I saw her body for what it was, her tender skin, her juicy rump- a hunk of meat.
While others longed to caress her soft curves,
I simply wanted to lather her in my juices and stick her body in my conventional oven.
Pull her out, her skin burnt to a crisp like after those long days we used to spend at the beach.
I consider myself the ultimate feminist.
I never saw her as an object, to be used for my selfish, sexual desires.
To me, she was a filet mignon.
Cooked to perfection, pink in the middle, seasoned with a dash of salt and pepper.
Before she even entered the room, I smelled her perfume.
My mouth salivating, yearning for a taste.
But when her eyes met mine, I realized that I was the real prey.