There is something very delectable and vulnerable at the same time when a woman is lying on her belly. Her neck can be nuzzled and then, a tongue run down her spine – slowly, ever so slowly - to the valley between her cheeks, and if her legs are parted, a hand can be slipped between her thighs to find her vulva and the silky smoothness of her labia that are still sodden with her juices from her recent orgasm.
I use that juice to slide my fingers between Dorothy’s cheeks, circling and pressing against her rosebud with one hand while my other is between her labia, deeper inside her now, waiting for her to relax enough to push my finger past her sphincter so that my fingers can almost meet, separated only by her vaginal wall. I want her wet everywhere, so that when the time comes and Dorothy begs for it, I can penetrate her easily.
But where? How will she signal her preference?
I use that juice to slide my fingers between Dorothy’s cheeks, circling and pressing against her rosebud with one hand while my other is between her labia, deeper inside her now, waiting for her to relax enough to push my finger past her sphincter so that my fingers can almost meet, separated only by her vaginal wall. I want her wet everywhere, so that when the time comes and Dorothy begs for it, I can penetrate her easily.
But where? How will she signal her preference?