Okay. I like to think I try my best to be an honest person. Why hide the truth if it's so plainly obvious?
*sigh* So. Here it is.
Women, I love going down on you.
Perhaps it's the control; to send your body into seizures of pleasure or make you teeter on the very edge of release until you're begging for that one, hard push off the cliff.
Maybe it's the way you react. When I look up into your half-closed eyes from between your tense thighs. When I moan. When I, "Mmmmmmm..." When I tell you how fucking good you taste. When you realize how fucking much I'm enjoying you.
And maybe this is weird, but it seems like it's always different. How I go down on you always changes, and I don't even know until we get there.
Sometimes it's slow and purposeful. You indulge me in taking the time to explore every inch of your flesh, every curve and bend. When I finally reach your lips, you're wet and ready for the banquet, and your fingers twirl gently through my hair as my moist tongue and lips explore your entirety.
Other times, I'm a little fucker. I tease you mercilessly. Tugging your soaked panties down only to pull them back up, my tongue delivering tormentingly soft licks through the fabric, my fingertips trailing up and down your thighs. Then, when I finally relent, and I'm giving you just what you want, you gasp out, "I'm going to cum..." And I stop. You groan and scowl down at me. Then I start again, and the cycle repeats until your orgasm explodes and you nearly crush my head between your legs.
Then there are the times I'm no nonsense. I want to taste you and feel you squirm underneath my lips. Nearly tearing off your pants, not content to wait for you to get wet, I resolve to make you wet. My desire, the focused passion drives you over the edge before you know it, nails digging into my scalp, your breasts, the wall, wherever they can find purchase to steady you in the storm as your hips involuntarily buck upon my face.
And there are so many other variations.
So, yes. I admit it.
Women, I do love to go down on you.