i'd like to pinch it between my thumb and forefinger, not hard so to bruise it, but like the master of the orchard pinches fruit to acknowledge it is ripe. i'd like to smell it. i'll bet it carries naught a trace of scent, but is much like water to your tongue when absolutely parched- it would have no smell, but the effect would be instantly pleasing and the smell indescribable. in much the same way, her pussy juice might be like the best vodka, being tasteless, but entirely intoxicating. her hair would be so soft, as to be inviting, that a man should lay face first inside it, that he might stop licking but fall asleep atop its silk-like spun fibers and each time he should awaken, to find himself face first in the most lovable twat to grace the earth, time and time, over and over again. sublime. her lips would be much like the ones on her face, only pinker. pinker than even those of a rosy cheek of some 5 yo. her would be a constant colour of virginity, a cherry tree always in blossom. but she would not be so angelic as to be unapproachable - for just a few inches down from my nose, and almost immediate from my chin and tongue, would be the dirt road. only on coolfag, it would not be dirt - it would be paved and riding that road would be easy. her asshole would be very much like her is: pink and subtle, and would be as tight as her was - which is to praise the quality of her vag: asshole tight. she would not be unapproachable. her back would arch and both holes, like two moons, or two suns, would appear - and all that night would be... enchanted.