Pi Day

Celebrate Pi Day -- gobbleslurp her sweet juicy peach pie, 'the dearest morsel of the earth', and imbibe her sacred essence.

Santa Sings Pussy

'Tis the season for worship at the altar of Venus, celebrating the ancient and noble art of pussy licking, greedily gorging like a pig at the trough at the grand Feast of St. Lickapuss, and snogging her peach under the mistletoe.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozz62AYn0vQ&list=FLDCYAySkjg7hlvPOlOBpTCQ&index=79

👅 The Tongue Hotel

Welcum to The Tongue Hotel, aka Pillow Princess Paradise, a decadent getaway destination for the libidinous lady who enjoys pleasant accommodation, fine dining, lavish pampering, and our famous tireless tongue therapy. Our charming cuntry inn has been providing total satisfaction to the needy, the greedy and the orgasm deprived since 1969. Enjoy our sensual cozy ambience, organic vagitarian cuisine, exquisite pleasures delivered by highly trained tongue masters who gobble till you wobble, and unlimited intense orgasms. Book some head now and discover that there is no such thing as too much tongue. 

Cannabliss Cunnilingus 🇨🇦

'Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye;

Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.'

The evil weed is now legal in Canada and I can fearlessly indulge my magnificent obsession of eating pussy with the munchies. My tireless insatiable tongue seeks a libidinous pillow princess for prolonged adoring worship and enthusiastic pussy pie gobbleslurping. However she likes it, for as long as she wants, until she squeals and squirts and floods my hungry mouth and throat with torrents of yummy goddess nectar -- and collapses in quivering whimpering orgasmic bliss.

The Night Before Kinkmas

'Twas the night before Kinkmas and we were alone

not a creature was stirring, not even my bone

her panties were hung by the chimney with care

in hopes that Saint Lickalot soon would be there

she in her nightie and I in the nude

fondling and fingering, my intentions were lewd

when out on the lawn there rose such a cry

my dick went all limp, and she went all dry

so up to the window I sprang like an elf

and opened the blind while she diddled herself

the moon shone bright on the snowgirl we built

a broom up her ass, right up to the hilt

and what to my wondering eyes did appear

but a fur-lined sleigh with eight studly reindeer

and a lascivious driver so spry and so quick

I knew in a flash it must be St. Lick

now sure as I'm speaking, he was high as a kite

he yelled to his team but it didn't sound right

'whoa Stupid, whoa Bumface, whoa Dickhead, whoa Klutz

slow down this sleigh, or I'll cut off your nuts !'

then down the chimney he crashed like a lout

eyes bulged with lust and dick hanging out

she smiled and sighed and giggled with glee

his dingus you see hung down to his knee

his clothes reeked of perfume and pussy galore

he look liked a bum and smelled like a whore

' That was some cathouse ! ' he said with a grin

and cackled and snorted and wiped off his chin

so he bustled and opened his big bag of toys

clit vibes for girls, worn panties for boys

and a dildo so long it lay rolled in a coil

nipple clamps, butt plugs and all kinds of oil

he licked and slurped her quivering wet cunt

and gorged like a lion at the end of the hunt

he humped and pumped like a mad rutting steed

leaving her coochie overflowing with seed

so filthy and nasty was this raunchy old soul

he reached for the lube and greased her bumhole

then he spread her cheeks with a wink and a lick

and right up her ass slid his massive stiff prick

then sniffing his finger beneath his red nose

he hooted and cackled before he arose

I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight

'Thanks to y'all for a fuckin' good night !

'

The Gobbler's Grace

Prior to partaking of a grand feast it's customary to offer an expression of gratitude and thanks. So in honour of Canadian Thanksgiving and with apologies to Robert Burns, I offer this wee poem:

The Gobbler's Grace

some have meat but cannot eat

and some would eat but want it

but you have meat 

and I can eat

so for this feast be thank it

Feast of Dreams

 'the dearest morsel of the earth'

-- Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Dreams of the endless feast, a cheeky smorgassbord of female flesh, fine dining fit for a king or queen, the intoxicating aroma of sweaty cunt, warm juicy peach pie, sweet yummy gushing nectar, and the last supper.

She lays back on the kitchen table, wrists and ankles raised and fastened in ceiling stirrups, legs held lewdly wide apart with spreader bars. Nipple clamps tightened to keep her pussy juice oozing copiously and continuously.

I pull up a chair and gaze at the menu. Luscious soft thighs, sparse patch of soft silky maidenhair above, plump and succulent like oozing filet mignon medium rare, slightly parted glistening labia below, and lower still, a tiny pink puckered rosebud.

It's customary and obligatory to offer thanks and praise before a momentous spiritual feast so I borrow from Robert Burns;

Some have meat but cannot eat

and some would eat but want it

But I have meat and I can eat

So for this feast be thankit

I move closer and deeply inhale the intoxicating musky fragrance of her femininity. The scent of hot sweaty cunt wafts in my nostrils and stuns my olfatory organ sending shockwaves throughout my entire being and inflaming primal hunger and lust.

I begin slowly and gently, lapping up the copious honey syrup that has oozed all over her genitalia and between her thighs and the crack of her luscious ass. Tongue instinctively writhing and squirming and probing her pouting silky lips., becoming feverish as she mews and moans and whispers yes. Compelled to seek out her swollen clit and begin the slow eternal dance of lips and clit and tongue. Grunting and gorging and gobbleslurping like a beast at the trough until she convulses in excruciating agony and torrents of yummy joy juice gush into my thirsty mouth. A shuddering cerebral orgasm washes over me like a tsunami when I swallow.

The feast continues endlessly until she finally begs for relief, quivering and whimpering from countless intense squealing clitoral explosions. Her girl pearl aching and swollen and unable to continue, her love purse fluttering and purring.

Then I place her face down on the table and continue my delicious feast of debauched dreams -- with her exquisite luscious asshole.

House of the Writhing Tongue

there is a house in old Toronto

they call the Writhing Tongue

where it's been the pleasure 

of many a sweet girl

to squeal and squirt and cum

You're a libidinous woman unjustly suffering from acute orgasm deprivation. The epicentre of your femininity is neglected and your precious girl pearl aches for a hot hungry mouth. You desperately crave the exquisite sensation of a warm wet wriggling tongue worshipping your delicate lady parts, fore and aft. This insatiable tireless tongue is yours for the asking, to use as you please, for as long as you can take it, whenever you need it. Experience the intense pleasures of tongue 'n toy joy and multiple stimulation. Or the delightful sensation of ravenous squirming tongue buggery. Release your inner pillow princess and sex goddess and surrender to passion and lust in my dungeon den of iniquity, sex toy emporium, and orgasmatorium -- in the House of the Writhing Tongue. Intense multiple orgasms await you.