Vanishing Pleasure

The smell of deep, red wine is on her lips. The clear glass presses at her mouth as the warm liquid runs down her throat with a slight burn that reminds her of a passion mixed with pain. Her head falls back as she releases herself to the pleasure of drink flowing with blood. It consumes her body as if it were a lover whom she is given over to, and as quickly as a lover pushes pleasure through her veins, it vanishes.