My Taboo Craving

I have to get this off my chest; it's been eating at me for ages. There's this memory that hits me like a wave, that first taste of her, all warm and inviting, pulling me in deeper than I ever planned. She was fully grown, every curve screaming consent and desire, and damn, it was electric. I remember the way my tongue slid over her, slick and eager, exploring every secret spot that made her gasp and arch. It was raw, unfiltered bliss; her flavor was intoxicating, a mix of salt and sweetness that lingered on my lips for hours. I lost myself in it, feeling her body tremble under my mouth, her moans echoing in my ears like a forbidden symphony. God, it was the best thing I've ever tasted, and it left me hooked, craving more of that heady rush. I know it's messy, this hunger that doesn't quit, but I don't care; it's mine, all mine. Every time I think about it, my heart races and my body aches, wondering if I'll ever find that again. It's not just sex; it's this primal need that makes me feel alive, flaws and all, like I'm finally touching something real and wild. I confess, I'm unapologetic about it; who knew one night could ignite a fire that burns this bright?