Is there anything more erotic, more atisfying, more – mere words fail me – than going down on a woman, eating hair pie, giving her head, having a box lunch, performing oral sex, eating her out, etc.? I think not.
What is more the essence of sex than a woman’s vagina? The source of her pleasure, home of the clitoris, center of her sexual universe? Nothing, in my opinion.
All roads lead to the vagina, do they not? Look at a lovely woman. On the street, in the mall, at work – anywhere. Her abundant hair, alluring eyes, soft full lips. Follow down the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the strength of her stomach. When you hit the center of her body, right between her beautiful legs, you’ve hit the center of her being.
Or start with her delicate feet. Strong enough to carry her for a lifetime, yet supple enough to massage and fondle. Also, by the way, often cold enough to freeze whatever they touch under the blankets! Move your eyes up those shapely calves to the curve of her thighs and roundness of her tush, and there it is again, the Bermuda Triangle, mysterious and unknown.