Heat Wave: Colorado Springs

Heat Wave: Colorado Springs By Michael P. Thomas This was his first time, but he knew at once it would not be his last. He had friends who couldn’t get enough of it; they’d practically begged him to try it, and when the opportunity presented itself here in the park he figured, What the hell? It was longer than he expected, and so meaty; salty and fragrant, with a tongue-prickling tang. He tried to ease into it, with little licks and nibbles, but he found he couldn’t resist the urge to gobble at it, inch by inch, until, to his surprise and delight, he had the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head as he slurped and moaned. Hard as he tried to savor every splash of sticky-sweet runoff, rivulets trickled out—he got some on his shirt, he had it all over his chin, and he was pretty sure some had splattered into his hair, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He knew it was piggish, but as soon as it was over, he craved his next. Any dude who’d never had one of these in his mouth was definitely doing it wrong. His friends were right: This rib from Bone Lickers was far and away the best barbecue he’d ever eaten.