Carolina Reaper

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Tremendous fascination can be found in spices—take capsaicin. While leaving most other living species indifferent, it induces sharp, lasting pain in mammal mucus. Owing to these features, it has found widespread use in agronomy against rodent pests or as doping in equestrian sports. The reason for the pain is because it fits like a key to a lock in the active site of the pain receptors of our nerve endings. The reason for the duration of the pain is that the body’s defense mechanisms fail spectacularly at trying to wash away a lipophilic molecule by thorough rinsing with biology’s preferred solvent: water.A large group of humans have, however, against all rationality, acquired the taste of food that sets the oral cavity ablaze. Rare are those, on the other hand, that find even fulfillment of desires other than purely nutritional from chili peppers.I am humming a merry tune as I pick the last few peppers from their bushy plant. A good pound of the fire-engine-red, shriveled fruit is already in my basket. Never had such a yield. What to do with so much of the scorching produce? No sane person would even dare to go near them, and yet…You once suggested I should try that Sriracha sauce recipe. Finally, I have enough raw material.Back in the kitchen, I whet my Zwilling on the steel, check the sharpness of the blade by shaving a tiny patch of arm hair with it and take out the designated cutting board. It’s red from years of handling chilies of all sorts. Before beginning my work, I slide my hands into laboratory-grade nitrile gloves—my nerve endings already thank me for almanbahis şikayet that—and slide on a pair of safety goggles. Bad experience I’m not overly eager to repeat.It’s all there: a pound of chilies, an entire bulb of garlic, olive oil, white rice vinegar, raw cane sugar, salt. I quickly rinse the knife and cut open the first fruit. Zero resistance. It’s as if the fruit wasn’t there. I briefly marvel at the perfection of the blade.I inspect the inside of the chili. The glistening, oily coating testifies of its quality. A quick peck of the tip of the blade on my tongue is all that is needed to set my mouth on fire. Instant regret mixed with amazement. The familiar sweat outbreak. The instant reaction of the body. Endorphins flooding my senses. Runner’s high, I chuckle.I resume preparing the sauce. The intoxicatingly pungent smell of the more volatile capsaicin derivatives irritates my nose. A delicious aroma of sweet smoked peppers gradually fills the room, along with this caustic, tear-jerking component. I feel my shorts get uncomfortably tight as the spicy blend caresses my nostrils. It’s not the pain itself, rather the anticipation of inflicting the pain on you and how much you revel in it.The mixture now simmering in the closed pot and the fume hood at full throttle for safety reasons, I finally remove the gloves. I keep the goggles on to avoid eye damage when stirring the mixture. Interestingly, the fumes—significantly more volatile when hot—do not irritate the nose too much; it is the lungs that suffer the greatest—and the facial skin.While the almanbahis canlı casino sauce keeps bubbling, I sterilize two jam jars with boiling water. I purée the simmering mixture, add water to correct the consistency and let it boil another five minutes before filling it into the jars. Once they are tightly closed and resting upside-down, I notice the characteristic itching on my fingers. Tiny splashes of sauce are on my hands.Perfect.I wash my hands thoroughly to spread the hotness evenly over my fingers. Everyone who’s tried to cook with sufficiently hot peppers knows washing your hands will only distribute the capsaicin more evenly.Tentatively, I try to gently touch my eye with my pinky, which is met with immediate protest by my lacrimal glands. It hurts just right. Not too much, just that soft, yet stinging and lasting pang which gets followed by a pleasurable feeling of heat; just the way you like it. I lick my lips with that tongue still on fire from licking the knife, covering them with the ardent substance too.Contently, I finally remove the goggles. Despite the urge, I don’t go to the toilet, not before I’ve given in to your succulent cravings. Even just holding my cock now would inflict searing pain. Also, the anticipation of what’s coming has me far too erect.Lying half on your belly, you wait for me, gently snoring away, one leg stretched, the other bent, forming a right angle displaying the crotch of your panties below your nightie that has slid up to your butt. That delectable, fleshy butt of yours…I climb on the bed. I run my hand over almanbahis casino your stretched thigh. I kiss your butt cheek. You stir a bit; a gasp of surprise, followed by a bemused hum—the siren’s awakening to my ears. Slowly, you roll flat on your belly, spread your legs to give me better access to your honey pot.I slide the hem of your nightie further up, move the pantie’s crotch aside. Your bewitching smell. I sigh in lust before I proceed. Just a light touch first; no need to shock you with the heat. Not just yet.In response, you wiggle your butt, trying to get my fingers to caress you more, unaware of the sensation that awaits you. A frustrated whine is soon replaced by a moan of comprehension as the burning slowly sets in at the spots where you managed to get my fingers to touch you.You turn around, grab me at the collar of my shirt, pull me in. The kiss, spiced with chili, is dripping with lust. You want more—nay, need more!—of the fire that I’ve now transmitted to the full lips framing that pretty mouth of yours too. Your tongue actively seeks the flames while my fingers holding the ingredient you crave trace your labia teasingly.Your nectar flows abundantly when I allow my middle finger to search for your entrance and slowly slide it from there to your clit. First, you moan from the pressure, then, as the temperature rises to unprecedented spikes, a cry of blissful agony follows. You hug me tightly, try to get more fingers to apply the source of your pleasure to your kitten.Each of my laggard strokes is met with the same reaction as before. Your increasing volume spurs me on to apply more pressure, use more fingers. You rock your hips in unison to my digits until I allow the tip of my middle finger to probe the very outlines of your cave. Small circles around it prolong the agony of your mixed sensations.

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