A place where my dark side sometimes creeps out to play
The juices from each piece of corn bursts between your teeth and tongue,
The butter leaves a glistening on your lips, a droplet slides down your chin,
You do not feel it but I watch it’s progress and feel compelled,
To catch it with my finger tip and raise it to my own tongue.
I have wanted to taste you awhile and your proximity is driving me insane,
Keeping that finger between my lips, I watch you staring,
Your chewing has paused, your pupils dilated. I release my finger slowly,
And I see you swallow. You reach for my hand and hold it close,
My finger tip still wet, my heart racing, your warm hand draws it close.
To your own mouth from which warm breath glides over my hand.
I push my hand to your lips and you guide the same finger between your lips.
My eyes close briefly of their own accord, before I look again to enjoy,
The vision alongside the sensation in which we partake.
A small moan escapes me and I pull closer to you. Please don’t stop…
(could’ve just used a napkin? 😂😂)