Bite Me

You may have noticed, you may have not. But I'm a particularly big fan of biting. Not being bitten, so much. I'm the biter. You would be the bitee. That's how it works.

This occurs nearly every time Od and I kiss.
Come to think of it, I'm sure that it's happened with me and anyone that I've ever kissed.
But my teeth aren't saved for long, soft passionate kisses.
They have a language all their own.
A sharp bite (usually placed on his bicep) warns Od "watch yourself, you're out of line".
A playful nip on the ass is just that - playful.
But lingering tugs on his inner thigh, hip bone, neck, or ear display a desire for more.
Shoulder and wrist bites are the effect of my mouth and teeth clamping down on the easiest accessible body part in order to stifle my sounds of passion.
And nipple biting.........well, that's just for me. I like to do it, regardless of what he thinks. ;)

Bites take the place of words that are sometimes unnecessary and often ineffective.
Animal instinct still plays a big part in how successful we are at dealing with one another.
And with one act - biting - Od has become fluent in my primitive language.
There's a charge of power from every act of biting I perform. I find righteousness, contentment, satisfaction, and yes, arousal from biting.

I just never knew there was a name for it before.