50 Shades Saltier

I walked along my usual route. As I strolled downtown, I inhaled the air around and I could almost assume there was less oxygen and more polluted gas surrounded the busy city. Throngs of people ambushed me, coming in from the left, startling me as I sharply evaded. I suddenly stopped in my tracks, realizing that the stoplight beyond the pedestrian lane before me flashed in red, reminding me that cars were on the go and bustling as they took advantage of their green light. Had I been careless, I would have had a terrible accident. Still, this has been my usual route, thus getting used to the imminent danger the city offers day and night. With this thought in mind everyday, I figured no lure may let me put my guard down–at least, that’s what I thought.

There he was again, at the same spot as always–concealing himself within the city lights every night. His advertised visage captured my eyes. I’ve been observing him, discreetly, unknowingly recognizing the kind of feeling I possess every time I see him. Attraction? I do not know. Certainly, the gravity from where he stands is so strong, I found myself staring at him, uncertain whether to give in to this feeling of hunger. As I breathe now, it’s as if all the car smoke and the bad breaths disperse, leaving only his scent. He has become a temptation. Over the weeks, I’ve avoided him yet I still watch him as I pass by this route, consistently and often more than a minute, causing me to fall deeply into his provocative trap. He eyes me back, with that glistening red dressing and his glowing skin, as if he can sense me. I feel embarrassment over realizing my hanker for his flesh beneath my fingers–Oh! How I cower over my shamelessness! How my unruly fantasies take over my thoughts! I am a decent woman, yet I seem to have lost my control. I feel it again. Memories of him and I flashed rapidly, allowing me to remember how great it was with him. With all the sheepish thoughts put aside, I crossed the other lane towards him.

I was getting near him–I surprised myself as to where I got the courage to pursue him. I can’t help it. The alluring scent he emits, slip through my nostrils, arousing that primitive instinct to consume. When I got to him, I held him in my hands quickly, as if everyone is trying to stop me. The feeling is unlike any other–satisfaction, happiness–what I can tell you is beyond words. I took him home, as he was willing to submit.

It took me a few minutes to even accept his presence within my quarters. I took a glance at him while I washed my hands as he lay in bed alone, apparently contented with being immovable. The television blared, then we both thought it would conceal our private noises. Not wanting to prolong anything, I quickly went to him, started undressing him, showing that glowing skin. I carefully removed his red covers, touching his rough yellow skin. I made him vulnerable to me as I pulled parts of him into my mouth, tasting that unique saltiness that almost stung my recent sore. Regardless, I took him inside me, ingesting every bit of his existence to me. One by one, as if limb by limb, I devoured him, taking everything that he could offer until I was finished with him. Despite my dominance, I seemed to smile softly as I registered the taste of flavorful delight and satisfaction that sill hangs on my tongue. I savored the flavor while it lasted.

True enough, he eventually runs out. He is as empty as a finished bowl of ramen. The room felt empty as well, as soon as I realized he was gone in my midst. But at least, I’ll always know where I could find him–downtown. For now though, I’ll stay away for a while, as all unhealthy affairs go. Still, the love he has given me entails a magical and flavorful memory that I’ll always find.

Call it love, call it lust. Call it comfort, call it addiction. But for all I know, he’ll be my one and only, McDonalds French Fries.


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