Failed Break Up

Calming winds surround me like a catacomb of blissful kisses, yet it seems my only wishes are dissolving in the wake of her reddened eyes. Eyes red and swollen from endless cries of woe and torment, they are a turbulently menacing mark of one who desperately yearns for a lost lover, "Only two weeks ago I left you" I say "And here you stand before me barely a shadow of your former self. So, what may I ask do you have to say to me?" Without hesitation from her mouth doth came a flying spick of spittle that splattered and seared into my cheek like battery acid, then as if adding salt to a freshly opened wound like a slamming door hinge her hand swung through the air gliding against the glistening pond of salivation on my face and grinding to a halt with the elegance of a bus attempting to stop on a dime. An audible smack echoed in my head and reverberated through my body down to the tips of my toes. The dampness of her hand only amplified the effect leaving a cold sting And the smell and taste of that coppery, bitter-sweet substance That was part of the reason we where through.

            BLOOD. She loved it and as much as I hated to admit I was beginning to as well. Swooping in before I had time to react, one of my most favored parts of her body slid out of her mouth and onto my cheek. This luscious pink slug slithered through the remnants Of the smeared pond up the contour of the bridge of my nose and back down around my lips. All the while Her fingers worked their busy job like tiny tentacles of savory pleasure, they tickled and teased my flesh from n****e to navel to firmly twisting my knob. "Um!" I know you didn't mean it Baby," She moaned continuing to tease "I know what you like and you don't need to be afraid if you like it. Let me make it all feel better." I closed my eyes I wanted to leave her and the dark sadomasochistic passions she held, but like cheap makeup they seemed to have rubbed off on me. Until finally I was getting off on things that scared me. Her biting A ravaging tugging and gnawing of the flesh, the crimson orange sting of pain, the heat of pain In the heat of passion. The cold wet sensation of blood gushing out of deep tissue teeth marks flowing down my skin, mixing with thick streams of saliva. Oh how I was her b***h And her mine. We were the power struggle type when it came to our chocolate indulgence. Switching from Dom to Sub at times and just seeing whose bite matches their bark In a game of dual domination. Until I met her I lived a fairly vanilla sex life not knowing how boring it was. Now, with her hot breath In my ear like a howling wind of carnal lust. The all familiar dark passions came to mind And from mind to member. The two heads thinking as one.