Her tongue, a sinuous serpent, flicks out, tasting the air, hungry for the texture of the stockings that encase her legs. She licks, she tastes, she teases, her tongue dancing along the length, the dampness of her mouth leaving a sheen on the black satin. Her breath hitches as she reaches the apex, her tongue dipping in, finding the heat, the wetness, the promise of what's to follow. A tease, a taste, a tantalizing prelude to the main event.