Drinking to Death
by Blog Gore
Two young sweaty bodies in the throes of passion on top of a water tank of a high-rise rooftop - an inch away from a sheer fall and death. Bodies coloured and illuminated in blue fluorescent light cast by a neon advertising signboard.
He enters her with his tongue – exploring the woman inside her. Slowly, feeding her desires. She moans as he pulls out and bites the inside of her thigh, an inch away from where she wants him. He moves up. His hands replace his tongue. Fingers finding love.
He kisses her. Tongues find each other and dance.
His other hand reaches out, groping in the dark for the knife.
“Are you ready” he asks. “Yes” she moans.
He kneels between her legs and very slowly, he enters her. She feels him inside her. As she moans, he takes the knife and slashes his wrists.
Blood Drops On Breasts.
She closes her eyes and whimpers as he cuts her wrists.
He finds her wrists in his mouth while he takes his to her lips. They drink of each other. The taste of blood and sex – intoxicating the senses as wine never can. They keep stroking and drinking – immune to pain.
They had been planning this for days.
The stars shine down on their bloodied faces. Ruby red coupling with fluorescent blue.
The stars give way to the morning sun. He looks down at them with sadness and hides behind the clouds to curse and cry. Young. Horny. Stupid.