The Wave

Copyright 2006 Peter S. Baring

"Come on, Minna. You go in first." Judy lifted her bunched-up T-shirt away from one eye and peeked slyly across the beach blanket at her sunbathing friend Minna. Minna pretended she didn't hear. "Come on, Minna." Judy insisted. "A nice ocean dip would be REFRESHING!"

Minna didn't say anything, of course. She was way too cool. Her back was arched deeply, offering her stretch-covered titties upward to the sun, and she sighed and let her pink mouth fall open as if asleep. She sure was beautiful! Judy wished she could have skinny thighs and a flat tummy like that, dusky brown skin that faded into vanilla cream at the edges where the older girl's bikini bottom was tucked in.

Judy looked critically up at her legs from her reclining position. Too fleshy and fat, she thought. She couldn't even see the ocean in the space between them. Anyway, at least having these big old tits was okay. At sixteen, Judy had already filled her bra cups as full if not more than her friend. She drew a lazy hand along the underside of one warm ripe breast.

Minna had been telling her about this boy Steve she had been going out with, how sex wasn't everything. Like he had taken her totally to dinner four times already and he hadn't even tried to kiss her yet. Well, once, the first night. But not since then. He was just totally considerate, totally a cool guy. Judy thought he sounded like a complete dick-teased wuss.

A hundred feet away the ocean roared towards her, pulled back, arched again and crashed forward, speckling her with a fine salty mist. Judy shivered. She snuck another quick glance over in Minna's direction. Judy couldn't tell if Minna's eyes were open behind her dark glasses. She let her thighs come apart and a self-indulgent smile cross her face as the fingers of a sea breeze blew coolly into the moist hollows around her nookie-noo.

Way out beyond the breakers a man in a skindiving suit paddled slowly across the unending swells, waiting for a big one, kicking his white waxed board into perfect placement. In the distance it was like he was aimed right at her, like he was her super-surfer ready to catch her wave. What if he just cruised on up the beach and FUCKED her?? Judy knew she would just pull the little bow knots on her hips and let him do it, and she reached up to make sure she could pull the loops through if she had to, dug her heels into the sand and wriggled her toes in readiness.

"Judy! Lay down! Those kids are looking at us." Minna was definitely awake now, sitting upright, her elbows raising as she checked the top of her swimsuit, her tanned body casting a protective shadow over her younger friend. "Watch out. They might see something!" Minna was always saying things like that but she was really nothing but a big show-off herself.

Without moving the position of her feeling hand Judy let her kneecaps come back together as she looked slyly around. A group of cute-looking boys were gliding their frisbee game down the beach towards the two girls' blanket. "Silly. They're looking at you, Minna! It's your big tits they're looking at." Minna's blue eyes widened as she realized suddenly that it was true. The teenagers' back and forth banter had changed its tone. It was mixed with knowing laughter as they whisked the flying saucer closer and closer to the booby blonde. "Hey, Dude. Look at the Frizz, man! Oh, wow. Not over there, Dude."

Judy was getting an idea, though. She leaped to her feet and took off after the misguided frisbee, making sure to keep her ass up and her legs straight as she bent to pick up the plastic disk. "Here, Minna!" she called out, zinging it straight and hard in her friend's direction. Minna shrieked as she put her hands out to protect herself, her golden boobs bouncing and bobbing in the sunlight as she fended off the edge-on throw.

Judy ran a few steps toward the nearest of the boys, a big wide smile on her face. "Hey, Dude! Can we play too? Throw it back to them, Minna!" She loved the way she had already learned how a girl could get all five of the guys into heat at once. They were lusting totally after her sexy body, their eyes fixed on the places her skimpy swimsuit started and left off, their imagination excited by her happy attitude.

She couldn't never win around Minna, though. No matter how hard Judy tried, it seemed like they always turned back to look at the older girl. Judy watched jealously as her friend bounced forward twice on the balls of her feet and then flang the frisbee in a veering curve twenty feet to her left. Minna was just such a perfect slut! In a second a tall boy was sprinting across the sand toward her upperclass friend, his long arms whipping as his feet swiveled in the hot sand to retrieve the misguided throw.

You could always count on Minna to lead them on from there, too. Judy watched in admiration as the nineteen-year-old melted into the dude's controlling arms like butter, giggled softly in his ear and spun the pro-model glow-in-the-dark to another crash-landing in the dunes somewhere.

That did it! Judy was going swimming. "That does it. I'm going in!" she called, turning slowly to face the waves and making four-fucking sure the quartet of other frisbee players had a chance to zoom in on her titty profile.

She wasn't like Minna. OK, Minna was really cool and everything, but she didn't understand herself at all--that she was really just a big tease. But even at sixteen, Judy always wanted to do it with everyone at once. Who could think of going shopping without trying on a lot of different stuff? In her mind Judy was getting each of the five guys out of their baggy beach shorts and pulling them up over her bare stomach while she looked hungrily over at their flat, muscled waistlines, their tight butts, their standing up, sticking out stickery-sticks. Every one fits different, every one a different size and shape and color.

Judy was the kind who liked to be nearly naked at all times. That was why she loved the beach so much and why she had chose out the g-string look when she went there. So everybody could see what it would be like to be her and to fuck her.

Judy thought what would happen if she started to drown and this boy had to rescue her. He didn't need to know she had had her lifesavers for four years or that she had been screwing around for two. She'd be all coughing and gasping and helpless as he pulled her in from certain death. He'd be all like "Wow, are you all right?" She'd be like "I think I swallowed something, oh my God, thank you, thank you!"

She was almost laughing as she thought about it, her tongue poking through her lips as she imagined the picture of the boy bent over her, his SF Giants hat turned around to the back of his head, his strong arm warm against her back.

She had broken through the shiver zone, screaming a little bit as the white spray splashed across her stomach. Judy turned sideways and raised her arms, bouncing out into the deeper water, feeling the flow drop back down away from her sides as each new wave gathered strength. The retreating waters were pulling the firm sand out from beneath her feet, drawing her further and further away from shore.

"Hey, you guys! Hey!" A hundred feet out, nipple deep, Judy turned back to face everybody. She knew they'd be watchin her tightened tits bob up and down. "Hey!" On the shore, Minna had moved over next to the best of the dudes. She was laughing and holding on to his arm, one leg kicked up behind her. OK, fine, Minna, I'll show you.

Now! Another one, a big one was coming! Judy watched the wave come at her, dipping and rising until finally it was a wall as tall as she was, and she took that moment to turn and leap back for the beach. Too late! The water was breaking over her, but instead of curling and trying to protect herself she let it take her arms and legs, let it spin her over, flip her upside down, slam her into the shallows.

