Her slick tongue goes to work lapping and swirling and bathing your nerves in way that somehow expressed more love than lust. She didn’t have any particular routine, instead she just did whatever she felt like and enjoyed your inevitable responses. She behaved as if she were kissing you—pouring every ounce of her being into her leisurely but deliberate movements. Previous experiences seemed to support that idea; if you didn’t move things along, she’d often get lost in her own world and stay fixated on her target.