I love your cunt.

I love everything about it.

I love the look of it.

I love the feel of it.

I love its sweet aroma, floating to meet me when I go to kiss you there. I love its soft heat, drifting across my cheek like warmth from a distant fire. I love the taste of it. I love to kiss it, to press my lips again and again against that soft, warm hair and soft, warm skin.

I love to kiss it. I love to kiss it all.

I love to look at it.

I love to look at it when you stand, the dark hair a mysterious shadow, the top of the fold just peeking through with all its promise. I love it watch it when you walk, the lips moving ever so slightly with every step, or when you turn and bend, baring it like the sweet halves of the sweetest peach. I love to see it when you lie back and shift a bent knee to one side, just enough that the lips part slightly, like a lover's lips inviting a kiss.

I love to kiss it. I love to kiss it all. I love the feel of it against my lips.

I love to touch it. I love to caress it, to caress the tips of its dark hair with the tips of my fingers, to caress it softly, softly, softly and oh, so slowly. I love to open it, to open you, to my gaze and touch and tongue, to tease a single finger along that hidden groove, to gently so gently part the hair with a touch so light it takes your breath away.

I love to stroke it, to palm it, to tease it, massage it, to play with it, to pet it like a favored cat. To hear you purr. I love to hold it all, cupping your lovely woman's cunt in my hand, feeling its heat, the tender skin, the soft luxury of your pubic hair, the whole of it a soft fire against my palm. I love to dip my finger lightly, like a swallow dipping to a pond, to steal the wetness there. I love to tingle upwards along your sweet pussy's lips to lavish that sweet lubricant around your clit and tease it out of hiding. I love to climb that little mountain with a fingertip, lightly, lightly, then to stroke that finger slowly full length along its tiny peak.

I love your cunt.

I love everything about it.

I love to look at it. I love to look at it when it's opened. I love its pinks and reds, its silvers and corals. I love the way the colors change with heat, how the hot blood engorges the lips and brightens the reds. I love its hood, sheltering its little monk. I love its entrance. I love its petals. I love its folds. It's a flower, a rose, a lily, an iris, a painting by O'Keefe.

I love to kiss it. I love to kiss it all. I love to rub my cheek against it, to brush the top of my head against it, hair against hair, its scent now my scent. To turn again and kiss it, to nuzzle it, yes, to slither a fingertip along the slit and part the hair, then tickle the lips open with my tongue. I love to spread it wider then, to open it like a rose opens to sun and water, to open it to my loving kisses.

I love your cunt.

I love everything about it.

I love its taste. I love to pleasure it, to pleasure you, to make your cunt and its pleasure the center of our universe. Like this. . .

My tongue, just the tip, slides along inner halves of your sweet, sweet peach. It tracks up and up and up to make a circle around your hood, then slides down the length of it with the joy of a child in a park. It runs the ridges of those inner lips, one side then the other, back and forth and up and down. It takes little side trips into the valley below, then circles and slides again and yet again.

That tongue, my tongue, flutters south down your pussy, a butterfly migrating to an exotic tropical home. It finds its destination, a little cavern with its door squeezed tightly shut. It flies about, teasing and flitting all around your pretty anus. Nerve endings light up, come alive. Tiny wet stabs to the opening send little electrical shocks of pleasure through your body. Flutters and flickers and stabs, oh, my, you relax into those exquisite pleasures. I take my time there; it is new to you. You love it. I think I hear you purr.

My tongue drifts back upward, pleasuring the delicate space between your sweet anus and your even sweeter cunt. It reaches that pink palace and pauses to circle around its entrancing door. My thumbs spread the portals; my tongue probes within. I press my mouth to your cunt. I press my tongue inside. It's a short, fat, and oh so nimble penis, this tongue, this tongue in your cunt. It moves in and out, reaching for the interior. It explores the edges, circling and circling and plunging again. My lips cup the whole opening, and rhythmic suction comes into play. Lips and tongue work in unison, lips sucking and tongue fucking that hot cunt, stoking the fire within. The heat builds. Your pussy is so hot, so engorged, so enflamed. The pleasure is unbearable. You have to come, you have to.

Your hands find the back of my head. You pull me tightly against your tight cunt, pressing your desperate pussy's mouth against my mouth. You squeeze your thighs together and thrust your hungry cunt against that probing tongue, squeezing your hot pink lips against my lips, squeezing an orgasm from deep within the high canyon of your cunt. Your pleasure comes as a flash flood in my waiting mouth, a sweet and salty river along my tongue. I drink it in; I probe and thrust and circle and suck.

You thrust back hard. Again you rock your hips and squeeze your thighs and pull my head and press your cunt against my mouth. Another flash flood of pleasure soaks us both. Then again. And yet again. You're riding a wild river of pleasure, a screaming, swirling, dizzying rush through rapids. You shudder with each release, your body twitches in the aftershocks. I feel your cunt spasm, sucking my tongue in deeper. You tremble, relax, the floods subside for the moment. Your thighs part, your hands release my head for the next round of pleasure.

There is a pause; we each catch our breath. Then lips and tongue take a long, slow slide back north. They track along the inner lips, attending to each as they find their way to your yearning clit, hidden, throbbing, anticipating. That equally eager tongue flicks under the hood, finding your clitoris there. You spread your legs wide, spread those upper lips with your own hands. Your clit pops out to play and oh, how we play. My tongue, so smooth and wet and soft and wide, slides full length across your clit then makes the trip again. I flutter the tip against it, fast, fast flutters like a moth caught in your hand. I capture it between my lips, my wet lips that suck your clit like a tiny penis.

Still sucking and licking up above, I tease a finger around your anus, slip it in, slip it out, slip it in again. I slide my thumb into your cunt; thumb and finger, finger and thumb exalt at your openings while my mouth exalts at your engorged clit. One finger, then two, replace the thumb, easing their way into the slickness of your cunt. I slide them in and out, fucking you with my paired fingers. They stretch your pussy open. You groan in pleasured protest, but hold your cunt wide open while I bathe your swollen, aching clit. The fingers curl to caress your G-spot, rubbing and stroking and pressing and stroking some more. And those lips and tongue keep playing their music on your lovely pink flesh like an organist gone mad.

Mouth, hands, hips, tongue, lips, fingers, cunt, clit all play in symphony. You come and come and come.