THE THING I MOST LIKE ABOUT WHITE PUSSY is it smells like roses. Now I know some of you paler bro's might rise up in defiance and declaim you've put your nose in some nasty shit, but pound for pound the whiter the meat, the sweeter.
I'm not knocking my soul sisters. The thing I like most about them is the smell, too. But it's no flower bed . . . more like French onion soup and ham hocks. It all depends on the hour of the day, which odor more suits my mood. Fragrant flower children just don't satisfy a hearty appetite like sister night. And the delicate swoon over the aroma of fresh-baked lily loaf is lost in the vise of a fly girl.
Mood requires different technique, too. Kiss the folding petals of a little rose delicately before probing it with nose to find the flower's fruit. Dive right into hot Alabama breakfast.