Mind Caviar Poetry

Carey Douglas is from southeast Massachusetts, and has been writing for over twenty years. While juggling her writing with interests in photography and reading, as well as full time sales work in her family business and active volunteerism, Carey is also a single mom of twin boys. More of her work can be found at http://www.pathetic.org/library/545/

by Carey Douglas

My eyes are closed
My hands behind my back

"It will sharpen your other senses,"
He says.

"Open your mouth,"
He says.

"Trust me,"
He says.

I open my mouth slowly
My breath coming fast
I trust him implicitly
Feeling not quite fear
But vague apprehension
I feel something ...

A whisper of moving air
As he guides something to my parted lips
Cool -- now icy hot
It feels smooth and wet
Sensuously slick ...

I delicately dart my tongue
And swirl it across the rounded top
Tasting rich sweetness
With a hint of salt

I feel faint bumps beneath the smoothness
And a pronounced ridge
I lap my tongue across the ridge
And feel it move beneath my pressure
The sticky sweetness drips onto my tongue
And I let it slide down my throat
Enjoying the sweet salty trail

The taste is marvelous
And I recognize what it is
With a deep and throaty playful laugh
I scrape my teeth along its length

He says.

"Not too hard,"
He says.

With all the gentleness I can muster
I place my teeth just below the ridge ... 

He cries.

And I chew!

"NO! That's cheating!"
He says.

And I swallow it all,
Every delicious bit
Mmmmmmmm ...
The deliciousness of a 
frozen, chocolate-nut covered banana

To return the favor
I lead him into the bedroom
blindfolded with a silken scarf
his knees hit the beds edge

I push; he falls back
lying tangled in the sheets
still scented with our love

I whisper seductively,
into his ear
"I'll be right back my love"

Soon I return
knowing his senses are sharp
that he is attuned to my presence

He hears the scrape of wood
against glass

"What is that?" He rasps
his voice gone sexily hoarse

"Relax, my sweet," I coo,
"You'll know soon enough."

He gasps
as something warm
sticky, heavy, sweet,
drips onto his chest
drizzles down his furry belly
into the stiff curls below

He moans
as a new drip falls
upon the tip
of his manhood
trailing liquid fire
down its hard length

His moans turn to groans
as my tongue follows its path
soothing the hot flesh
yet beginning a new burn

I savor each lick
letting my tongue linger
fanning the flames of his desire
pushing him ever closer
to the brink of ecstasy

knowing he is so close
to losing his precious control
he rips off the blindfold
removes the spoon from my hand

"Turnabout is only fair"
he sets about
making me
his personal hot fudge sundae...

"Edible" Copyright © 2000 Carey Douglas. All rights reserved. 

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