local cuisine

close your eyes
you moan into my ear
the heat in your breath tells me
it’s not a request
be still
(i try)
but this whisper
is against my thigh
as your finger treks
up my leg
like a parched traveler
searching for water
and i tremble
you see,
my reaction to you
is a reflex
when you are near
(and even when you are not)
i need you closer
i need to breathe your
exhaled breath
i want to swallow your moans
and taste your orgasm
i need you
not pressed against me
because even that is too far
i need you to occupy
the same space
i need you to reside
inside of me
and as if on cue
you plunge inside
fingers first
then tongue
exploring and
devouring me
like the local cuisine
or a forbidden fruit
that leaves sticky juice
dripping down your chin
one taste is not enough
you need more
to satisfy this
intense craving
that has consumed
your every thought
and so you continue to
and explore
and taste
until you come
to a new place
now slick with desire
from orgasm
after orgasm
a curious finger
squeezes inside
as if testing the water
in a new paradise
i welcome you in
by pressing my hips into
your hand
(and now your mouth)
wanting you deeper inside
just as i feel the ache
from the loss
of your retreating tongue
you press in
without pause or hesitation
and greedy
taking what you need from me
until you explode
filling me
leaving me dripping
like a staked claim


May 7, 2015