The stinging slap of foam green water had stripped the skimpy strip of purple fabric right off of Judy's big tits in the first wild instant, and they swirled and swam wildly in the swift turbulence, as the enormous wave drove Judy's body mercilessly into the flat sand.

It wasn't like she expected it would be at all. Yes it was. The ocean was like, totally skronking her, holding her head down and slamming right between her thighs, flipping and tumbling her.

She felt herself starting to black out. The ripping raging current was everywhere, holding her, feeling her, taking her away with it. She could see the shore and she kept wanting to get up, crawl toward the people there, breathe, but her spread out hands and knees just wouldn't work, and as she tried to suck in air the following wave came crashing over her, and suddenly she was really choking, her face full of sand and slime and her own smothering hair.

She promised God please she would never do it again, but He said she was a liar. He had opened up his watery robe and Our Father who art in heaven was fucking the bejeezus out of her.

Thing was, Judy was truly a conniving little cunt. She had it totally figured out in advance, even though she never felt the strong arms of the boy that ran out into the surf and brought her back in. Joel had dug Judy since he had first seen her feeling herself up in the distance on the beach blanket. But it was like it took being totally drowned to even slow her down. He shifted uncomfortably. Beneath him, laying stretched out flat on her back, the girl turned her head and coughed weakly in response to the flat pressure he was applying to the center of her chest.

As soon as he knew she was going to be all right, Joel couldn't keep his eyes off of her naked tits and what he wanted more than anything was to get them in his big hands and squeeze the sex out of them. Cuz they were just so perfect, soft and curvy and delicious.

Joel had never seen nipples as fucking beautiful as Judy's were. They were deep dark ovals that crinkled around chewy little nubs. They made you want to find out what they were made of. He let his big hands move in wider circles so he could fiddle at them with his thumbs.

"Somebody give her his shirt." It was the girl he had been helping throw the frisbee talking. Oh, yeah. Sure. Joel untied the blue and black plaid shirt from his waist. He smiled up at Minna. "She'll be okay in a few minutes," he said. "She just swallowed some water. By the way, my name is Joel." The other girl was older than the one he had rescued, a little bit more mature and sophisticated looking, with streaky blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Maybe she'd be like grateful to him for saving her friend.

But instead he was caught short with like this goofy smile on his face. "Ahh, who gives a shit," the girl said with unexpected anger. "Judy, you little cunt!" What did she mean by that? Joel didn't get it at first. In confusion, he looked back down to see what she was talking about. The girl she called Judy had one eye open now, and she seemed to be giggling. As soon as she saw him looking she closed it again, moaning.

Ricardo and the other guys were all laughing now. "Good job, Joel! Make sure you give her your shirt, dude, her tits'll get cold!" Joel blushed and jerked his hands away from Judy's bare boobs, letting them flop free and flat. He opened his shirt down over her and tucked it up under her chin, not having any idea what to do next.

"Come on, you guys! Let's go party." The girl named Minna was already stalking away, leading Ricardo behind her. "You all have a great time," she called back sarcastically. Joel was still straddled over the girl he had supposedly saved, his bare thighs close against the skimpy purple bottom of her wet swimsuit. He felt his face burning with embarassment.

OK, fine, if she wanted to fool. As the other dudes disappeared down the beach Joel pulled the covering shirt away, let his eyes return to the twin treasures buried beneath. Judy's chest was still sticky from the salt water. Her teen-aged mammaries were warm and moist at the edges as he gathered them into the bushel basket of his hands, pressed their teeny titty-tips together.

It took all the will power Judy had to keep her eyes squeezed shut as Joel hunched over and rang her soft bells. This time the dude was letting his hands do any kind of good stuff they wanted. Judy's mouth opened in the middle into a little pink "o", and the tip of her tongue pushed forward through her teeth as Joel pinched her pert nipples and yanked them straight out into the air.

He was the mastery-man. The mam-master. The man. Joel had a raging rusty re-bar rammed up the front of his shorts and a need for more. He let one boob fall back flat as he twisted the other freckled suck-sack even further away and began to slowly slap its soft stretched skin. Beneath him Judy began to shift and moan.

Cuz one thing she had found out from the beginning was that you shouldn't let them think. Keepum Simple Stupid. She wished that Joel would put them in his mouth. Cuz she always got off the most when she felt a boy snorting and sucking on her bitchin boobies like a big hunky milk-hungry animal.

For a sixteen year old Judy was pretty and smart, but what she still hadn't learned yet was that the dudes like Joel were always thinking even when her tits were crammed into their faces. Yeah, Joel was a fucking Einstein at this kind of foreplay, figgerin the formulas to turn Judy's universe rightside out.

Joel was thinking first of all about the sneaky look this chick had snuck up at him. He was thinking that if she wanted to be saved so much she might have to be squeezed and stroked first so she better like it. He sucked his whole mouth tight around her salty tit, flattening the fat little nippal area against his slippery tongue muscle. The chewy button swelled and expanded. Yup the old fooleroo had drawn himself the night watch in a Fun Factory this time.

She knew she could always like scream that he was raping her. Minna would come. But Judy knew she wouldn't do that unless she had to prove who was really in control. She sighed and wriggled her shoulders back into the warm sand, pressing her bare boobs up to where the dude could do whatever he wanted with them. She just wished he would kiss the other one too.

Kiss it? Joel wished he could suck it right off! Even though he knew it was an act, he was buying into it all the way, playing along with Judy's game. It felt great not have to make excuses, not have to look into the chick's eyes and see her trying to decide how far to let him go. Joel smoothed his big hands down across the bumpy curved line of Judy's ribs. She was breathing fine now, the air going in slow and coming out fast.

He was finding out something else great too. He was totally in Love! Now he was splitting the sensations with his hands, one sliding up to support her sandy back, the other going downward to turn the tip of her hip in to him, his fingers working at the tight wet knot that held the bottom of her swimsuit on. There, he had it. The strings came free at last and the tiny triangle of purple cloth pulled away from a sweet stretch of untanned skin.

Judy peeked again. Her spit-slick nipples were totally crinkled hard in the cool sea-salt air. She wished Minna could see her now. Through the curtain of her eyelashes she watched Joel's attention turn downwards. The boy had a head of curly, dark brown hair, almost black, and strong, smooth shoulders. A pepper-shaker moustache speckled his upper lip.

