He says I’m his favorite flavor and his dessert. When John Brownstone’s eating out, he gets his whole face into it. Like he’s starving, and I’m the only one who nourishes him.
His tongue overwhelms and calms, seduces and soothes. I let myself go, fly away on a current of pure sensation, knowing he’s waiting for the real prize — the taste of my pleasure.
Wow, what a shot and how delicious is your explanation! Sounds pretty damn good to me!
Thank you! Delicious is right!