Laura, still in her robe, fed the cat while I boiled water for tea. The steam quieted instantly when I removed the kettle from the flame, but the noise of the cat lapping water continued—sweet tendrils of delicately sticky sound. I listened. “You know what that sounds like?” I asked Laura. “No, what?” she said, serious. I hoisted her on the counter to show her, resting her lovely legs over my shoulders and pressing my palm firmly on her fluffy pussy fur so my thumb and forefinger could pry her outer lips apart. I admired her for a time. Like a little flower, the plump pink petals of her inner lips began to open. My tongue strove between, licking up, lapping. It didn’t take long for Laura’s love milk to come. Laura’s thighs trembled, her belly tightened, she mewled and moaned, softly, sharply, and tumbled into orgasm. “Did you hear it?” I asked her later, my fingers playing lightly upon her cunt skin “That little sound, the liquid snap of sex.” “Oh, yes,” Laura said, eyes twinkling naughtily, “your tongue is almost as good as the cat’s.”