The show was exquisite. Her flowering attracted him like a moth to the flame, her floral arrangement pulling him in. He jumps back into the water, wading over to her. Standing next to the lilypad, the water didn't even reach his waist, so the lilypad was like a ‘desk’ that he stood before, with Venecia spread out upon it.
But she had lowered her legs now, and her skirts had fallen around her, such that he couldn't quite see what he wanted. Only her forelegs escaped her long skirts.
He lifted one of her yellow slippered feet, and kissed it. The 'anther' of her floral display.
Her slipper is basically a thin sock, and had a pleasant 'footsie' smell to it. That must be the pollen, that lives on the anther. He sniffed them a bit, the same as the bee that arrives on a flower’s anthers, to collect its pollen. The birds and the bees, like men, all chase the flower. It’s all about sex.
These days, even kids know about the birds and the bees. They watch them get the honey. They watch their stingers go in the flower. It’s life.
Tomek’s teeth took hold the hem of her sock, and pulled it off. If you strip a girl, it’s best to use your teeth. Sink your fangs into her garments and rip them off, when you need her bare. In this way, he could better sniff her feet, lick her arches, and suck each toe until he heard a little gasp.
~
In her trance deep state, she felt this. The Sun God had kissed her!
~
Long Legged Lovely
Slowly, he began kissing his way up her legs. First, her forelegs, with the faint, soft, silk hairs there had drops of dew, or sweat, which again he thought of as her pollen, and licked off. Then he kissed his way up the outsides of her legs, almost as far as her hips, because a lady will let you kiss the outsides, a lot more readily than the insides.
But then he returned to her forelegs, and began slowly kissing his way up the interior. Ahh, the long and winding road to a woman's heart.
Up her golden colonnade. Her legs are long, golden petals, whose purpose was to enclose and protect her prize, her delicate pink rose. He could feel the tenseness in her legs, as he moved up, inch by inch, kissing here, licking there, so he took plenty of time, to warm them, disarm her. Kissing with a great reverence, as if they were the legs of a great sleeping Goddess.
His tongue was like a long tiger’s tongue, lapping and licking her clean, until she shined with wetness like a goddess should shine. He is the pious supplicant, slowly advancing on the Holy pilgrimage, to the Goddess's altar, placing spiritual kisses on all along the hallowed, golden thigh road.