Sun-Bred and Sizzling
An Ode to Men
He is a *Glencairn of decently aged bourbon, tawny and mahogany. Every sip of him leaving the lips to rub and moisten, the tongue to smack savoring droplets of him that remain. He is smooth, slow, and high proof packing.
Made of sun, one sip torches you from tongue to toes. Smolder. Absorbing the smoke of his barrel chest, the hardness, the chiseled edges of pectoralis, latissimus, abdominal, and serratus. Hissing. Your breath intake as you behold the orbed mound briquettes of his gluteous. Sizzling. The hot torch blazing between his massive oak thighs.
The sweetness of him warming and tingly on the tongue. Dancing down the esophagus, slow flame into the gut.
He is wood. Hardened on the outside, sappy, sticky, and sweet on the inside. He is sun. Radiant, bright, and powerful beaming rays of growth to all. He is a Glencairn of decently aged bourbon to tip, to sip, to smolder through your soul by lip.
- Credit for the italicized phrase goes to my partner, NJT.
Visual representation of the story on @tolbert_on_medium Instagram.