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Hunger

I’m hungry for kissing. It’s not about sex, this hunger. It’s too feral for that. It’s a growl barely held in my throat, teeth fighting not to find lips, any lips, to sink into.

I could say “I want to kiss you,” but that’s not what I mean and it’s not enough. I want to overwhelm you like storm surge over the Keys. I want to smash into you unswerving and hard as a sledgehammer into drywall. It’s a desire not to kiss but to consume. I want to feel hot flesh under my mouth, to sink teeth in and not let go.

It’s not what I mean and it’s not enough. I’m not sure anything would be. I don’t much care. I want to kiss like there’s nothing else in the world.

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  1. March 24, 2013 at 9:55 pm

    Been there. Done that. I wish you better luck than I’ve had at finding satisfaction.

    Get what you want… it’s never enough.

    • gingernic
      March 25, 2013 at 2:51 pm

      There’s a bit of folklore I half-remember about a man so voracious that he eats his kingdom into a famine, and eventually devours his wife when the food runs out. Sometimes I think my satiety gauge is broken like that. I’m not sure there’s any such thing as “enough,” and reaching it might almost be a disappointment, but ugh, those nights when I can’t think about anything else are so frustrating!

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