Sunday, 5 August 2012


It started when he gave me the Roses. At the time we were both working at the call-centre. Having found out it was my birthday he had asked around and of course anyone who knew me knew I couldn’t resist a man with a box of Cadbury’s treats.  Now, it seemed, I was in too deep. He was coming round later with a block of 70%. I had the equipment ready.

The first time, it had been my suggestion; he’d stood over me and unwrapped a Flake. I’d tried to catch the crumbling strands on my tongue. Later, as he’d kissed the melted stains around my lips, he’d told me how sexy I looked. 

My weakness had been disclosed and so it appeared had his.

After that we met once a week. Each delicious rendezvous brought something different into our lives. We took it in turns to think up the moves and provide the goods. Love didn’t come in to it, it was pure lust.  

A jar of Nutella which, we spread all over our skinny, white bodies with butter knives, and licked off. Cream Eggs inserted into every orifice. Mars Bars with their rippled, caramel veins. Shared Toblerones that, we would eat at the same time from opposite ends until our noses met. I would suck Whispers to warm goo and feed him by dribbling it into his mouth. I couldn’t walk past Thorntons without my knees buckling. 

He recorded the commercials and edited them so that we had our own growing collection of choc ads; confectionary porn he called it. We would watch them before and after our sessions. 

Last week we’d pushed the boundaries yet again, giving each other hot-chocolate enemas. The exquisite surge of deep, brown heat entering my body had made my legs tremble. Forget the cosy image of sipping cocoa from chunky mugs; this was what the sacred bean had been created for. 

It was as we were loading the washing machine with soiled sheets, that I’d leaned over and whispered in his ear my latest idea, he couldn’t resist.

He arrived at nine with 3 bars. Piece by piece, we broke it into the glass bowl occasionally nibbling a corner. I filled up the saucepan with water and lit the gas. We held hands and watched the dark chunks begin to liquefy, stirring it from time to time with a wooden spoon. Finally it was ready. I slid open the draw, carefully lifted out the syringe, dipped the needle into the rich soup and sucked it up.

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