Quintessence of quim

Two words not so commonly used.
Quim: /kwɪm / (n) Brit. vulgar slang. (Origin mid 18th century.) A woman’s genitals.
Quintessential: /ˌkwɪntɪˈsɛnʃ(ə)l / (adj) Representing the most perfect or typical example of a quality or class.

Quim is a word I have particular fondness for. It goes without saying that I love cunts, pussies, muffs, fanniesUK, twats, minges, what ever you like to call them, but I like quim as a word.

I was staying with a young prostitute in France, along with four generations of her family. (I have no idea why; this was, after all, just a dream. Although she had no name in my dream, for convenience, let’s call her Nadine.) Some financial arrangement had been made whereby I benefited from her services for an hour per day; an hour that was strictly, but gently enforced. As she gave me blow jobs, tit wanks, and as we fucked, she would keep an eye on the clock – not out of impatience, but merely to police the precision of our arrangement – and when 60min had expired, no matter the state of our engagement, it would be terminated. This was always done sympathetically, softly, and firmly with the intimation that her services would recommence later. If we were interrupted in flagrante delicto (and this being a dream, we frequently were, by her younger brother or grandparents) the countdown would pause, to be resumed, along with her servicing of me, on their departure.

Throughout the dream, the boundaries of our relationship seemed, to me, to blur a little:

As my head oscilated attentively between her spread thighs, my tongue lapping at her labial commisure, she murmoured …
Nadia : You’re good.
Without wishing to brag inordinately, (ok, I’m bragging quite joyously here) in the real, wide awake world, I have been told this both independently and with varying  degrees of apparent surprise, gratitude and pleading by Alice, Geri, Fiona, Willow, Sarah and Tania.
Nadia : That’s the quent you’ve licking there – it’s the root of the quorus. (She spread her dark scalloped lips with her fingers to show me). That’s soooo good. [Dear Reader: the anatomy is a little off here to say the least. There are no such elements to the vulva. I can’t be sure whether this was down to mistranslation of Nadia’s anatomical French colloquialisms, or the fact that all this was a dream, but please don’t rely on this description if you want to know your way round female genitalia. It was all just a dream!]
And then her grandparents let themselves into her boudoir, sat next to the bed whilst I emerged, slick faced from beneath the bed covers, and then had a long conversation about their recent holiday with their naked, breathless granddaughter.

Later as we walked in a field below the house, I asked Nadine about our relationship.
Me : I know all to well that you’re a prostitute, and that I am paying for your services. That you are extremely professional and it matters to you to maintain your reputation. I know I am just a client. That you must have had lovers with far bigger cocks, far better stamina, far prettier faces, far better physiques, and with far greater athleticism than I could even aspire to. But the degree to which you seem to enjoy our time together feels disproportionate to that which your career choice might require.
Nadia declined to answer, expertly dodging the question and suggested we went to the cinema. Sin City 2. was showing.

WPsc

She paid. The old fashioned kind of ticket machine where the rough card tickets are ejected with a loud clunk through a slot in a polished metal plate in the kiosk desk. They were a dark blue-ish green.
That’s one of the great things about dreams.
The detail.

I can tell you the colour of the cinema tickets.
And of the dark edged, scalloped folds of her pussy lips.
And the velvety warmth and tightness that clenched around my fingers, undulating deep inside in her.
The taste of her sweet musky juices as they trickled across my tongue.
The smell of her joy, as her vapors filled my nostrils.
The sound of her soft Gallic moans as I dipped into her quim.

Sight. Touch. Taste. Smell. Sound.
Five senses.
Quinque sensuum.
Quintessence of quim.

6 Responses to “Quintessence of quim”

  1. Now that is quite the dream!

  2. Very detailed! I like quim though I never use it. It’s such a good word in the way it feels in your mouth.

  3. Brtish vulgar slang – but it sounds so proper!

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