Fallen

He’s sweet like the vanilla bean yoghurt I crave daily, alone or with fresh granola, it’s a blue label limited edition, and so popular that the shelves are sometimes empty, it’s a bad habit I just can’t break, like peering into his eyes on a rainy day when there’s nowhere else to run.  
 
Sometimes, I drive across town to the only other supermarket that stocks such, the texture alone with the subtle hint of vanilla bean granules that burst on my tongue is divine as I consume such, spoon after spoon, over indulging, like I like to over indulge in his delicious propositions designed to lure me like a fallen one.
 
He keeps looking at me like some ripe apple that’s been dipped in a sickly sweet red coated toffee and can’t wait to devour me whilst avoiding a chipped tooth from biting down too hard in his pursuance to consume the juiciest part of the apple beneath the glassy yet sticky coating, like the moist sticky glistening he leaves on my lips.  
 
I think I wanna dip him in something like that, and lick & suck him clean, he’s just as sickly sweet when he beckons me closer to breathe in the lingering aroma that’s on his breath, and it’s not long until I’m looking at him with a slight tilt to my glow, pondering his hands gripping me methodically and making me bare the weight of all his nasty playful perversions.  
 
His hidden proclivities unveil themselves to me each time he deep dives into me, lovingly yet borderline violently, and his methodic collision is a beautiful strategy that no longer keeps me bound, and to my surprise, he’s anchored to me in ways I can’t ponder to sever as he consumes me daily, medicinal for us both.  
 
He’s the glitch in Catholicism though he pleads his Atheism which frees us both to worship one another as it was always intended, and he’s mastered the art of turning water into wine, sipping on one another like an aged old bottle of red.  
 
Finely chiseled from his clean shaven jawline, to the point of his chin, and his heart shaped face leaves me gasping for breath, when he’s tongue deep, wedged deep between splayed limbs, draped over him as if that was the only place he find peace whilst driving me up the wall with apocalyptic orgasmic bliss.  
 
Soft kisses, hard thrusts, breathless inaudible smut that we’re both unable to decipher in the heat that we generate, and I watch the cascading flow that he elicits, drinking me passionately until all I taste on his lips are remnants of our ferocity beneath a subtle candle lit glow until our glistening bodies find their way into the shower recess, throat gripped tightly, and his eyes unlock mine without malicious intent.  
 
And we start all over again as he makes me straddle him until we’re forehead to forehead, and his gorgeous face is pressed again mine, whispering more inaudible smut until he’s buried deep inside me, once again, gently rolling our hips over one another until he determines when he’s ready to fill me deep, once again, like a free flowing art installation that only he knows how to create with his artistic flair.  
 
I’m hooked on the way he craves me, and the way his face  changes when he releases his tensions all over me, like a wave of energy that replenishes us, and he knows that I know, the depth & breath of everything he doesn’t say by the way he tilts his head, and side eyes me, in a room full of others as his playful realisations left me with welts on my arse cheeks.  
 
Knowing, I’m still swollen & pulsating, raw from the way he had his way before we left to mingle with the world around us, waiting for time to pass, so we can devour one another all over again, stripping one another with our eyes, and his three piece suit is deceiving but that’s the beauty of his masked deviousness, cornering me ever so subtly up against the wall.  
 
Knowing, I’m always hungry for his soft kisses & hard touch albeit vanilla isn’t really our flavour per se, though we play the part as we should whilst giggling at the disdain of those who’ve never reached the same level of bliss, in their kindled fuckery.  
 
He embodies strength when I’m weakened by things that leave us both speechless whilst savouring the moment, in knowing there’s a safe haven in his constant presence, pulling me into the vortex of all that he embodies, in the silent power he has over me, crowned in his stature he’s a gentle ruler with a hard bottom line that sticks out like a footnote, that’s gonna trip me and make me fall for him, all over again.