Euphoric recall

She is slender, has a boyish figure – she’s about 5’4″, and her breasts barely fill an A cup. She has a bunch of tattoos, including a big one in the center of her chest where a bigger girl’s cleavage would be. Her hair is brunette, straight, almost shoulder-length. She has a small ass, and a cute, but unremarkable face. I wouldn’t normally turn my head if she passed me.

But her mouth is magical.

Kissing her is an experience unlike kissing any other – her mouth opens, always, just a smidge more than mine, her tongue is always available, soft, wet.  She probes, but doesn’t intrude.  She receives, but doesn’t demand.  She’s perfectly supple, perfectly responsive.

She licks my body expertly, delivering a delicious tickle with her tongue, putting just enough pressure to be felt, but not so much as to be jarring.

She loves my cock.  She sucks on the underside delicately, but fiercely.  She plays with it with her hands, with her fingers.  She holds the balls, caressing them, while she expertly licks and sucks the head.  She knows when to attend to one part, when to attend to another, and when to say, “Fuck it,” and just swallow the whole thing.  She can match my endurance and then some – happily sucking for hours.

I’ve joked with her about giving classes – the two of us could demonstrate forever for a crowd.  She’s never found a partner other than me who can match her endurance, who can tolerate her skills.

She haunts almost every blowjob.

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