I surfed with my tongue around her body. Boing, boing, that was a shoulder.
Shwups, shwups, surfing down the spine crevice, taking another wave up to her buttocks.
For a split of a second I wonder whether to dive, but decide for a ride on the inner thigh instead. I enjoy the salty taste of this sea, ay ay.
The sea is getting wilder the longer I ride, I tame it: I turn her over submerging my face in her gulf. Smelling, feeling, tasting and listening.
I don't need to see, because I know exactly what to do.