FORBIDDEN FRUIT

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

You haven’t truly had your pussy eaten until
I have tasted of your forbidden fruit.

Until I have embarked on the journey
That ended in me
Drowning in your flooding waters.

I know what you’re thinking.
“I’ve had my pussy eaten before.”
What makes me so different?
Let me explain.

Starting from the bottom,
I will insert my tongue
Between your closed lips

Allowing you to fill my mouth
As I make way to the
Top of your forbidden fruit.

It is there you will find me
Dancing around your clitoris in
A melodic rhythm.

Elegant By design,
Destructive by intent.

From small circles
To figure 8’s
To a firm yet gentle flicker

My tongue is stroking you
Like the paintbrush
Of an artist painting his next masterpiece

Your back will arch.
Your thighs will tremble.
Your palms will sweat
And your eyes will roll.

I have every intention of leaving nothing
Left for the next man who is
Fortunate enough to enter your garden.

As I put my finishing touches,
Your body will overflow
With wave after wave
Of climaxing energy

You will rise to look upon me
and find everything between
my chin and  nose
submerged in your deep puddles.

I will drink from your cup.
Your decadent juices will
Fill my mouth and spill over
Back on to you.

Once you have reached
The highest point of your orgasmic high,
I will then pin your arms down,
Preventing you from pushing me out of you.

Feasting on the remaining velvety substance
From out of your leaking crevice.

Your moans will turn into grunts.
Your grunts, into screams.
Your hips, will levitate off the bed.

When I am finished with you,
You will lay there stuck.
Confused and bewildered.

But never the less, you will understand
What it means to have your pussy eaten.

Bon a petit.