Judy's own lips were too dry and she sucked them in, ran her tongue around to moisten them. He liked her, liked what he was finding out about her. Joel's big dickee had the front of his baggy shorts stretched into a tight spear shape and he kept on grabbing at it, trying to get it out get it off guide it in. She was pretty sure she liked him too.

Joel pressed his finger into the tight crack beneath Judy's frizzy brown-haired cunt-bump, playing with the little possum that lived there, teasing the little animal into life. She was already ready, warm and wet and willing, and he felt her hips shift as she opened up to his further exploration.

Now he knew he wanted this chick to want him too. And as if she could read Joel's dirty mind she was raising her hands, reaching to the front of his wet shorts, unbuttoning him and zipping him down. He saw her peeking out of the side of her eyes at his dick as she brought him out throbbing hard all the way out into the open air and sun.

For some reason Judy just really liked to look at guys' penises. Who needed this romance stuff? She just liked to touch them, too. That was all she kept trying to tell Minna. No, she didn't think they were ugly at all. She couldn't think of nothing better than stroking and pinching this thick veiny purple fucker unless it was bouncing the pair of big old naked hound-dog balls hanging down beneath it in her hand. That was all. What did love have to do with it?

Judy stretched her arms straight down, squeezing her bare breasts out while she handled his stick. Joel looked so great reared up above her with his unsnapped shorts pulled down. He wrapped his strong fingers around her fist, squeezed it into a tight circle around his big baby maker, made her slide it up and down his curvy length, pulling and pointing the meat muscle down at her.

She hated blushing, but she loved to be embarassed. In a funny way it was the best part when you finally stopped pretending. She felt herself getting all red and stuff as she looked up into Joel's eyes and both of them knew. "Thank you for rescuing me." she told him.

Tribale

Copyright 2006, Peter S. Baring

Ee-mi was showing the other girls how to work the thin white threads of hemp from the heaps of cut off stalks that had been dragged in from the fields. After the stems were smashed open then the crew would have to roll them flat with the rocks and then everyone would lean closer, feeling with fingertips to be the first to pull the fibers free. Ee-mi expertly hooked a string over her thumb and presented it, smiling, to the older girl who crouched next to her.

There was the sound of someone approaching and even before she looked up, Ee-mi knew it was Jemma. Jemma’s big thighs scissored in a beautiful tight flowered skirt as she came up to the shady work area. Jemma’s breath was deep and throaty, her fleshy breasts damp with drips of perspiration, as if she had hurried a long way.

“Why are you dressed so nice, S’si Jemma?” she asked innocently. She rubbed the back of her hand against her eyebrow where it itched, looked questioningly at Jemma. Her sister’s wife seemed so nervous.

“Ee-mi. I have bad news. Happy-Dancing is sick. She needs you at home right away,” Jemma said as she pulled Ee-mi upward from her kneeling position in the workgroup, straightened her short skirt, tried to brush away the dry yellow dust from her knees and legs. Happy-Dancing was the name of the little girl-dog that would jump up when Ee-mi held out food.

Ee-mi was confused. This couldn’t be. From where they stood she could see the tips of Happy’s paws sticking out from behind the trunk of a nearby tree. “But, Happy-Dancing is right here with me.”

“Ee-mi.” Jemma changed her mind. “Listen to me. Let’s go for a walk. I need to talk to you about something.”

What are you doing, S’si? We have work to do here.” Not like you, Ee-mi thought with sudden irritation.

“It’s your day, Ee-mi. Come on,” Jemma commanded. But it wasn’t. Ee-mi’s eighth birthday had been months before. “Never mind. You’ll see,” Jemma said. “It’s hard to explain.”

The town was still and hot at this time of the morning. A slanted row of woven cane structures cast shadows that directed them away from the busy group of winnowers. All the men had been sent away. Ee-mi could see only a few of the sick sitting stiff and thin in the shade of their homes.

The soft yellow dust and its lacy shadows drifted behind as they kicked their way through it. Jemma began pulling Ee-mi’s bare arm painfully along. By now they were almost running.

One of the village’s warrior women emerged slowly from her hut ahead of them. She bowed her helmeted head impassively, then turned to let the two of them pass.

“Are we going home, S’si? We’re going the wrong way!” Instead of making their way around the outer circles of the town Jemma was leading Ee-mi straight toward its center. More and more of the villagers were standing straight from the entrances to their houses. Like Jemma they were dressed in their best and most colorful clothing, draped in rows of jangling jewelry.

“Stop it, stop it,” Ee-mi said. She tore herself free from Jemma’s insistent grasp and stood, uncertain of what to do next.

A tall woman as dark-skinned as Ee-mi slipped from a sideway, strode silently to where they stood. What Ee-mi saw right away was that she was naked between the legs. She was wearing bound leggings of striped antelope hide, wound from her ankles to her high hips with braids of the raw hemp. For a second Ee-mi thought of dashing away, running back to join the other children at their work. But as soon as the idea came she was prevented from acting on it. Two strangers stepped from behind to take hold of her arms.

“Ee-mi, ah-nonna-mi.” It meant favored one. The woman’s face was old, old and made strong by experience, and her voice was rough and sweet and hoarse, like raw sugar. Despite the glaring heat of the morning her head was framed by a collar of bristling fur.

Ee-mi stared up in wonder into the woman’s eyes, deep dark brown centers set in yellow and white that measured everything inside her. “Yes, mother,” she replied.

Ee-mi’s head reached only half as high as the nearly naked figure who stood before her. It put her right at eye-level with the line of coarse kinky hair that began beneath the woman-witch’s belly button and curled down thick between her legs. Ee-mi couldn’t stand the way it looked, couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it would be to have so much hair down there. How could she ever pee? The thick growth had been plucked away to expose a long wrinkled ruffle of dark purple flesh. It was the ugliest thing Ee-mi had ever seen.

Worried that the tiny child before her might not yet be ready, the shaman reached forward to grip Ee-mi by the shoulders. Brass bracelets were squeezed tight around her arms and wrists and her nails were curved and hard and they dug into the girl’s skin.

At eight years old, Ee-mi was thin and strong, unused to being held still, and she shrugged back against the examination. The little girl was naked above and beneath the scrap of skirt tied around her narrow waist. Her sensitive nipples were the surest sign of her readiness, though, swollen into soft gray circles against the flat black skin of her girlish chest.

“This way, child.” Ee-mi allowed herself to be guided into the longhouse of the women. She slid by Jemma swiftly and without touching, pushed through a narrow opening draped with thick tanned animal hides. Betrayer.

