Worship.

It has been a long time since someone licked my pussy. It’s been a minute since tongue tasted clit and slipped between swollen southern lips. The thought of having my legs spread wide, lifted high over shoulders or bent with my ass in position to be tossed with tongue and thumb is what I crave. Or maybe stretched across the dining table, panties pushed to the side or torn by strong hands and dinner is served. I want to place wet and ready pussy firmly on dry and eager face; easy access for slippery entry into my funhouse.  Tongue stroking, finger fucking, showers cascading all over a parched mouth in seek of hydration. I want to be teased; tongue entertaining a throbbing clit. I want to be turned on; lips blowing kisses on puckered lips. I want to be penetrated; no penis allowed. I want my pussy to be massaged. Whether it’s slow firm deep full finger length strokes or fast juicy finger tip stroking; fingers moving in sync with my body. My pussy needs to be orally stimulated; vocally aroused; stroked like a Baby Grand; strummed like a Gibson; caressed till I purr like a stray kitten in heat. I manifest someone to organically awaken my yoni; recite love languages to my holy temple; worship this universe with my legs wrapped around his neck.