weeds.

(awkward and repressed thumbs up)

'Can I have you?' I implore, as my hands plunge into the hills and grooves of his endless skin.
He giggles, his face cracking into sumptuous fractals of golden sugar, and my mouth fills.

'Can I have you?' I ask again, my jaws aching to trap him in me, to tease his ambrosial flesh into my desperately awaiting maw.

He laughs again, and his tender gaze meets mine in an unspoken promise.
His eyes are that indescribably wet kind of blue and I want nothing more than to nourish myself with them, to eat them whole.
I imagine they would burst like bubbles and flood my pitiful little gob with dew.
He is the brightest little fat droplet perched perfectly on the vine, and if I could, I would gratefully suck him away, all in one.

Remaining beneath me, he chuckles jubilantly as my teeth clamp that faultless angle between his neck and collarbone, my saliva coating divine imprisoned skin.

I think he closes his eyes. I hope he does.

My lips wedge ever closer together, and the urge to howl in pleasure boils fervently within me.

His strapping hands adorn me, his fingertips worshipping the valleys of my ribs, and my slobber runs down his chest.
I brand him with my teeth, sinking into him as much as our bones will let me.
He rakes hair from my face as I come up for air, my red face encrusted with tears, spit, and the sweat of restraint. And he doesn't leave.

'Can I have you?' My voice falters, breaking, my breath heavy and clagged.
He puts his wrist between my teeth, and smiles as he feels my warm saliva pool across the plains of his arm.