Portion Control
Golden Syrup oozed into my life when I was just nineteen. I was engaged to the daughter of a local hotelier and we had been left in charge one afternoon in the hot summer of 1978. You will have seen those tiny tins of golden syrup that are set on breakfast tables amongst the little jars of marmalade. In a moment of inspiration I pocketed a half dozen from a box and took them up with us to her room.
At that age, sex is never far from the surface, so in five seconds I was running my tongue down her belly at the same time trying to open the tiny tin with a yale key.
“What are you doing?”
I poured it over her while she squirmed and laughed and began licking it off. It thinned and spread with the heat of her body and the scent of sugar rose with her scent. The room was filled with it. We were shocked by its effect on us. She said “Open another”. She massaged it into my groin, stroking it into my erection, pouring more on, letting it run down before licking then sucking it off.
In the evening we stole a kiss. The taste of Golden Syrup.
Wednesday 8 October 2008
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