If I can catch her by surprise, lift her skirt, and get there before she is damp and believe me the timing is critical; it's but a cracked window of time, but if I can get to my knees in time and just so barely touch her with the tip of my tongue, I mean barely, it's like tasting the dry soft velvet of a perfect rose. If you have never touched the tip of your tongue to the center of a perfect rose then this may not be a texture with which you are familiar but remember, you must outkiss the first drop of dew to experience the softest of soft velvety bliss and isn't a rose in bloom perfection personified or would that be a rose by any other name?