Daddy Long Stroke

See. Pussy eatin’ is an art. It’s like paintin’ the perfect portrait, feel me? It’s all in the brushstroke—or, in this case, the tongue-stroke. See, it’s all ’bout technique. When a muhfucka like me has his head between a bitch’s legs, I’m puttin’ in work. I’m aimin’ to bring her the greatest, most intense orgasm she’s ever experienced. And I do it by usin’ my mouth, tongue and fingers—simultaneously and alternately. The first ten minutes, or so, I’m teasin’ her. I’m kissin’ and lickin’ her hips, her legs, her inner thighs. Then I slowly begin lickin’ her pussy lips—right side, left side…mmmph, damn. Then I lick her clit, flickin’ it wit’ my wet, long tongue before circlin’ my tongue ’round the edges of her asshole. Seein’ that sweet brown eye pucker up in excitement turns me the fuck on, word up. And the more turned on I am, the more turned on she’s gonna be.

Fuck what ya heard. Tongue-fuckin’ is sumthin’ a muhfucka should take pride in when doin’ it. Just like I expect a broad to handle this dick like she loves it, I expect the same shit from myself when it comes to eatin’ her pussy. I make love to that shit wit’ my mouth, lips, and tongue, eatin’ it like there’s a chocolate-covered cherry stuck dead in the center of her pussy. And the only way to get to that sweet muhfucka is by mountin’ ya wet mouth ’round it, then plungin’ ya tongue deep in it, lickin’, lappin’ stickin’, and flickin’ that hole ’til she starts buckin’ them hips up. See. A nigga like me is a greedy pussy eater, real talk. I ain’t tryna stop ’til a bitch’s walls start to shake, her asshole starts to ache, and she’s chantin’ to a higher power. That’s when I slowly slip these big-ass fingers in her, swirlin’ ’em ’round the inside of her cunt, pressin’ up on that G-spot while I’m suckin’ on her clit. I don’t care how long it takes, I’ma make sure she gets hers. And when her breath quickens, her body quivers, and her moans escalate, I start wildin’ out on the pussy—suckin’ and lickin’ her clit like a frantic, crazed-ass muhfucka ’til she nuts all over my tongue, hard. Then I ease up over top of her, slip my tongue in her mouth so she can taste her creamy juice on it, while I’m slidin’ this dick up in her. And by the time I’m done slayin’ her wit’ this wood, nine-times-outta ten, the bitch done forgot her name and address, done tossed me the keys to her whip, or done begged me to move in. So be clear. If a muhfucka like me is tongue-fuckin’ you, you best believe it’s ’cause you either got sumthin’ I want, there’s sumthin’ I need for you to do, or there’s sumthin’ I know I’ma get from you in the future. Otherwise, no extras are comin’ at ya. I’m straight-dickin’ you and that’s it.

So, to my niggas who eat pussy: keep ya tongues wet, playas. And to those lame cats who act like they scared to taste the pussy, or who can’t eat no pussy: You’se some whack-ass muhfuckas, word up! Get ya minds right, my niggas, and step ya tongue game up ’fore another muhfucka takes ya spot, real talk.

Nah, hol’ up! I ain’t sayin’ e’ery ho deserves to have her pussy eaten ’cause some of these broads out here are straight nasty. That’s why a muhfucka gotta use some discretion. But for the ones who keep that pussy lookin’ right and feelin’ right, a muhfucka gotta learn to let it do what it do, feel me? ’Cause trust me. I’ve had plenty of bitches drop major paper, or lace a muhfucka wit’ some wears, after I done served ’em a night of tongue lickin’, followed up wit’ a pussy beatdown wit’ this long-ass dick.

Like this trick I got holed up in my room right now. Shakeeta’s her name; a brown-skinned cutie from Irvington—wit’ a lil’ waist and one hundred and forty pounds of ass ’n titties. And, of course, she’s a ho I met offa Myspace. We been fuckin’ off and on for ’bout three months now, and she’s already sucked down my dick and swallowed my nut ’bout eight times. And I’ve fucked her ’bout three. Now, she’s actin’ like she’s in love wit’ a muhfucka. But tonight’s the first time I’m givin’ her this tongue treatment. And the only reason she’s gettin’ it now is ’cause she laced a muhfucka wit’ four pairs of 7 For All Mankind jeans and two pair of Gucci loafers for my birthday. Well, it ain’t my actual born day, but she doesn’t know that shit. Yo, relax. Sit tight. I’ll explain later.