Rum Cake Rhumba

It was near the stroke of midnight when; ping — cakes are done! I could not very well rush to my cousin’s house for mine so I responded, “okay, come morning, I will reach.”

My taste buds lit up, imagining the rich, warm, buttery, rum-and-fruit-filled delicious goodness on a plate in front of me.

Understandably, I dreamt of cake.

Unable to collect it until late into the next day; no fault of mine. The hours felt rather long.

But that evening, as dusk settled in, Venus stood in the dark sky, winking at me, telling me she was going to share in this pleasurable experience. I removed the cling wrapping and inhaled deeply the scent of love.

Your girl broke off a piece of the crispy cake edge and placed it in her mouth — orgiastic.

I. Trudie Palmer One Love

*First story here