delilahb

smackity smackity my lips against your red, freckled flesh. licking my thumb, to enhale each scent, taste, texture of summer. I chomp each splended fibre of lusciousness, waiting for my lips to scrape the center of creation. Slowly, devouring, sucking, finding ways to make you new, making you last longer so I don't need to find new juices to linger on my lips; juices wet, slippery, dangerous, sour on my fingertips. I eat you and think of innocent young girls smacking their lips around ripe nectarines and wish I were with them for eternity.