It had been messy. Red was everywhere- the counter, the floor, the walls- and the sweet smell the thick redness released made me want to eat it’s entity at that exact moment. I only let myself get a small taste, that which had remained on my weapon of choice, but the thought of it tasting better when it was done cooking was nearly orgasmic.
I collected everything in a pan, careful not to spill even a drop, and spread it evenly. Looking at the moist surface I had just prepared glistening beneath the stained light bulb I was hit with a sense of awe, the aesthetically pleasing smoothness and thoughts of my past and future pleasure left me feeling euphoric. The oven beside me dinged, signaling it was finally preheated. After placing my creation in the oven at 350 degrees, I licked the excess redness from the bowl. Oh god, it was wonderful. I was torn, wishing I had left more but knowing I would have regretted it later.
As time dragged on and on I recalled the struggle of the time prior- running around almost all day, following and waiting, silently begging for my time to shine when I finally got what I wanted. I had almost missed it, too, the loud bangs and miscellaneous noises calling attention of others as I furiously tried to hide the evidence of my mistake. If anyone had seen I would have been in great trouble- something I was not a stranger to.
After an excruciating amount of time, the oven finally dinged. The intoxicating smell now filled my entire house, and I was completely unable to escape from it. Saliva threatened to drip down my chin, but each time I caught it I'd swallow it down, not wanting to make a bigger mess of the kitchen. I needed to eat my grand morsel, and I needed to now.
The steaming surface stained crimson nearly brought tears to my eyes. Baked to perfection; just waiting to be decorated. Finally, after all my struggling, it was ready.
I became so desperate I nearly dug in right when I placed the scalding pan on the counter, straight from the oven, but I feared I'd burn my tongue and not be able to fully enjoy the flavor I’d worked so hard to acquire. So, in mocking agony, I waited.
Finally, finally, when my morsel was cool enough, I took out my spatula and decorated the fluffy mass accordingly. Besides, a meal of this sort deserved to be decorated. It was now ready to eat, so I cut off a big chunk immediately. The thick, velvet morsel spread through my mouth, sliding down into my stomach as I shoved much as I could into my mouth for the next bite.
God, I love cake.