I don’t want you eating me if you don’t want me on your fingers. Eating a flaming cheeto should be an intimate experience. You crave me; I want to be inside of you. You put me in your mouth and I let you experience me: my hard body, the pleasurable pain on your tongue. If you can’t handle my orange red stain, you don’t deserve my delicious aftertaste. If you don’t want to lick my essence off your fingers after touching me, then you don’t really love me – you’re just a slut.