You’re no good for me.

I know you’re bad for me.

No, you’re terrible for me.

When you’re a part of my life my stomach never stops roiling. My chest never stops hurting. My throat is tight.

But when you’re not I long for you, oh Goddesses how I long for you. All I have to do is walk down the street, and see you inside a shop for my heart to skip, or on the street, held by the hands of another woman, a luckier woman. For my chest to tighten. For my mouth to water, for my eyes to sting and well up with never forgotten longing for you my darling.

But last week the stars aligned and you came back into my life, no matter how briefly it was. I held your body in my hands once more. Felt your flesh against my lips. Reveled in the decadence of that same flesh passing through my lips as it slid into my mouth. I still remember how firm, but somehow still so soft your flesh was against my tongue. How you tasted at the same time somehow smokey, but also sweet.

And that moment when I pushed your flesh gently against the roof of my mouth with my tongue, and felt your juices running out, over my tongue and down my throat. The delicious saltiness of it, coating my mouth, my throat. *sigh*

And then you left me again. Back to your other, luckier women.  You left me, even after I licked your juices off of my fingers from where they had ran down over them. A single long slow trickle of thick salty liquid, licked lovingly, lustfully with one long slow lick from the very tip of my tongue.

You left me despite how much I love you.

But as much as it hurts, I can still feel you inside of me.

I can still feel your mass, deep in my body, filling me.

And I can still feel my skin stiffen, tighten, that wondrously odd sensation where your juices escaped my lips to run down over my chin, before dropping to my breasts.

Those are the memories I will carry with me. Because and I say this for the world to hear.

I love you toasted bread, with real butter melted into every pore. I love you! And I’ll miss you for the rest of my life.

(I spent the whole of last week preparing for a coeliac blood test. Which basically meant I had to eat everything that makes me feel sick in anyway. So I did. Anyway my coeliac adopted lil sister, The Kitten, asked me to eat some buttery toast and write up a description of it for her. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.)

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4 Comments to “You’re no good for me.”

    • I’ll take you approve then Vic?

      • Absolutely. I can’t have that particular sensual delight either, and your description made me salivate. I could taste it on my tongue…

      • Yeah, while I was writing it I ended up absolutely starving hungry for some toasted white bread, with butter and raspberry jam, and actually kind of horny because it reminded me of my one and only one night stand. She was a very delicious pre-op transgirl. So salty yumness there too. *sigh*

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