One Hundred words of Flash fiction. Inspired by hunger.
That most tender, beautiful spot, right at your uppermost, innermost thigh. A slight crease that separates leg from vulva, a tendon that goes taut when you open just so. Right there, whehever I think about it, I salivate. I remember. I feel in the touch of memory, that skin between my teeth. I hear your gasp, then scream as I bite, as I mark where no one will see but me, where no one will feel but you. I turn to the other side, cheek and lips and cheek bathed by your flooded cunt, matching marks. Once bitten… Twice bitten.