Banana-Fanna-Fo-Fammy

His face gets red when he's bested when he knows he's wrong. The voice octaves lower warns me that it is getting to the point. I stand there for what feels like he's just about to spring and I'm thinking about how I know he's leaning in for a barrel into my gut and I like the idea of forcing my fingers into his kidneys or better yet the knee to the jaw. But I walk away just before and he screams louder and lower until his voice strains and I remember again that he's fragile. I remember enjoying getting a couple of good licks in. My fist against smug face crumpled under the weight of me. Top of the thigh connect to the chin at an angle like perpetual orgasm. His skin and blood beneath my nails a sacred experience. I want to take his ear for a souvenir. I'll give him only my blood.