Crystal tongue crease the grace of crystal meth. A crystal tongue, as transparent as a rock of the purest crystal that you never wanted to suck into your veins and feel it glide, cold and steel-death stinking like a sharp steel-death reeking hammer of humor on your timpani membrane. Membrane stretched and worn and thin and ready to dry up, crack, flake away and die a death of steel-death crystal.
She slipped her crystal tongue into my mouth – I felt her force it between my lips, over my teeth and float over my tongue – my hot, wet, fleshy tongue, swollen and full of blood. Hard and forceful it shot to the roof of my mouth, and her crystal tongue pressed hard against it – starting at the back, so far that I thought she would force her tongue down my throat and the gag reflex would make me cough up the pork burrito and vomit it into her, but she began to withdraw that crystal tongue, slickly riding the roof of my mouth up to the crest behind my front teeth. She sank her teeth into my lower lip and I felt the warm trickle of blood down my chin. The crystal tongue was long gone by then – just a memory and a steel-death crystal-stink lingering in my nose and on my palate.
I watched her lick my blood from her lips, her blesséd blue lips, smeared and stained and purpled like the sacrificial USDA inspector's stamp of blue ink on the pink of a side of fat – her crystal tongue was cold as death, cold as a corpse, cold as the grave, and she moved it from side to side and across her lips with precision, with sexual power full to overflowing. Her crystal tongue never stained – it was cold and clear and unblemished.
“Give me your crystal tongue,” I whispered, longing to taste that crystal-death again. “Give me your crystal tongue and let it glide over my veins, let it slip into my mouth, let it slip into my heart. Fill my dying heart with your crystal-death saliva, let me bathe in your crystal tongue saliva. Wash me and soak my skin clear through to the bone with my blood and the saliva from your precious, precious crystal tongue. Soak me through, leave me wet.
The crystal-death crystal tongue goddess drew close again and slipped that crystal tongue between my lips and past my teeth and down my throat. Like cold death-steel the crystal tongue forced down through my throat and into my heart; through my heart and pierced my stomach. Intestines were forced away and that cold crystal tongue burst through my groin and I screamed and I cried and I shouted not to stop but my cries were muffled by the cold crystal tongue of steel-death crystal stink forced through my throat and heart and my heart poured out and I bled and bled and bled and my saliva-soaked heart and hair and eyes and lips were torn and pierced and rendered lifeless, lifeless, lifeless.
Cold crystal-death crystal tongue of crystal meth crystal stink pulled out of my lifeless, bloody, saliva -soaked body. She licked my lips, my face, my heart, my groin. Licked my juices and the reeking pancake-batter filth from my legs and my hips. The crystal tongue was clean as the day it was born, clear and crystal pure as the crystal formed in a white, white laboratory, spied upon by hearts so cold, minds so fine.
I grew stiff and cold; stinking and filthy. The crystal lets the light shine right through; the crystal makes the world never grow old. And the saliva soaked corpse never rots but dies to life, a membrane stretched and worn and thin and ready to dry up, crack, flake away and die a death of steel-death crystal.
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