It’s been a long time. The pressure has been getting unberable. I have tried and tried to resist. It has actually been years since I’ve given in to the visceral pleasure, but tonight I could deny it no longer. I took a moment to reflect on how I came to have such a shameful vice.
It started with my mother. Yes, my dear, sweet loving mom. It was something we would do, together, when we were alone. No mention of it was made to my dad or sister, they had indicated plainly enough that such a thing revolted them both. Like drug addicts, mom and I would count the days until we were going to be alone together. We conceiled our nefarious plans from both dad and sis, and eagerly awaited the day when they would both be out of the house. We shared coy looks, and hoped that the others didn’t notice the thin beads of sweat that glisened on our upper lips as we contained our anticipation. Finally, the day would arrive. Sis would be at a friend’s house, and dad was working late. We plunged full force into the madness, and afterwards, supremely sated, we agreed never to talk about it to anyone else.
It was tougher in college. The realities of dorm life made it impossible to sneak away to indulge. I endured the cravings, but sometimes, late at night, I would creep away and make my connection in a seedy diner or other disreputable place. Bliss! But all too fleeting. I endured.
After college, I started an intense relationship with the woman who would become my wife. After we had been dating a while, I broached the subject to her. Her reaction was intense. She told me in no uncertain ters that if I ever proposed she engage in such an activity again, she would leave me flat. I was not suprised, and promised her I was done with it. For the next few years I was mostly OK. Sure, sometimes I had an urge to indulge in the afternoon, but I resisted. The dreams of tender flesh were harder, but thankfully not too frequent. Once more, I endured.
Now I am divorced. the pressure has been mounting for quite some time now. Today I finally gave in. I made my preperations carefully. I snuck it into my apartment concealed in a blue grocery bag, burried under innoculous food items. I carefully locked the door, drew all the shades and contemplated the debauchery which was now immenent. With trmbling hands, I retrieved the wrapped package from the grocery bag. As I unwrapped it, the coppery odor of blood assailed my nostrels and inflamed my senses. I unwrapped it. I marveled at the pure, red lifeblood that dripped from my fingertips, oh, this was from a young one! With a trembling hand I grasped a knife, and carefully sliced the tender flesh into strips. An almost orgasmic shudder wracked my body as I made the preperations. My sacrificial fire was just right, neither too hot nor too cold. I took the fresh strips of flesh, and, with a feral grin, plunged right in.
Man, that was the best piece of liver I ever ate!