For men the ceremonies always happen in the open night, highlit with the drama and frenzy of dancing flames. But Ee-mi entered in the quiet of morning. A slow and secretive rattle broke the heavy darkness of the inside, shaking into a steady stacatto. Suddenly she was surrounded by the ghosts of the recognized present, faces and forms that swam before her stll dazzled eyes, closed inward toward her, touching her, talking to her without making sense.

Ee-mi had never been allowed to enter the longhouse before. The inside was rich and wide and tall, the ridgepole nearly twice as high as a person. Two rows of carved bone lanterns led along a narrow way, spreading and circling their flickering light around a glistening leather pedestal that stood as tall as the little girl.

For the first time Ee-mi was afraid. Strange hands, old hardened hands grasped her and held her from both sides. Something smelly was waved beneath her wrinkling nose. It was hot thick smoke and she nearly choked as it felt its way through her nostrils, curled upwards into spaces that lay behind her vision.

Ee-mi was taken up. It no longer mattered that her small feet touch the pounded earth floor. A nest of arms curved beneath her, turned her body over, slowly unfastened and removed her clothing.

The woman named Jemma came forward first. She kissed her wife’s younger sister tenderly beneath the chin. Ee-mi stared straight upward now, unwilling to acknowledge the touch of the one who had delivered her. But Jemma just smiled. Her fingers slipped downward, closed possessively around the tiny twin spouts that pricked out from the girl’s upper torso. Ee-mi wanted to shake her away but she couldn’t move. All she could see was Jemma leaning over her, now withdrawing her hands and beginning to stroke her own large breasts, pinch and pull at her huge brown nipples.

“Milinka-a-t’mem, Ee-mi.” Jemma breathed. She was staring straight into Ee-mi’s eyes. “I am giving you my milk, Ee-mi.” And she was. Jemma’s naked breasts had begun to flow with a sweet silvery cream, and she was crying now with pain and emotion as she squeezed and clenched and gathered it into her palms. She reached forward and began to smear the liquid across Ee-mi’s skin.

Other women had begun to rise from the dark recesses where the woven roof of the longhouse came close to the floor and emerge into the smoky tallow-yellow light of the candles hung from the ridgepole. Their rounded shadows danced across Ee-mi, their gentle hands pulled and stroked the smooth skin of Jemma’s dangling mammaries, splattering the young initiate with hot, sticky magical rain.

“Drink, Ee-mi!” Now Jemma had brought both brown breasts tight together, was forcing her hardened nipples through Ee-mi’s lips. Ee-mi bit down hard and the salty spark of blood suddenly shot through the milk. “Eee-miii!” Jemma shrieked with tortured joy.

Ee-mi was whimpering and snorting like a baby again and the women murmured sympathy even as they pulled her suckling mouth away and prepared her for the next part of the ritual, turning Ee-mi over and facing her head down in the high hard leather saddle she had seen when she entered. Her arms were stretched forward and bound together with the same hempen rope that was looped tight and scratchy around her waist.

It was as though Ee-mi was taking a bareback ride on a beast with no front legs. In this position her knees were spread wide, slightly bent, her feet dangling, stirrup-less. It held her young hips higher than her head, opened the space between them.

Now the women were making noises of approval, running long stroking fingers across her upraised bottom, touching and testing the soft inner flesh Ee-mi’s placement exposed. Her thighs slipped and slapped against the leather flanks of her seat. Why did she feel so suddenly guilty?

Something was happening. Ee-mi felt her baby parts clench tight together in response to a deep steady sound, beating first from her heart, then beginning to throb and pulse inside the back of her head. She felt a warm trickle run down to her waist, felt the pressure of shaping palms as handfuls of wet clay were brought forth, smoothed across her buttocks, sculpted into two high heavy mounds.

The sticky squishy earthen sound was taken up with drums and wordless song. Ee-mi moaned uncomfortably at the first tentative touches, then spasmed and relaxed, then begin to quiver again without control as the tribal women worked and split her new soft flesh, drew the flat line of her bottom deep into a dark canyon.

“It is because you are special, Ee-mi.” The voice of the goddess spoke in response to the question her mind was struggling to form. Ee-mi gasped as a clenched fist pressed between her legs, moaned as a stiffened finger stirred her open, poked inside.

Someone handed another one a long pronged stick. The human finger was withdrawn and someone pushed the barkless branch into the passageway that had been prepared. Ee-mi felt the witchy wood gathering the fluids within as it slid slowly inside, felt the stir of clotted blood as the spread vee of the divining rod pressed snugly up against her built-up buttocks, was turned and lined along her female axis..

The woman shaman, whose name was Ee-mi too, appeared again. With a whoop she sprang from the darkness to prance legs akimbo before the young girl, the curved hollows of her thighs as hard and black as fractured obsidian.

Her round muscular belly was slung low and beautiful below a narrow-waisted jangling cowrie shell belt. A fiery opalescent gem shone inside her clenching navel. Below, a nappy dark pubic bump was thrust forward toward Ee-mi, inside it sat her hot pink totem.

Ee-mi watched in fascination as she twisted her fingers through the strands of stinky crooked hair, tugged back hard, made the little pink animal poke unafraid into the open. It was moist and glistening, crinkled with anticipation. Ee-mi raised her face to see, her mouth suddenly moist, her lips rough and dry.

The older woman guided her gently into place, directing Ee-mi’s extended tongue up in and around her meat-flavored candy, then pressing her down until the girl’s nose was buried deep in the intimate enveloping fleshy folds.

She was watching herself watch herself now, her chin pointing upward and her eyes narrowing to pleasured slits, her hips hard against the leather throne. From behind she could see her lean strutting adult figure lean carefully over her younger self.

“We give you the sacred and the profane, Ee-mi,” Her hands were tight on the divining sapwood rod, “Joy and shame!” There was the tiniest of pains and then it was withdrawn and the stored up, curdled blood began to flow, rich and red.

Sandy's Mistake

Copyright 2006, Peter S. Baring

"I used to strip at parties?" Sandy wanted to find out if they knew where she was coming from. She looked over at Michelle to warn her not to say anything. "Anyway there was this night I had to do the whole act twice? I'll never forget it..."

It was raining fog all over San Francisco and a gusty cold breeze had begun to cut down from Twin Peaks into the Mission as Sandy checked the address and searched out a place to park. The faint splatter against her bare thighs made her shiver as she swiveled her knees out of the car, and she wrapped the raincoat tight around her before she made her way back down the street toward the bar.

"I had a routine where I was supposed to come in all dressed in my little costume and then do the straight strip. I had one of those little boom-box tape players I always carried around--so I could get a good bumping beat?

