Pasta By Cheese Lord
You loved every minute of it.
You loved every minute of biting into the warm, fresh skin.
You loved it how the delicious, hot flesh seemed to expand once you sunk your venomous, lustful teeth into its meat.
You loved it how you descended on it with your knife, cutting and slicing and dashing and hacking and spewing its juices all about your vicinity as you watched the dead slab of meat sizzle, scorching hot as your lips curled into a thin, satisfied smile, your mouth burning for more.
You brought down your knife again, slicing another piece of flesh clean in half, spewing a dark red, liquid substance all over your clothing, lapping up the remaining substance with utter delight, your clothing absorbing it as you continued to bite down into the sizzling fat, licking up every last chunk of edible meat on the dead pile.
You looked down at your half eaten prey, not yet satisfied. You were still hungry. Licking your lips in anticipation, you swooped down again, hacking off one final piece of flesh from it, before you ravenously and greedily shoved the remaining slab down your throat, biting and cutting and gnawing the dead hell out of the prey, your filthy lips, teeth, and tongue becoming soaked with red liquid, dripping and oozing down your chin as you coughed up a few chunks of flesh.
You were satisfied. The deed was finally done, and you let out a filthy belch, suckling the remaining liquid from your fingers. You enjoyed every minute of it.
You fucking sicko. You enjoyed every minute of it.
You enjoyed every minute of devouring that delicious fancy sirloin steak at Louie's Restaurant, complete with a lovely topping of ketchup, and a side order of marvelous crispy french fries.