Not Everyone's Cup Of Tea

It's not the act I crave
It's the intimacy.
The buzz that fills my brain,
Silencing the voices
Of condemnation.
Head thrown back,
Eyes closed,
I await the moment;
The heat, stench, bitter taste.
Every fibre of my being
Yearns for the heart-stopping
Exquisite naughtiness
That powers through me,
Empowering me
To raise a finger to convention
By indulging in acts
Deemed too disgusting to contemplate.
The first golden droplets hit my skin,
Blistering warmth burning into me
Like a welcome brand.
Heart racing I anticipate the flood
Drowning me, making me choke
On draughts of bitterest pleasure.
Wait...wait...screaming out my ecstasy
I greet the cascade with open mouth.
It engulfs me,
Burning my throat
With tainted deliciousness.
Nostrils flare at the acrid odour,
A treasured delicacy
Too rarely sampled.
Rivers of gold criss-cross my skin,
Yellow diamonds that sparkle
Upon flesh quivering with delight.
A pungent pool forms around me
As desperate for more
My prone body crumples,
Lapping kitten-like,
Each delicious drop devoured
Causing spasms of ecstasy
Evoked by the mind alone.
Exhausted, satiated, I rest.
Soon I will clean myself,
Remove all evidence
Of my depravity,
Return to normal existence
And blend in perfectly.