Sandy was used to the way that people's eyes would always go for her beaver when she came in. With the stretchy short mini-skirt hiked up they could almost see the curly hairs frizzing out the bottom of it. Plus she was so tall that by the time she put on the high high-heels her sweet ass was perched just about perfect looking-level for anyone that was sitting down.

"Sometimes they would nose up real close? And if it was chilly then I would be able to feel how the blast of moist breath would blow up into my cranny and then drift back out the opening at the bottom of my skirt. Anyway this night I was really cold so I kept my long raincoat on when I came in."

She could usually get a good feeling for how a trip was going to play when she first came in. But tonight she was almost anonymous because of the way she was dressed, and maybe that was the first thing that got her off in the wrong direction. The guys all turned and looked her over when the door opened, but they didn't stare and slobber the way they usually did. They couldn't know how trashy she looked underneath the baggy coat. Sandy slid in, smiling naturally, and wove her wide hips through a narrow aisle of chair backs to the bar.

"I think it was supposed to be a bachelor party or a birthday party. Anyway there was only a couple of ladies there? I could tell that the bartender was worried that I had come into the wrong place. 'It's okay,' I whispered to him, 'I'm the entertainment.'

"I ordered a Vodka and Tonic, and while he was making it I set the tape player on the bar and undid the belt of my coat and gave him sort of a pre-view. I could feel his eyes run along the deep neckline of my shirt, sliding over the tops of my pushed together tits and working down into the cleavage between them. 'More to come,' I promised. I turned around. 'Is everybody havin' a good time?' I called out."

Sandy always made sure everyone had a good time. She leaned back with her elbows up on the bar and let the coat fall further open to where they could see what was coming. "I got a MALE-gram for Mike," she announced, "Is Mike Torrance here?" Over in one corner a group of guys had been playing cards. "Yo Mike!" they were grinning, "Hey Mike! She's got a message for you!"

Sandy came away from the bar with a strut, kicking her legs up and shrugging her bare shoulders sensuously as the concealing coat dropped away. She spread her legs wide in the tight skirt, bringing her hands together at her waist so that her stuck-out tits rolled together between her arms. She loved the way they always looked at her when she stood in front of them this way. "Which one of you is Mike? Come on, honey. I've got a special surprise for you."

She had a dozen costumes but the one she liked best was where she dressed up like a street-whore, the little white skirt coming down just over her buns and curling under to where the men wanted to stick their hands and get them wet. Their faces were thick with sudden lust, taking in the sight of her like a heavy, horny drug. "I hope it's you," Sandy told them all, her tongue working to the corner of her mouth as she took hold of her stretchy top and raised it to expose her sexy stomach.

"It doesn't matter how little you show as long as you show it? I was taking them as far by showing off my belly button as if I had tossed all my duds and taken the whole gang on right then. I was just getting them in the mood, raising my shirt to show off two inches of belly and teasing the little hole with my pinky as I looked down."

"Guys want you to take charge? I figured I knew who Mike Torrance was from the start because he was the only one that was worried that he might have to prove something to his friends. This guy was sitting half turned in his chair at the card table, looking uncomfortable. 'You just sit back and relax, baby,' I said, crossing over to him, 'It's your party.' But it wasn't either his party? That was my big mistake!"

Sandy was doing a lot of dancing in those days, and when she wasn't working she used to teach aerobics down at the gym. She'd have to tell us about that sometime. She had to admit she looked pretty good and she knew how to do all the dirty moves. This time she pulled the waistband of her skirt out and held her hand down inside while she stood up close beside him and swayed her hips slow to the bass beat that had started coming off the tape player.

She shook her rust-brown shaggy hair away from her face, began to bang her big breasts back and forth up above the man's level, tipping his forehead slowly back while she kept everyone else's vision rolling deep in her topside cleavage. She was forming a freckled funnel and pouring them over her snowy mounds like a sticky sexy strawberry sauce. "Are you a tit-man, honey?" she asked. "Cause I'm a tit-woman!"

"I've always been a tit-woman? Maybe it means I'm part dyke? Or maybe it's just cause if you got 'em, flaunt 'em? Most strippers work with a bra. It's like something they can get down to? Not me! I keep my hooters loose and work the puppet show inside my shirt and by the time Bert and Ernie have bumped heads a few times I guarantee I've got everyone's attention."

"It gets me off too. You always want to make sure about that or else it's just acting? I've got a method, though. First thing I do is wear something really scratchy. Then when I get them moving I get them moving in all directions until they're itching and hot all over. That way before I start pulling and pinching my nips they're already swole up and sticking out under my shirt."

Everybody in the room was holding their breath as Sandy stretched her neckline down and exposed her crinkled up points. They were thick and chewy buttons that sucked their purple color in from a pair of wide pink areolae the more that Sandy touched and teased them. She was shining them high and then showing them low, rolling them round to the music right in front of the eyes of the man she thought was named Mike Torrance.

It was like Sandy had Mike's unlisted number but she had dialed it wrong and she had called from her own party line where everyone could listen in on what she whispered to him. "It makes me so horny when you look at me that way, Mike. You must really want to suck my boobs!" His face was blushing hot purple as Sandy held her big naked tits close up and began to slap them soft and slow against his cheeks. "Oh. HA HA that TICKLES!" She was pressing her nipple insistantly along the line of his mouth and his little moustache was driving her crazy as she drove him crazy.

"I have to make them fuck me in their minds before I can move on to the real thing? Most of the poker players had kicked in their hands, but this guy I was calling Mike and a few others were still holding their cards close. 'You're ticklin me, baby,' I said softly. 'You're making me forget my act, you suckin stud.' I wanted to feel his lips open and then the wetness of his mouth as it fastened tight on my tittie?"

By this time Sandy was supposed to be serving appetizers all around, matching eyes with everyone in the room as she slowly swapped her sexy suckems into Mike Torrance's face until they were rough red and slick with slobber. But it wasn't working out. They liked her okay, but she had this feeling something wasn't right. It was like they were just waiting uncomfortably for her to finish up so they could get back to their gambling or something. Finally she made a decision and backed bumping away from her reluctant birthday boy until she could feel the edge of the card table beneath her buns and she raised up on her toes until she had her ass all the way on the line. "Alright, you all. I know when I'm licked--all over? Count me in."

"Toss them in, Mike. You had your free shot. Now you gotta pay to play. Five dollar ante. You all play with money and I'll put in my legal tenders?" Sandy turned and took a seat at the table. "Somebody turn off that noise," she said, "Let's play cards!"

