Feast.

Feast of the flesh
Notes for Notesground

Her eyes lazily glide down her form. She’s looking at her with a satisfied gaze of a proprietor knowing his prized catch is not going anywhere. What comes after the thrill of the chase, for some lucky ones, is the contentment of ownership, the luxury of knowing that the game has been won – the delight of looking at a tamed warrior – and it can be especially sweet and desirable if the feast of the flesh is still left to be celebrated.

Today, she looks at her beautiful comrade the same way, mentally unclothing her and ready to fulfil her sexual appetite, but waiting, yet, for some unknown, unrealised reason. Her prey is in no hurry either, if anything, she herself wishes not to disturb this peaceful coexistence. She knows the desires she is capable of stirring in this woman, and carnal urgency adds no passion to the desire they already share. 


Written in one of those moods. Have you ever had such an experience? Would love comments!