Pinch It Hard


A clear liquid dribbles down the inside of her thighs the same as the two streams of saliva that dribble from the corners of her mouth. The saliva is thick with blueberry muffin. Licking it from her chin, I taste not food but obsession. The obsession of wishing not only to devour her body but in taking a peek behind the veil. The veil is in my head, and yet I project it onto her. I take the secrets of the universe and paint them onto her skin the same as I picture the mysteries of distant galaxies and imagine them swirling within her belly. She is a door; a door to all things that have ever meant anything to me. She is a door that I’m always trying to prise open. Pinning her arms on the mattress above her head, I grip her skinny wrists and grin at her as she chews and chomps the muffin. She struggles and winces but enjoys it all the same. With her eyes on mine, she swallows all but the last mouthful which she promptly spits into my face. The gooey mess covers me from nose to ear, and yet all I can do is laugh. Behind me, the golden rays of the sun come through the window, wrapping themselves around our limbs. They burn our skin, yet there’s God in those rays, and his warmth gets deep into our bones, bones that will one day be dust. Struggling beneath me, she lifts her legs up and then kicks her heels into my lower back, forcing my cock into her. I can hear the sounds of waves again, and the distinct chatter of dolphins. The waters of her womb bring them to me so clearly, and I want them to wash over me like a tidal wave.

“I want you to squirt,” I tell her.

Grinning her gums at me, she clenches her hands into fists. My grip on her wrists doesn’t falter, however.

“I can’t do it at the drop of a hat,” she says, but I know she’s lying.

“Don’t lie to me, Meeko. I know you.”

Her grin lessons and a look passes between us both serious and hedonistic.

“Feed me and pinch my clit. Pinch it hard.”

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says, “shut up.”

Reaching for another muffin with one hand, with the other, I squeeze her clit and feel her atoms tingle and dance with electricity.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

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