"I guess it's that I just can't stand being ignored? After I lost the first two pots right off I spent the time fooling with my naked knockers and fan dancing behind the skimpy cards they kept dealing to me. 'Boobs or better to open?' I asked poker faced. They could see I was holding, but they didn't know about the other stuff I was sitting on."

It was three guys besides the one she thought was Mike Torrance and one other lady and Sandy's job was to make sure they never took their eyes off her body, even while they supposedly were playing their hands, and she was working hard. Before she had had to shuck off anything more than her high-heeled shoes she had won three big pots, taking her time as she leaned over the table to rake in the heaps of rumpled green bills. She loved the rustle of clean cash against her dirty hung-down juggs. "Come on you all!" she was gloating, "Someone's gotta get these clothes off of me. I'm hot, I'm way too hot. Somebody's gotta help the girl chill out."

"'It's panty-ante this time? Winner gets to pull 'em down?'" I knew as soon as I said that that I was going to lose my drawers in the next play. It was my deal and I called my favorite. 'Five-card stud,' I said, snapping the cards down and calling them out as I went around the circle. 'Eight of diamonds. Four.' The dude she'd been calling Mike Torrance rated a measly deuce. 'Too bad I didn't call for low-balls, Mike,' I teased him. I smiled into the deep brown eyes of the woman at the table as I dealt her a card and she looked right back at me without expression. 'Uh Oh. A Queen! Could be the Queen of Cunts.' So far she had been totally cool, going along I figured with whatever guys did at this kind of party, but I couldn't tell for sure how she would act if she had to get more active. 'No-balls is looking good,' I said. 'And a Jack. And dealer gets another eight.'

Sandy actually had another eight in the hole, but there was already one out on the table besides her own. She watched as the player on her left led off with a two-dollar bet and the guy with a beard beside him matched it. "Only two dollars? For my panties? Ain't I worth more than that? I'm going to have to raise!" Sandy stood up out of her chair again and began to draw up her mini-skirt.

"The trouble was, I couldn't get my ass up high enough now that my shoes were off my feet? And I wanted to be sure that the rest of the room got a good look at what I was betting. I climbed up into the seat of the chair and spread my locked knees apart as I made my skirt get short and my legs get long."

"I have this fantasy where the guy is undressing me in the same way? Only he's no-hands--doing it all with his hot horn and I can feel this long thick thing throbbing and pressing impatiently as he lifts and prods the covering clothing up to my waist."

Sandy always wore light pink panties because of how well they showed off the auburn color of her cunt hair. And she always wore them on the small side so that plenty of it stuck out. She dipped a pointing finger into the deepest part of her crack and then traced it up around the outline of her groovy bumpkin. A tiny drop of wetness was already spotting the tight nylon surface that stretched over her squishy slit. "What's it worth to you, Mike? You want someone else pulling these down? Seems like it always comes back to you, you stud!"

"Go ten," the man said. He might not really be named Mike Torrance, but Sandy had definitely gotten his attention. He pushed two five-spots to the center of the table, his vision fixed on Sandy's high-hipped bikini briefs and the sweet pouching package that was twisted tight inside them. "Bet's ten," she announced.

"How about you, Honey?" Sandy asked the woman card player. "A girl can't never have enough underclothes, can she?" The woman dithered, peeking under her down card before moving her money into the pot. "Go fifteen," she said. And then she looked right up into Sandy's eyes where she stood on the chair and smiled nastily.

"I always like a nice friendly game? 'Whoops. Guess I better get back down!' I said. 'Better not get them all too stirred up. This girl's after my puss, guys!' Already I could feel her unblinking intentions like a hot hand slipping between my thighs."

"'I think I know what she's got down there? Anybody beat a pair of queens? Help me, help me,save me,' I was begging the other players out loud to rescue me from a life of lesbianism as I dealt the rest of the cards. inside I was hoping that their hands would be as soft as their dicks were hard. The more I thought about it the more I was ready for the female touch."

Sandy knew exactly how to play it when the last cards were called and the pretty, brown haired lady sat back with a blushing victorious smirk. "Can I borrow back my heels?" she asked the guys she had lost them to. She fitted the long spiked show shoes onto her feet and then stepped from the seat of her chair to the round tabletop. "Music, Maestro!"

"I like the Rolling Stones to dance to the best? Because everybody thinks about fuckin' when they hear that raunchy guitar the Stones lay down. And when they see what I do to it I make sure they think about fuckin' me."

Sandy was marching in place on the tabletop like she was leading the sex parade on circus day, slow stepping and pointing her toes as she ran each knee down the inside of the other thigh, like she was shaking and stroking and twirling a big fat baton. Then the Stones began to grind deep into a repeating riff and she stuck her fleshy bun-cakes straight out to meet the music's exploring hand.

"Sometimes I can tell they wish they were spanking um? And I know from the way my asscheeks are moving and jiggling when I dance that they can see I'd do anything for Keith and Mick as long as they keep playing that song."

Sandy knew she was going to have to give up her undies but she made believe she was a shy slut, backing down to the music until she was right above a certain someone with her short skirt sliding high and then reaching through and tugging the hem forward between her legs to keep the woman's dirty eyes out.

"When I reach down all the way like that it squishes my tits in my arms to where I can't see around them? I kept on trying to look around at my behind, knowing everytime I did it was making some new guy cross-eyed when my cherry-red pointed nips turned on him. Only now I figured it was time to finally deliver?"

Sandy got down off her high horse and got down to bizness. Her big hooters flopped forward and began to swing and smack to the rock-n-roll beat as she hiked her concealing skirt all the way to her hips and completely revealed her skimpy pink lingerie.

"I swear to God it was like electricity? Instead of dragging the stretchy waistband down the backside of my ass like I expected, a long-nailed finger goosed into my hairy diamond and tickled the bottom of my cuntly crack. I could feel her rolling my sticky flesh and the slippery fabric together as she pinched the moist strip of nylon away and began to gather it slowly around her probing hand. She was pulling the panties she had won off me from the crotch down! And I was wiggling like crazy at the crazy feelings it was giving me!"

Sandy was afraid that it would have to stop after the woman had gotten the panties stretched in a tight straight line between her spread-out thighs, but it wasn't happening that way. Instead she felt a smooth arm wrap around her waist for support as her feet and knees were coaxed together and the bare pink nylon briefs dropped to her ankles. Now Sandy was afraid that it wouldn't stop, that she would come right there in front of everyone before she had even done the dirty stuff.

"That's what they pay me for? It ain't because I always know who I'm playing to--it's because I have such a dirty mind!! I stepped one foot out and then kicked the panties I had lost back to the butch behind me. I knew everyone's eyes were on my bushy pussy now. But they weren't seeing half of it?"

