Vaguely, I’m aware that I’m in my sweats and the plate is still over there, waiting. It’s so yummy and my inner goddess is telling me to go, just go, and put them in my mouth.

My subconscious is on a treadmill, disapprovingly calling me “weak” and a “fatty.” I ignore her and listen to the goddess, dancing to mariachi music now, and make my way to the table.

The chips are hard and salty and rough against my tongue. I gasp as the salsa burns, opening wide even as something deep inside of me clenches, shivering with anticipation. “Oh,” I sigh darkly, “Nachos, I want you inside me. All of you.”

I pick up the rhythm.. chip after chip…lips parted, hot cheese dripping down my face… and it feels so good… I can’t stop. Fuck. Holy fuck. This is wrong, but it’s so fucking delicious.

The plate is a warm gooey mess, and so am I. I suck my fingers clean, one by one, moaning deeply with satisfaction. My insides are swirling with untamed desire, an insatiable appetite awoken. My inner goddess urges me forward, pushing me to the climax.

Every bite is punishing now. I am writhing in my seat, and there is no thinking anymore… only nacho… only me… oh please… NACHO!