<sup><strong><span class="bbc_u">Salonika</span></strong></sup><br/><br/>Ritual mistress of the tantric mysteries.  with unspoken mastery.    Salonika would weave the energies generated from the most primal place, those of creation.  Tapping into those energies.   As she performs a ritual of divining.    Calling forth the seed of her partner.   To taste and know of what if any thing that lies ailing him.   For the seed could not lie.<br/><br/>Her hips rolled with slow sensual erotic rhythm.  As she grinds onto the tongue of Francis.    Which heats and fuels her strength to tap into the energies that have begun to form around them.  Unseen by those that have not the sight.  They are felt though by all.   As the climax, the pinnacle of those energies suddenly coming together and exploding in a tantric exlosion of pure delight.  Is nothing more then the blissful heaven of release and orgasm.<br/><br/>Her tongue bathed over the thick throbbing cock of his.   The quiver and pulse of his cock.  She could sense his nearness.  Soon she would taste of his seed.  His sweet seed, that is the life of him.   No power, no other thing held so much power within.  For with out the seed.  There would be no life blood.   Her efforts redouble,  as the walls of her mouth quiver in vibration from her endeavor of sucking him off.