Sandy spread her twat open with her hands until the cords that held her legs on were stretched tight and her ruffled meaty cuntlips were tasting and kissing the air. The men could always tell just by looking at it how good it would feel to put their fucking fuckers in a real fucking hole. And just in case they couldn't, Sandy was showing them the way the deluxe model worked.

"I like to make dicks hard? I think I like it almost as much as pumping them until they spurt their juice and then squeezing them up hard again. I can't never get enough? Anyway, I haven't yet. I was rocking my hips slow and frigging and stretching my sexy slit every way until I had a full row of boners just achin' to get at me by the time I had walked down to my knees on the top of the poker table."

"I was so hungry I had to have a taste? 'Come on, Mike. Show me your big hard dick. Cause I got a present for you, honey.' I couldn't blame him for not telling me his name wasn't Mike when I was crouched down on the table right in front of him and I was already dropping his belt and unpopping the buttons of his jeans. Cause I give a REAL GOOD present?"

Sandy didn't believe in sucking cock slow. That was what they made girlfriends for? Her white fingers laced tight around the thick purple shaft, her thumb romping and rubbing the soft tube that ran up its curvy underside. In ten seconds she had his pants pushed back and his heavy hanging balls ping-ponging against the top of the table. She waited just long enough to be sure everyone could get a good look at the rock-hard, nazi-helmeted rod before she dipped her head and plugged the fat hot schlong into the opening between her spread-wide lips.

"I love the way they taste? That's half of the reason I slobber so much when I give head. They taste like the whole raunchy hog, like a spicy sausage rolled in piss and dirt. I love it!! And I know that they love that I love it."

The only thing about wearing her hair long that Sandy didn't like was how it could fall down and get in the way when she tucked in her chin and really got to work. Gooey red-brown strands of it were strung across her cheeks and plastered down around her sticky sucking mouth and she tried to shake it back so they all could see. "MMMRRUMPH, RUMPHH, RAHHMPH!" She was making the loudest, nastiest, slurpingest sounds she could as she fucked the gorgeous stiff penis deep into her face. "WAHHH. AHHHH. WUFFF! WUFFF!"

The guy who wasn't named Mike was reared back and pushed forward as far as he could get, and the whole room was gathered in around them as Sandy did her stuff, rolling around nearly naked on the poker table while she pounded and packed the coming cum up inside his proud pipe. Sandy could feel his legs shaking and knew that everybody else would be watching the changes cross his face as she yanked his balls tight and slammed the thick dick deep into her throat one last time.

"OH SHIT. GODDAMM. GODDAMMIT!" Finally after all this time she was getting more than two words out of this guy. A big hot load of country cream choked into Sandy's mouth, spurting and gushing against her bulging cheeks until her face felt like it was filled to the eyes with thick cum. She couldn't swallow fast enough or squeeze her lips tight enough around his rutting rod to keep the stuff from squirting out.

"After all that time I had spent in teasing him up he was so rock hard horny he couldn't stop cumming. Gobs of glistening white jizz were still pulsing out of his veiny dick when he finally pulled back and popped it free of my blubbering lips. But I wasn't letting him away. I kept on licking and squeezing and sweettalking to it. 'That's a good boy, Mikey,' I was cooing to the birthday boy as I coaxed every oozing ounce of pleasure out of him. 'Mike likes a good cocksucking, doesn't he?' I asked, looking up slyly at the audience that was watching my work. But they were all laughing?"

"I'll never forget it? 'That ain't Mike Torrance!' someone said. 'Mike Torrance's standing right behind you.' 'Yeah!' another voice chipped in. 'Show her your cock, Mike!' I rolled around. There was only one person behind me--the brown-haired girl I had given up my panties to. She was lifting the hem of her loose skirt high up to expose a spread-out pussy, her hand searching wildly down through the dark damp bush between her legs.

"It's gone!" she hammed up, hooking her middle finger deep inside a puffed up scarlet snatch and pulling it from side to side to be sure I got a good eyeful. "...And my balls, too!"

"Now how was I supposed to know? Mike's a guy's name, right? Anyhow, that was how I met Michelle for the first time."

Finkin' a Fookin'

Copyright 2006, Peter S. Baring

Colin couldn't keep from an ungentlemanly laugh at the sight of the lady in distress. A sexy, well dressed girl had suddenly stopped short outside the building society and was scraping and sliding the sole of her high-heeled boot across the pavement as she wobbled and waved on one leg. "Oohh. It's shit. It's fooking DOG shit!" she exclaimed in a hoarse voice filled with revulsion, blushing and looking furiously over at him.

She was tall and well-made, dressed in black stretchies and a short shiny bicycling jacket the same blue black color as her cut short black hair. A punk princess, actually. Could have been quite attractive really, if she didn't have a great glob of dog waste stuck on the bottom of her foot. "Fink it's funny, do you?" Her arms were waving wide to keep her balance, a filter fag plugged between sticky pink lips, huffing smoke with the effort of her attempt to clean it off. "Well, then, HELP ME, will you?"

The odour of busted turds almost overcame him, but Colin managed to keep his composure. "Here you go. Lean on this and kick your shoe back and I'll see what I can do." Colin fished a bit of cardstock from the rubbish bin and bent her leg into cobbler's position behind.

The stubbled skin of her ankle shocked his hand as he kneeled and raised her besmirched boot into place. Colin turned his head and stared with lust at a sweet close-up ass that flowed into a wide pear-shape from her waist. She was looking over her shoulder, smirking down at him. "Finkin' about Fuckin'" she said enigmatically. Colin was indeed.

Her tarty face, her made-up eyes seemed completely enchanting to Colin. They glittered green with embarassed amusement as she watched him dollop the foul substance from the instep of her boot.

"Works every time," he said. "Feed the beast in the morning, take it for a little constitutional after tea. Then just stand by with my scaping tool and wait for you. Yea, I'm 'finkin'."

She snickered, openly considering Colin as the two of them stood deciding what to do. The hot cherrystone of her cigarette glowed as she raised a slim, ring covered hand and sucked her cheeks inward hungrily. When her lips came apart during the exhale, Colin could see the swirl of smoke through the gap of a missing tooth. So slutty. Colin didn't trouble to hold back his impulse to get closer. She wanted him. She fit up against his stiffening rod like an open invitation, her hips stirring slightly from side to side as she hung her elbows up over his shoulders and grinned goofily. "I live two doors down."

