On the Tip of my Tongue



He swallows slowly, taking the taste of him down deep into his throat, every element separated out and savoured. Sweet, sour, salty, bitter... front, side, edges, back...

Tastes from a kiss and the softness of spit; from the lap of his tongue against secret, sweaty, dark places, senses seduced, overwhelmed.

Daniel's day transferred in the dust of pottery, paper-cut blood, alien soil and the salt-grit of chips, when Jack sucks his loquacious fingers wet and clean.

Daniel's come on his tongue, his cock held in the shaped circle of Jack's lips, licked until it tastes familiar before it's released.

Swallow.


15/2/06

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