A man is a tasty morsel.
- Jan 13, 2012
- Cannibal Heaven
What do you see when you look into the mirror? I stare with lust at the naked man before me. Our eyes meet, dicks rising simultaneously. I salivate as his hands caress his hard belly, his pecs, his face, his butt cheeks. I watch him bite into his biceps. Rip his nipples. Finger his butthole. Punch his nutsac. Grasp his tool, twisting, nails ripping into sensitive dickskin. He flogs his smooth torso, then caresses the hot welts. I feel his love and yearn for his touch. I pant with desire, for I am a narcissist. A sadistic, masochistic narcissist. I crave the man in the mirror. I want to hurt him. I need to feel his hurt.
We have had many sensual sessions, that man and me. He has been bloodied, and I have tasted his blood. Drugs have made his intolerable pain sensually bearable. And memorable for weeks. I see him daily, in many mirrors, staring, beckoning me to return to the big mirror, the naked mirror, the sensual mirror, to savor his beauty, feel his touch, crave his pain, luxuriate in his suffering. I cannot escape his alure. Nor do I desire escape. For the man in the mirror owns me. Controls me. I am his slave.