Vore mange mon collègue

You have arrived to my home, sipped on the tea I offered you. You feel weak, relaxed, like your made of noodles. I lean in opening my mouth and begin to swallow you. You see my teeth, my tongue, you slide further my uvula dangles over you and darkness below. You have slid into my belly, my now big bloated belly. I explain to you the process of devouring you for all your masculine power, strength and manhood. I tease you a bit sexually because a hard did is much more satisfying and filling. You have become my pray. Ate you right up.