When the flesh and bone of reality just doesn’t cut it anymore, you need an escape. You need the appetizing side of your mind to pick up the slack.  You need it more than you can even comprehend.  The delectable darling needs to step it up.  She needs those demons she’s made friends with to pop over to the light and bring some of that delightful dark with them.  Fall into the the pit of that nectarous night time fantasy during the day.

Do it.

No one’s around.  No one will know.  Shove that savory temptation all the way in and let it happen.  Don’t be afraid to let it take shape.  It’s time.  It’s been long enough.  That lion’s been asleep in the back of your mouthwatering mind for too long.  Wake it up.  Splash him, soak him, devour him and let him lay to waste while you go at it again and again.

Forget you pain.  Forget your past.  And forget your future.  Just feel.

I can’t help it my imagination is built this way.  It’s rare and rich to possess something so tantalizing, luscious, sensual and yummy.  It’s a shame it can’t be on devious display all the time.  Instead it’s tucked away for those special times and lured out by the siren song of depravity that palpitates and suffers in succulent silence.  It’s not to be forced or pushed but it is to be played with. That much is allowed. Then lick it clean from the dripping sugar coated day dreams that run on repeat during the scrumptious peep shows behind the doors in my mind.

Every inviting morsel sweetened and sucked in just as a fantasy appetizer.  By the time the main course has come, you’re so stuffed, you don’t know if you can go anymore.  But you do.  You have to.  You have to finish it all.  The glutinous greed is taking over. Let it. Keep going, don’t stop.  This is a flight of fancy mind fuck fit for a king so give him all you got now.  A tantalizing illusion of the most gratifying nature.  Objectifying yourself, for yourself.  What’s the harm in that?

Heavenly, palatable, enticing, divine, pleasurable, satisfying, delicious.

It all tastes so good when it’s bad. Right?