You’re on your knees, servicing your Goddess. She’s cooing, gently petting your head, whispering praises interspaced with tiny moans that flutter around your chest. You’re doing that. You’re extracting those sweet sounds from Her and She sounds so good and She’s telling you you’re doing such a good job as fingers card over your scalp. You could die here happy. Nothing could ever top this.
And then She’s breathing faster. Her legs clench and tremble around your head as Her words turn to whispers and Her moans turn into whines. And then you truly experience divinity.
Sweet nectar pools around your tongue as the world around you spins. Taste buds prickle and jolt, sending little spasms throughout your body. Thoughts and desires and chemicals in your brain combine into a single goal, a single word:
Lapping at every crevice you can find, tongue working its way to map out the surface of Her, discovering the deposits of liquid you so desperately crave. Other senses are dulled so you can focus solely on the task before you. Eyes are shut, ears are muffled, smell and touch and taste and Taste and TASTE.
Just as the remnants of the divine flavor are washed out of your mouth, your actions are rewarded with another burst of it. It coats your tongue, and you almost reel from the intensity. The anchors at the sides of your head keep you in place, forcing you to experience the sensations that make your head foggy and dizzy. You certainly can’t complain.
A strong yanking force at the back of your neck forces you away from your home. A whine keening from your throat as your other senses are forced back to the front, eyes blinking rapidly and focusing on the sight of Her. Sweat covering Her hair and body, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, eyes blown out. The word perfection floats around your mind, and you swat it away. She keeps proving it to be an understatement, after all.
And finally, interrupting your musings and reverence, She speaks with a haggard voice and a wry smile.
Quite the greedy one today, sweet pet. Well, I can’t let a good deed go unpunished, can I?
She doesn’t wait for a reply, as Her hands choose a riding crop among the many instruments displayed on the wall.
Now, prostrate yourself, pet. Allow me to show you my appreciation.
Even after the first impact, your mind is only filled with the desire to taste Her again.