Sticky and Sweet and Dirty


As she wiggles her toes while chattering her teeth, he collapses on top of her with his kisses and words, words that seem to make no sense but there’s meaning behind them she’s sure, and so she wraps her arms around him holding him tight. The sweat and scent of their bodies mix to make the perfect aroma. It’s sticky and sweet and dirty in all the right places. If only I could bottle it, she thinks. With his damp hair tickling her nose, he wriggles downwards before putting his mouth against the nipple of her left breast. Suckling her like a baby, she closes her eyes as he groans.

‘Don’t forget the breakfast you’re cooking’ she tells him, but he shows no interest.

Sliding his tongue over her nipple then gently biting it, he digs his fingers into the flesh of her hips, and as she feels the hot air from his nose blowing against her skin, he says something in response, but she can’t make out heads or tails what it is.

‘I can’t hear you with my tit in your mouth’.

Opening her eyes, she looks down at him, and as he looks up at her in return, she can’t help but giggle. He looks like a naughty cat. One that’s been caught chewing a sock.

‘If you burn my food, I’m gonna hurt you. Really, I’ll cut off your little man and throw it to the ducks.’

Sliding his tongue around, he releases her breast from his mouth.

‘Ducks don’t eat meat, do they?’

Going back to her nipple, he then releases it a few seconds later.


‘Ha! It took you long enough, didn’t it? Now, go get my food mister. You can have me all you want after we’ve eaten.’

Letting out a sigh, he rested his head on her belly.

‘Are you cooking beans? she asks, to which he gave a nod.

‘Well, if I find a single one of them burnt, I’m gonna give you a whooping!’

Snorting with laughter, he picked himself up before leaning over and admiring the sight of her nude body while breathing in a lungful of her scent.

A whooping?’ he asked. ‘Since when did you turn into my nan?’

Before she had a chance to react, he leapt off the bed. Grabbing his dressing gown, he put it on but not before shaking his hips and spinning his little man around like the blades of a helicopter. Laughing at her reaction, he disappeared from the room and she heard him descend the stairs into the kitchen. Clutching her belly, she rested her head on the pillow, satisfied and content. Sticking her finger in the saliva he’d left on her breast, she closed her eyes again and hummed a tune that filled the room like golden rays of sunshine.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

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