The Taste of You

for Chris

I want you in my room again. I want you on all fours in my bed, spreading your perfect ass, to bite your thighs and go dipping my hungry tongue into your sweet darkness. The taste of you... Nothing ever like it. My drug. Perhaps you tasted like the earth, some rich softness. Reaching down to pull on your cock as I bathed you with my tongue. Your moans reaching and filling my hungry ears, and I lapped at you hungrily, trying to invade you but you were so tight and tender, waiting for the point you would ask to sit on my face, grind yourself on my fevered tongue, scream my name and the words "Mommy! You're so amazing!!" But she was your age. You never sent rim job pics to her all day long, she wouldn't understand. But she was your kind. And nice, and sweet, and pure and innocent and deserving of you. Unlike me, your cum slut dumpster ass eater mature whore who loved your every breath, the taste of coffee at your lips, your boyish grin and sandalwood cologne and the tearful pleadings in you to never, ever, ever stop.