Savage Love

I unwrapped the two luscious, pink mounds and caught them as they fell into my greedy, waiting hands, pleased as always by their bounteous heft. I gently caressed each perfect orb, my thumbs playfully brushing over the fuzzy apogees as my fingers lightly probed the soft, resilient sides.

As I pressed one to my lips its perfume seared my senses and my mouth watered like an animal. I took it into my mouth and and closed my teeth around it, gently at first, letting its musk wash over me, my tongue wildly searching for treasure in hidden recesses.

Then I bit hard, savagely, my teeth tearing through the briefly yielding skin and into the sweet flesh underneath. I pulled away victoriously, my mouth filled with magic and sweet cream. I chewed, swallowed, and went back for more. Time and again I attacked those glorious globes until there was finally nothing left but the sound of my own labored breathing.

Man, I love them Hostess Snowballs!

Uh, what did you think I was talking about?

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I was born November 6th and my older brother was born November 12th. This makes us Valentine's Day babies. Him more than me, of course. I think that's charming, in a way.

On the other hand, my folks could just as easily have been celebrating Lupercalia in the most appropriate way possible, aside from actually suckling a she-wolf.

And if your birthday is January 1st then your folks performed one HELL of a practical joke, you little April Firster, you. We should have more people named Joy Buzzer McReynolds and Dribble Glass Johnson.

=Lefty=

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