Hot Licorice Pieces

His lips changed into a deep red and flushed with heat and while I kissed him I couldn't help but think of hot licorice pieces. I wanted to keep him at the tip of my tongue for as long as I could, I liked the way we seemed almost attached with our faces so close. We created our own kind of heartbeat with movements and touching and synced breathing as if we were one human unit. I liked his hot whisper on my skin, the wetness writing a scripture on my hips, the climax heightening towards the final word. My body silently begging for more and him responding as if we had in fact practiced this dance. There was a certain kind of serenity that formed in the act of shedding our clothes and morphing. I liked the nakedness and now it's not the same and the licorice pieces have all gone cold and I am waiting for you to come home and write another chapter under our sheets.