Lyrical Tastes

A Journey Through Music, Food, and Writing

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Long Time Coming

I stared at it, gazing at the sheer massiveness of it.

I moaned. Low enough so that he couldn’t hear me. 

It was only right.

I opened my mouth, hoping that my attempt at enveloping the engorged flesh was successful. Even if it weren’t, I was going to continue to try.

I took him in. His moan was audible, and forced the internal prowess to expose itself.

I moved slowly, skillfully, letting his moans become my music of motivation. His obscenities slowly seeped into my reverie, letting me know that though I was running the show that was playing itself out, he was still in control.

After all, he was still the man. The organ moving fluidly past my lips and onto my tongue made that evident.

I continued my tirade, pulling back, taking the time to lick the areas that had yet to be reached. Marking them as though to make sure I got to them later.

No area would be missed.

No spot would be forgotten.

I put him back into my mouth, encompassing him within its confines. Closing my eyes and relaxing my muscles, I pulled him in, taking him as far as I could, feeling victory as my lips touched scrotum.

He cursed. Loudly.

If I could’ve grinned, I would have.

I did that. I had that power.

But he was the man. I knew that. I understood that. He had the control.

But I had the power to make him lose it. Even if only momentarily.

The thought put my mouth into overdrive. I sucked and licked. I licked and sucked, wanting nothing more than to taste the power that I had spill down my throat.

Sounds left my throat, vibrated off my tongue and tantalized him.

I felt it.

I felt him coming.

I continued, not letting the inevitable distract me from my mission. My goal.

After all, what he was doing was exactly what I was there for.

His body convulsed, and I took what was coming to me.

I swallowed. I pulled away. Slowly. Then took the time to move up and look into his eyes.

Half mast. Seeing his eyes at half-mast was his admission of my power.

I smiled at it. Sweetly. Then offered him a towel.

Filed under Writing Noir