Ode to the chocolate of my lust.
But now I hold a real chocolate close to me. Carts and sidewalks pass in a blur. My car. Finally.
We are alone.
Barely has our skin warmed the seats when I lose control and tear your clothes off. My teeth nibble your creamy crust and get tickled by the bits of crispy rice inside. I sigh at the flavors swirling on my tongue and the texture between each bite. I swallow.
Perhaps Nestle Crunch and I were destined to be. As a young Filipina I often dreamed of champorado—a Philippine delicacy of liquidy chocolate and rice. But as I matured, my mouth yearned to have that young, dreamy delicacy mature into a hardened delight. I fell in love.
When we’re apart I fantasize our next meeting. Every second of feeling is enhanced by your mere presence. Why must you turn this graceful lady into a ravenous and wild woman? Yes—we burn the candle at both ends but oh… what a lovely bite.