This is the Black Orchid. Mortals do not understand my level of passion nor my devotion to the God, Eros. I celebrate the senses, and like what is bitter as well as what is sweet. I crush a ripe cherry on my tongue then squeeze a lime in my mouth to negate its taste. I like to drizzle honey between the orbs of a man’s ass, and then lick it up, and ever so lightly bring down the whip like a sudden breeze. It is true I take mortals as my lovers but it is The Minotaur I love, a man with the head of a bull. Lady Lynda and Auntie Carol believe love is like the light from behind a cloud. The Minotaur teaches me love’s darkness, pleasure and pain: he loves me with hatred and lust. And yet, I, too, crave the word that will never fall from his cruel lips. The apple that is farest up the tree is always the sweetest and most desirable. CAROL ANN
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