Bites By Michael Fontana

She sported a brushy black bob above a boyish neck and then there were the ears, spangled with silver circles.  I had a penchant for the taste of silver on my tongue, wearing a silver stud in it, so first came a lick of her lobe, then the slightest nibble, then a full-on bite.  She turned as soon as I did it, moving from her calm position kneeling on the bed with her back turned to me, praying or meditating perhaps, a mantra escaping her lips with soft sibilance, like a beautiful blue and gold serpent hidden in a mound of grass, alerting you to its presence, not to strike fear but to draw your proper wonder.

When she turned to me, her nipples stood erect, buds of tiny breasts.  A thin line of dark hair ran from her navel down into her more abundant pubes.  I kissed her and she kissed back, her arms wrapping around me like a sarong around a body too large for it.  Also naked there, I took the time to remove the silver circles from her ears so that not even an apparition of ornamentation remained on her beyond her own innate beauty.

As she kissed me, she rolled her tongue in my mouth and then took a bite of her own, my lower lip between her teeth.  The skin broke ever so slightly under pressure of it, and a new silver flavor, that of blood, reached the tip of my tongue.  Still I didn’t falter.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as if resuming her prayer.  I bent my head down and kiss between her breasts.  She breathed deeply and seized my hair, pulling my head further down, past her navel, down into her thighs and there pressed my face against her.

I might have entered a rainforest since everything seemed so lush, so fragrant with ripe fruits.  Meanwhile the sounds cascading out of her were primal, animal, guttural.  This exploration went on for eternal moments, until my face grew soaked, and then the urge to bite again, this time the ripe berry that clung to the top of her opening.  With this she shuddered, bucked against me, initially pulling my head closer, holding it tight there, before pushing it away.

Leaning back, I witnessed her as if for the first time, eyes sealed, mouth open, head tilted back, hands over her breasts as if to protect them from further onslaught.  The hissing resumed.  I caressed her precious ears and nibbled at them once or twice to watch her flinch with pleasure or pain or both, I wasn’t sure, before she pulled me completely onto her and the forest opened itself to further exploration: fingers, fist, my body becoming consumed by hers in increments, until it seemed there was no separation then or ever before or ever after, as if we had become the ouroboros, the snake eating itself alive, bite by bite, into infinity and nothingness all at once.

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