and in response you are stiffening, head lifting, petals beginning to pull back. You grow lush and firm in my mouth and I can feel your moist head peeking from underneath its covering, the taste sweet as a flower but as sharp and heavy as flesh and blood. I buzz again, zzzzzzzz, and the tip of my tongue fits itself to your small opening; my hands move over your body, a touch as light as the brush of wings.
I feel your hands on my hips, moving me to kneel over you. As I trace a spiral around your head I feel your fingers spreading my own petals, your tongue tentatively circling the bud at the center, sticky with its own kind of nectar. And I know I am sweet to you when you moan, and the moan turns to a hum, and we are both vibrating in each others' mouths, resonating to the rapid movements of eager tongues, bodies touching as lightly as if we were weightless, as if we flew.
Copyright (c) 2005 by Eva Vandetuin