Nothing but her tongue

Though nothing but her tongue moves, hear them sigh;
The way it slides: just speculate how well
A chit, who's trained on fingers, can just tell
The way to lick the girls and make them cry;
Long hours, since the dawn, have passed them by,
For both of them are engrossed and will quell
The urge to move or reach out for some gel:
A pity, since they both have toys to try.

A drowse of heated lust is all it takes
To prove that she loves cunt; and wants to taste
Her lady love, until her tongue just aches
For more; and she will lap until she makes
Her presence felt; and finds herself well-placed
To press home further, so that climax breaks...