The taste of a woman

I can’t deny it. Ever since the very first time I tasted another woman’s cunt, I have been in love, not just with that particular flavour, but with the whole experience of going down on another woman.

There is something so very beautiful about being between another woman’s legs as she opens up for me, as I run my tongue along and between her labia, tasting her and sharing her pleasure.

I love sensing her warmth as I approach. I love the scent of her sex. I love how she reacts as I bring my lips to hers and part them with my tongue; her reactions, so similar to my own and yet so unique as well.

And then there is the flavour of her on my tongue; and the way it changes, becoming richer as her arousal mounts.

I love the lingering taste of her on my lips, long after we’ve finished, parted, returned to our own lives; a sweet memory of the experience.

There is something so intensely intimate about putting my mouth to an other woman’s most sensitive flesh that has, in my opinion, no direct equivalent when I am with a man; even when I am sucking his cock.

When I lick another woman, she is sharing something of herself with me; not just those lovely rich juices that flow so readily from her, but something almost spiritual that I can’t quite explain. In the moment of her release, as her essence floods over my tongue, coating my lips, covering the lower half of my face, I feel a part of her in a way that I never feel when I am “joined” with a man at the moment of his particular rapture. I’m not a religious person, but for me, that moment when my tongue drives her over the edge, and she coms hard against my mouth, is something akin to a spiritual experience.

Yes, I love the taste of a woman.