Character: Feanorian of your choice... or maube a balrog!
Rating: G-ish... unless you use your imagination!
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s Middle-earth... but he’d spit this bit back!
With eager hands I laid hold of his shoulders.
With eager mouth I sought for his tender throat
With eager lips, tongue, teeth, I captured his flesh.
I drank the honey sweetness of his lips.
I drank the fearful manna of his tongue.
I drank his flaming soul, his spirit, his warring desire.
The firm shoulders under my hands wilted
The soft throat under my mouth shivered
The warm lips under my assault surrendered.
Here he lies, sated, languid, unable to flee.
Here he lies, pleading, lipid, mine to possess.
Here he lies, torn, throbbing, vanquished – my trophy, all mine!