The slow dance of a woman in want began. Her hips hovered an inch above my face when she said, “Comfort your head, in between moments of pure bliss, as my nectar drips down your chin.  For I shall grind your face upon the throne of my desire, delighting in your beard.

“Catch my pearl with your teeth, feel the pleasure of my royal brush. Let me seduce you into that mesmerizing hypnotic trance caused by the friction of my dancing hips

“Allow your mind to feast and your tongue to savor, in the swallow of my appease.”