She Does So!

She Does So! She'd always liked cones, in fact all things cylindrical. Nothing though beat the cream-filled cats' tongues, double-filled, of course and browned with real chocolate, she'd slide it in her mouth, lips just reluctant but open enough and used her tongue as the comptroller, guidance was needed. As a child, it was the shocking cold of ice cream, vanilla, later they offered strawberry with a bit of white, topping of sorts, it melted on the back part of your tongue if you kept it from slipping down the gullet, later, when her taste had changed, she was reminded of her joyful years, topping was now the cream, and she was one of the few who had practiced for so many moons, which, it must be observed, went down the gurgler very well, all around.