B&W

Dionysian Dependence

"But why me?", she asked.

I couldn't hide the bufuddled look on my face. Was she not aware that her divine cunt was my ambrosia? Folds and flaps that I ravenously consumed with Dionysian dependence.

I stepped forward, turned her around, and bent her over. Sometimes actions are far more effective than words, and this was one of those moments.