The Legend of the Ladies Man

Ladies, listen closely as I tell you of the Legend of the Ladies Man. Maybe you have already heard tales of him. Maybe you have encountered him personally and can verify first hand the truth that I am telling. Maybe you hope upon hope that there is such a man. I am here to tell you that there is.

Gentlemen, listen closer to this story of the Legend of the Ladies Man. Maybe you have heard of the man. Maybe he is your best friend. Maybe you have given up hope trying to emulate him. Maybe you didn’t know that such a person could exist. I am here to tell you that he can and does.

The Ladies Man, was called such because he loved all ladies. He gave no care to their race or origin. He gave no thought to their size. His father had schooled him once, that to truly love a woman, you had to love all women. You could be selective, but you should never be exclusive. “All women were to be appreciated for their charms.” He said. “All women, had charm.” He explained. “Women range in sizes small to extra-large, and each is a provocateur-a specialist so to speak. Don’t always let her outside, speak for her inside. A jewel may await you. You may have to dig, but the treasure she unfolds will be worth the effort.”

The Ladies Man took his father’s words to heart. As he went out to explore the world, he uncovered many jewels. The woman with the large thighs enveloped him securely. The woman with the small breast fit them perfectly into his mouth. The woman with the rounded stomach nourished his body and gave his head a tender place to rest. The woman with the large hands gripped his cock firmly, and so forth and so on. In his journey, he began to see that when you take the time to look, you will indeed find a jewel.

Women loved him. So much so that they didn’t mind sharing or waiting for him or on him. Because of this, he had no ex-girlfriends, but rather a string of women friends. He always had a place to stay. He always had a woman to lay. He became legendary for his prowess, for his skill, for his compassion, and for his tongue.

The Ladies Man loved a woman’s body completely and totally. He especially enjoyed eating pussy. He was amazed at the range the heavenly fruit came in. He had enjoyed women with full outer-lips, and tiny clits. He had relished women with tiny outer lips and clits as big as the tip of his pinky. He had marveled at the intricacies of a woman’s interior. He was awed by her unique exterior. He had witnessed a rainbow of colors. Some very pink, some brown, some with a purplish hue, some very dark, with pink interiors. Some were the color of a Rose, some the color of a Violet. He had a steady buzz, intoxicated by the plethora of scents he’d inhaled.

He adopted a motto for women. “A woman is like an artichoke, nibble gently on the layers until you get to the heart.” To him, an artichoke was a perfect metaphor. Each leaf contained only a small offering of fruit. However, as you pulled and nibbled each leaf or layer away, you would find yourself at the succulent heart. Dip the heart in creamy melted butter, and you would have a meal.

That is what the Ladies Man did, he nibbled at the layers. When he was with a woman, he would slowly peel of her clothes. First, her blouse. Slowly he would unbutton it-making sure he nibbled lightly at her neck and shoulders. Sometimes sucking at the soft skin of at her neck. As he pulled the blouse away from her wrist, he would lick and kiss and suck at her breasts. Then, he would slowly undo her skirt. He would bend at her feet, and slip off one shoe and then the other. He would sit her on the bed, the chair, the couch or the sink, whichever was handy. He would appreciate the litheness or roundness of her body. He would then take one foot and then the other, raising them to his mouth. He would slide his tongue across the arches of her feet. He would suck each toe, firmly, gently, and expertly, leaving a lasting tingle that would let her know that he was there.

Then, he would take his hands to each side of her narrow or full hips, and slowly, very slowly, slide her panties down to her ankles and around her feet, finally resting them on the ground. He was getting closer to the heart.

Now, this is where his legendary status arose. He would look at her pussy, really look at it. He would stand and survey it from on high. He would kneel and study it closely. He would reach his hand out to it and rub it lightly. He would bring his nose to it and inhale it deeply. He had just one layer more, before he uncovered the heart-the clit. He would peel back the outer lips, and suck each one hungrily. If she was shaved-great! If she wasn’t-great! He would take his tongue and plunge it into the deep crevice from where her outer lips sprang forth. His pointed tongue would dance around her clit. He would stroke her clit with alternately soft and firm strokes. He would trace her small inner lips (he called them lip-ettes) with his tongue. He knew that the nerves that rested there would make her body react favorably from the sensation. He would flatten his tongue and go from her opened and waiting lip-ettes to the top of her opened and moist outer lips. He would circle his tongue around and around her clit. He would push down gently on the swollen, bright pink button. When she would arch her back, moan, and pull at his long locks-only when he could feel her clit quiver beneath his tongue, would he slowly, yet forcefully probe the inside of her lip-ettes. It was then that he would get the creamy butter that made her pussy a meal.

He would take his time. He never tired of the ritual. If she came in 2 minutes, he would start over. If she came in 30 minutes, he would thank her for the workout. There was no such thing as her never coming.


Now ladies, if you have met the Ladies Man, let him know how much you enjoyed him. Let him know of your legendary status as well. If you haven’t met him, take heart; Legends are made, not born.

Gentlemen, maybe the Legend is you. If you are he, we thank you.
If you are not he, learn from this tale, and you will become a legend in your own right.

The End

Copyright 2005