A Christmas Crime
No more chocolates in the Advent calender. Off into the uncharted waters of Advent beyond 24. Chocolate is part of this story.
The tin of Quality Street has slipped it’s lid and chocolates stare lewdly as people pass. ” Take me ” they purr, “You know you want to”
Enrobed in jewel bright colours , crinkle wrapping catches the eye. The fall from grace is quick and furtive.
Two deft actions and the sweet is naked . A moment on the lips and into the bucal space. The tongue guides the sweet silky coating onward, probing for flavour with a nip of teeth.
Meanwhile the wrapper is deftly hidden within the tin.
The first crime of Christmas committed.