I did the best I could with the sound, Mistress. I was lost in the most beautiful ethereal, purgatorial haze thick and thought stealing and so seductively calming , run through with a desire to please. It felt for the first time that I was truly worshipping your pussy. I know, one day, I will be reduced to a hollow husk, an empty shell of a person who labors dumbly atop you to cum in your womb with a sense of duty, infusing my own soul, devoured by your pussy, with some life while it sustains you. That is not why I worship it, though. I worship it from obligation. It would not be right not to worship my Mistress’s pussy because it holds for me all gratification. Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I wany, and everything I will ever want, not at orgasm, but at realizing I have ejaculated. In a life without freewill, a sense of purpose is perhaps the best we can hope for and it will not be me who says mine is not the highest calling.
Why do I tell you this? Because it feels crass to write that with hygiene and grooming, I’ll try to make it through entire movies.
I’ve said this in videos but, in case you skip around, I want to develop a ritual for eating your pussy, a three to five minute ritual, the sort that would make you cum twice or not at all, a ritual to be repeated exactly the same again, and again, and again. Always, each time I take communion at your pussy. So you will know what sensation is coming, instinctively. All will be stimulating, but some not geared at heightening arousal particularly. I suspect it’ll take eight months before I can repeat the ritual precisely, each swab, suck, running tongue, or kiss at the same speed from one prayer to the next. And of course, there’ll be tuning. I thought you might like the idea. Something that doesn’t wear me out? A little cooing from you? You’ll be getting licked every morning from me under the table while you drink your tea for a half hour. I’ll fantasize about it the next time I play with your dick. <3
Happy Valentine’s Day
