Before Dinner

Member since 2004 · Posted 5 May 2006 · 3 comments

The pestle is bone. The whisk, fingers. Balustrades tremble to my touch. The morter is flesh. Each dancing spot of flour Dusts your skin, Flutters with your breath Steps buckle and sway. My voice, a stifled burst. The pin turns a swathe. The cup, sweet lips. Smoke churns as I enter. The breadth extends. I hesitate, pierce the doorway.

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4 votes so far. Yours would make 5.4 votes so far

3 comments

[8] Ranger 5-May-06/10:58 AM Reply

I doubt dinner was on the menu.

[9] Dovina 5-May-06/7:41 PM Reply

Morter and pestal, a short melding before dinner - how sweet. Pierce the doorway - how enticing. Yes.

[9] Niphredil 7-May-06/2:20 PM Reply

Very nice, tres kinky :-) Although on the first read, I felt that 'bone' and 'fingers' were reminiscent of a skeleton. Not sexy!

BTW, "mortar", not "morter".