Her
nipple softens, and it occurs to her that he has been so long at its worrying
Brother Skunk might no longer know what it is he is doing, his body vacated of
all save the tongue’s own perpetual momentum rendering her nipple insensate,
her self dead to the nipple. His teeth gently crush at the flesh, but even this
she comprehends as from a distance, the sensation one of pain remembered as
opposed to experiencing pain here in the present tense.
ache1:
Christ Skunk, I wish I had some milk to give you.
