Deleted Member Posted February 22, 2022 Posted February 22, 2022 It's the first thing I do when I get up in the morning; it's the first thing a lot of people do. I stand, my head tilted back in relief, eyes half-closed, listening to stream of wonderful liquid splashing. The stream is dark and pungent in the morning, the smell tart and powerful. I inhale deeply, relishing the scent of this warm nectar. . It has become more than an urge over time--it has become a need: its warmth on my tongue, filling my mouth, coating my tired throat, the lingering taste accompanying me through my day. I speak to people from a distance during the day, or try to cover my mouth. Can other people smell it on my breath? What do they think? I wonder about the odor, the taste--would it be very different if it was someone else's? But I am familiar with my own, and I look forward to the bitter flavor every day. . Finally, the stream finishes. I am relieved. I lean down and inhale the strong fumes; I lean even further and touch it with my tongue. With excitement and secret exultation, I stand alone and take a long slow drink of my . . . . . Coffee. (you pervs! 😅)
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