"I can't wait to get my clothes off finally and get out of these god-damned shitty shoes," she said, "After standing in the bloody fings all day as well. Wouldn't mind a friendly bonk if a gentleman could provide one, either." Colin assured her he could. He was the Broker of Bonk, with impressive holdings.

"Leave the fookin' dogs in the zoo where they belong," she continued. She was a princesse au natural, just the type that Colin liked. "U O me a good one for that," she said.

Only a tawdry princess could have gotten Colin to drop his normal reserve so quickly. She had a hot heart-shape laced between her thighs, criss-crossed with cords. Inside the door of her flat she brought her hands to her waist and tugged her stretch nylon tights half down to her knees before she bent to unlace her soiled boots, presenting her bona fides, turning a pair of dainty pink skimps inside out. Colin invaded the rearward space with his hand, drew slippery fingers back along the groove.

"Feel my fings," the floozy demanded. They were luby and humid, tight and wanting. Colin jammed his palm in sideways and cracked her hips to one side. She was soaking with pussy-juice, stirring up more moisture against the row of knuckles he was presenting her. The dirty aroma was buzzing like bees behind Colin's brain, hornifying him completely, devouring the last of his inhibitions.

Colin had her absolutely gilled by the time they had swayed into the sitting room from the entry, scattering umbrella stands and bric-a-brac. She went knee down onto a small settee, her peeled pants still holding her ankles close, the heels of her shit- smeared boots pointing back at him. Now he had her slippery slit spread, elbow-sawing long strokes into her widening kerf. He could feel every part of her--her little lady button battering his fingertips, a pound's worth of fleshy quimparts rolling, her bare bottom mincing against his wrist.

Not that a face-down butt bare bumming was bad. All the same, Colin was determined to get a lot further than her femme foyer. Nothing but the bed-chamber would do, and nothing but naked. "First I want you to get your clothing off, darling. Would you do that for me? What's your name, anyhow, sweetheart?"

"Saundra."

There's nothing to make an enlisted man step out of ranks than the notion of the queen of cockdom left standing flat-footed and fuckable without a shred of her former finery. Saundra shrugged off her heavy jacket and pulled her stretchy top up over her head. A set of oversize knockers tumbled free, bobbing upward as she pulled her arms from the garment and bouncing heavily between her knees as she bent to unlace her tall boots and pull them from her feet. Colin had his trousers open in a trice and his sweet insult laid along her nose. Naked except for her name, Saundra began to lick and mouth Colin's fragrant meaty muscled length. "He's nobbut a monster," she sighed appreciatively.

Colin's penile member was a throbbing tommy as Saundra's bright waxy lips went round and she squeezed her cheeky face greedily down the length of his shaft. Now she was sucking like some EC whore taking tariff. Colin laced his fingers behind her neck and let it ride, slipping in and out, long and short, softly first and then hard as steel, again and again, satisfying her cuntinental curiousity, offering her his blunt response to the UK question.

All Colin needed was a cup of tea and a paper as he waited for his sex to be shined. He liked the way that giving him her head kept the bare chested beauty so busy. Her dark lashed eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, a thick drool of saliva juicing from the corners of her mouth as she pumped up and down the length of him. "You're so sexy, Saundra. You do that so very well," he said. He was playing with her ears, twisting short curls of black hair around the delicate shape of them as he looked down enchanted at her jouncing boobs, the straddling sight of her spread wide knees as she sat beneath him. "I think it's time we tended to that cunt of yours, don't you, darling?"

"Fink so." Saundra stood and turned up to Colin for a deep wide kiss, the meaty taste of his member delighting and disgusting him as their mouths came together. "Just don't forget my tits while you do me, OK?"

Colin was already stroking the smooth sided shapes, coaxing them outward from the squeezed space between their bodies, tracing and tickling Saundra's swelling nipples. "Pinch UM!" she demanded, her voice hot against his ear. And when he took the chewy nibs between his thumbs and fingers she went absolutely wild.

Saundra's bedroom was as earthy and open as she was. Crumpled covers on a big bouncy bed, and she backed into a sexy scent mixed equal parts from lavender and erotic urgency. "Knew U'd come tonight," she lied shamelesly, raising her bare knees to show Colin why, fingering apart a hole in the center of her fleshy slit, teasing and tempting him with her big black made-up eyes.

Colin bent his prong downward and gave himself a priming pump with his clenched fist, directing the velvet arrowhead down into Saundra's thicket to flush her female fauna. By now her cunt was wide opened, the slippery entrance swelling tight, swelling spread as he nudged his thick veiny rod inward.

"Ooh, uhh, yeah!" Saundra gasped. "Do it! Put it in ALL the way." She had her head thrown backwards, her throat exposed, and Colin could feel the buzz of her pleasure build as he pressed a kiss against her voicebox, as he kicked wedges beneath the double doors of her thighs and powered his column down deep into her warm womanly regions.

"OH!!! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" His palms were squeezing and shoveling Saundra's chesty sensitives, and it was so lovely to feel her pelvis shake and tighten around him in response to his rude handling. Colin had begun the four-year programme, steady as seasons, regular as a day job while his hands took on their extra-curricular activities.

The more that one part of Colin tried to remain gallant the more something about Saundra just kept drawing him further into her filthy fantasies. She led him on up the dark alley where Miss Kiss-it used to take Harry Balls, kicking and banging her trashy cans, digging through her stinky slops until she had gotten him right down to the recyclables. Saundra's punky puss-ass was tipped up at Colin, wriggling with desire around his driving shaft. "Jock me, you dumb stud!" she was demanding in a muffled urgent voice. Who the hell was she calling dumb!

In a moment Colin's hot temper had Saundra spitting and hissing like an overfilled kettle on the range, her dark-lashed eyes squeezing shut with sexual longing then popping wide and sightless as he gave her the pink banana, bumped her whole fruit stand into disarray. "That's...SO...GOOD!" she gasped. "Ride me! RIDE ME FAHSTER!"

He had his rod right in her now, his balls beginning to sling and swing as he got his driving directions and motored into Saundra- land. She was beginning to come on so sweet to him now, kicking and pedaling the air. Colin was trying to get a good grip on her big boobies but the girl kept wriggling free and making him grab, squeeze, tug them again and again.

"OHHH. I LOVE it. I LOVE it!" Saundra was sighing. She was mincing her pleasure-treasure thing all along his sticky shaft, stroking his raging tool with her whole cuntly body, talking in torrents now as the hint of a climax flashed inside her. "Don't it feel good? Oh, it feels so GOOD! OH! OOH! Right! Right! Fuck my NARSTY wet slit, you fucker, fuck my dirty hairy slit.