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In life, everyone has their hunger pangs, that irresistible, sudden
need to feast. And more often than not, these cravings for a morsel
come from the aroma of our most prized sources of nourishment,
be it some type of meat, a particular sweet, we all have that certain
something which makes our stomach growl and mouths water.
The case is no different for Alicia, the prideful, well-restrained member
of the Guardian's harem. With her ability to refuse her base desires
being stronger than most, at the same time this resistance turns her
into a time-bomb of sorts, as the longer she denies her cravings, the
more they well up within her until just the right opportunity happens
to break her hold on herself, and pushes her to satiate her starvation.
Though others grow addicted to food of a different sort, the type of
meal Alicia denies herself comes not in the form of what you'd find
on a platter, but instead a morsel dwelling within that of her chosen
mate. And as her resistance weakens, she turns into a creature no
different than a snake in the wilds, and sneakily makes her way to
the source of her desires.
Just like a hunter invading the den of its prey, she pushes herself
toward her goal like a serpent intruding upon a nest, nudging her
way about while tasting the thick and musky scent of her target
under the stuffy sheets she slithers beneath, until finally reaching
the source of the delicacy making her body burn, and likewise her
stomach cry out.
First going for the part of her mate that offers a particularly succulent,
bitterly sweet treat, her tongue lashes and stuffs his hole, savoring the
taste as though it was an apple coated in salty caramel, feasting on
it until the flavor fades, its twitching surface lapped up like a piece of
candy before turning her attention to her primary target.
Tantalized by the thick scent of masculinity wafting from his manhood,
she proceeds to cradle his sack like a pair of eggs in her maw, her fangs
brushing their surface like shells which stored the nutrition she so
desired, coating them in her salacious saliva, her starvation mixing
with her lust as her cravings multiply with each lick of their delicate
and saggy form, their heftiness a sign of the rich meal stored within.
Eventually the predator sets her final target, locked on with a focus
so sharp it could pierce that of metal. Putting all of her skill solely
into the purpose of giving pleasure for the sake of forcing out the
delicacy within her mate, she draws his length into her maw and
fondles him with her lengthy tongue, gripping it almost vice-like
in its coil to ensure a smooth glide between her fangs as they brush
along its sides, locking it in place as she bobs and twists.
Eventually, her mate gives her the nutrition she preyed upon, and
like yolk bursting free, she savors the hot, creamy substance as it
sticks and oozes within her maw, letting out a hiss of satisfaction
from a hunt well performed as her stomach fills with the bitter,
yet subtly sweet contents of her mates retracting sack as it pumps
its contents down to the final drop, the predator refusing to stop
her attack until they reach the brink of shriveling.
This is the instinct of a man-eater, a creature who attacks with
the precision of a thread through a needle, and feasts until
nothing remains of her prey, or rather, in this case, within him...