Reader x Chocolate

Hawt Chocolate

You sneak downstairs one winter night. The January wind taps at your window. You flip on the warm lights; the room glows a golden tone. You open the cupboard, creaking with each motion. You take an attractive bar of dark chocolate. It is beckoning your loins as we speak.
"What r u doing step chocolate" you whisper faintly, as not to attract attention from your family up the stairs who do not accept your chocosexuality. You slowly unwrap the chocolate... chocolate looks nervous at first, but is slowly coming to peace.
You now indulge yourself completely within the chocolate. All those square edges 😏 The pointy right angles 😳 That dark, noir shimmer 😩 Breaking up those squares one by one- the succinct, crisp snap of the bar 😼 That bittersweet, crisp bite 🤤 my chocolate always knows how to please me 😏 The cold, snapped bar slowly melting into your tongue 😳 Fingering your tastebuds with it's luxurious, exhilarating flavor.
The chocolate slowly liquifies and coats every single surface of your mouth. Your tongue reaps it's bounty from the roof of your mouth. You restrain yourself from biting, because you know it's better to savor the flavor. "Maybe just a little bite," you say
"Don't use your teeth," the chocolate says. Chocolate's wish is your command... so you don't bite. Instead, continue sucking the melting chocolate bar.
Once the bar has morphed into a malleable clay press of chocolate, you rub it all across your genitals... wait what
Yes.
The acidic liquid of the Hershey's creeps into your urethra.. it ignites your sexual organs, feeling like a great burning fire. But not a fire as bright as the burning fire in my heart's passion for you, O Chocolate.
The smoke from this fire spreads across your body. Your insides are being bathed in a wonderful stew of chocolate mush.. in your stomach and your baby glaze factory. And in your mouth of course.
Your saliva slowly eroded the chocolate residue from your mouth. You look down, and no chocolate remains.

You weep.

A great wail is heard from every home, every city. The lament of your actions which have caused your chocolate lover to depart from you. Consumed in passion, you consumed your own lover. Shame! You think! Shame!
"I will remember thee," you say with great dignity and a great conscious. Your self conviction pulls you deeper into a bottomless black pit of depression.

You will never find another
Like the chocolate lover.

-jejrekmek

Why did I write this