	She's all tied up in red Christmas ribbons,  tied to the bed, of course, with wide satin ribbons dark against her wrists, her ankles, bright and shiny in the black and white monochrome of body and bed.
	But what would I do with her?
	I'd look at her first, of course, her long-nailed white hands on the black velvet bedcovers, small wrists wrapped in smooth satin, barely visible through her pale skin I'd see the blue veins running along her arm to the soft inside of her elbow.  I'd touch her there, feel her blood just below my fingertips, then run my touch up along the muscle of her arm to her shoulder, then her neck.  I'd touch her ear through her hair, the pale skin just showing through the dark silk softness, then I'd push the hair back behind her ear, continue my finger down over her jaw, the hollow in her throat, down between her breasts, to somehow be surprised that her tattoo feels the same as the rest of her skin, to wonder whether it would taste any different.  I'd brush my hand in a wide circle around her breast, just where it begins to come up from her chest, rub the back of my hand down her side, feeling her ribs against my knuckles at first, then the ridge and curve of her hip.
	I'd turn my hand over then, and pull it, palm flat, across the smooth hardness of her thigh to the curve of her calf and the shiny Christmas ribbon about her ankle. 
	Maybe then I'd untie her, this one ribbon at least, because if I untied this one I could drag it back up along her body, a ticklish caress that might make her writhe, might make her nipples hard as it passed over them.
	And if I untied one ankle, I could set her leg on my shoulder, run both hands along it, maybe kiss the inside of her ankle, the bone and its little hollow against my tongue.
	If I were Japanese, I'd lick my way up her calf, bending her leg back, to kiss the back of her knee, all soft skin stretched tight, hard pressed against my teeth if I were to bite her.  I've been informed that the Japanese consider the backs of the knees very erotic...
	Although I am not Japanese, I rather suspect that Lilitu has very attractive knees, and so I would probably kiss them anyway, smooth skin slightly salty against my tongue, tendons moving beneath her skin as she bent her leg a little more, her heel sliding down my back as she would try to pull my kisses farther up her leg.  I'd brush my lips over the cool smooth whiteness of the inside of her thigh, the taste of her skin, the smell of her skin and maybe a little more, until I would come to the somewhat warmer place between her legs, a different taste slick and wet in my mouth.
	Sharp, but nice.  If I were to taste her, I imagine that she would remind me of an apple, one of the tart ones, sour-sweet and fresh and juicy.  I can imagine that Lilitu could be mouth-watering. And she is shaved, so she'd be smooth, very smooth and slippery, my lips against her lips as I opened my mouth against her sex.  I can imagine how warm my breath would feel to her, how warm the taste of her would make me feel, as I closed my lips around her clit, without sucking, just a light soft pressure to make her squirm up against my face.
	But it occurs to me that I haven't been inside her yet.  While I'm not generally over-obsessed with penetration, perhaps it would feel nice, as I held her clit between my lips, my tongue just barely brushing its tip, if I stroked the smooth inside of her labia with my finger and then curled it inside her. I can imagine how she'd feel inside, even more smooth as she squeezed around me, and very very warm.
	I wonder, would she move against my face more, or less? It might hold her still, but then again, if she'd like the feel of it moving inside her, perhaps she'd move against my hand.
	Of course, if I really wanted to hold her still, I'd slide that finger temporarily out of her. Slippery and wet, I'd use it to caress her farther down, until tight muscle relaxed enough to let me in.
	And if I did that, I'd want to bring my other hand up to replace the one I'd moved, so that I could feel inside her with both hands, and feel my own fingers inside her through her body as I slowly stroked one finger with the other.
	Now, granted, this is a position that leaves me leaning over, my weight on my elbows; but if it feels anywhere near as good as I'd imagine that it must, she probably wouldn't need me to hold it very long.