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places. However, beauty and ugly are only skin deep; we were about to get below

that level. Debbie is clean, decidedly of the sex opposite mine, and she has

legs that just do not quit. Her mind is certainly of Mensa quality, and her

approach was the biggest turn-on I’ve had since getting my own degree. The fact

that she was above average in physical attributes was a nice bonus, but hardly

necessary under the circumstances.

“Lady, I would be proud and honored to kiss you good-night with your thighs

caressing my ears.” We both pushed her slacks down, so fast that she almost got

a friction burn. Her hands hung coyly at her sides, and I carefully examined a

soft, full delta of strawberry blonde hair.

“Strawberry blonde?” I mused; the hair on her head was definitely chestnut,

an unusual combination.

“My one physical vanity, Daniel … you’re the only other person in this

state who knows my true hair color. I don’t like the way my skin gets along

with my hair color, so I dye the hair.”

“Suits me; I like contrast, and I’ve always wanted to kiss a red-head.”

So saying, I eased her back onto the counter, her slacks under her to insulate

against industrial-cold tile.

“Say, don’t they have security cameras here?”

“Think about it, Daniel: who monitors the rest rooms? On camera? Who can

they trust to keep things honest and not get sued?”

“Well, I guess it seems pretty tough …”

“… and I pumped Joel for the details one night. A lot of the erstwhile

heat sensors are miniature cameras, but there is NO surveillance in the head.

Speaking of which, I believe you were about to give me some … ?”

Her legs opened slowly, and I moved up to get a better view. The thighs

parted, and the definition of her rose-gold pussy was public knowledge between

the two of us. The labia began to part, and I let this be a spectator sport no

more. With a gasp of pleasure from her mouth, a moan of satisfaction from mine,

I dove in headlong with both feet, tongue busy anywhere and everywhere, as the

heady aroma of a sweet woman’s most natural fluids filled my nostrils.

For some reason, I recalled the words of Joey Harris on “My Two Dads”:

“No, no technique; I just go psycho.” Dear reader, that’s how it was. I lost

all rational control, trying to simultaneously insinuate my tongue all the way

to the back of her navel, suck her clitoris at least as far as my upper palate,

and vibrate my lips over the whole of her outer labia. Although I didn’t give

a damn, I was sure that I was hard as a rock. First things first, though, and

second things maybe not at all: for now, I was going to use everything that two

older women had taught me, and return Debbie’s investment in this little esca-

pade a hundredfold. She was going to soak my beard, or my tongue would damned

well fall off from trying and lay on the floor for the early shift to clean up.

From her reaction, I gathered that at least the initial foray was a massive

success. She made more noise than I was comfortable with, but I was not about

to come up for a check. If anyone heard and would walk in on us, they would

find me true to my calling, at my post to the very end. For now, my post was

to give Debbie any and all pleasure I could. Our position was somewhat awkward

for running my hands up to her breasts (I know for sure; I did it, and almost

pulled a muscle trying to keep them there), so I did my best to focus on the

…End of the part6. To be continued..

This entry was posted on Sunday, September 28th, 2008 at 5:33 am and is filed under extreme fetishes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

places. However, beauty and ugly are only skin deep; we were about to get below

that level. Debbie is clean, decidedly of the sex opposite mine, and she has

legs that just do not quit. Her mind is certainly of Mensa quality, and her

approach was the biggest turn-on I’ve had since getting my own degree. The fact

that she was above average in physical attributes was a nice bonus, but hardly

necessary under the circumstances.

“Lady, I would be proud and honored to kiss you good-night with your thighs

caressing my ears.” We both pushed her slacks down, so fast that she almost got

a friction burn. Her hands hung coyly at her sides, and I carefully examined a

soft, full delta of strawberry blonde hair.

“Strawberry blonde?” I mused; the hair on her head was definitely chestnut,

an unusual combination.

“My one physical vanity, Daniel … you’re the only other person in this

state who knows my true hair color. I don’t like the way my skin gets along

with my hair color, so I dye the hair.”

“Suits me; I like contrast, and I’ve always wanted to kiss a red-head.”

So saying, I eased her back onto the counter, her slacks under her to insulate

against industrial-cold tile.

“Say, don’t they have security cameras here?”

“Think about it, Daniel: who monitors the rest rooms? On camera? Who can

they trust to keep things honest and not get sued?”

“Well, I guess it seems pretty tough …”

“… and I pumped Joel for the details one night. A lot of the erstwhile

heat sensors are miniature cameras, but there is NO surveillance in the head.

Speaking of which, I believe you were about to give me some … ?”

Her legs opened slowly, and I moved up to get a better view. The thighs

parted, and the definition of her rose-gold pussy was public knowledge between

the two of us. The labia began to part, and I let this be a spectator sport no

more. With a gasp of pleasure from her mouth, a moan of satisfaction from mine,

I dove in headlong with both feet, tongue busy anywhere and everywhere, as the

heady aroma of a sweet woman’s most natural fluids filled my nostrils.

For some reason, I recalled the words of Joey Harris on “My Two Dads”:

“No, no technique; I just go psycho.” Dear reader, that’s how it was. I lost

all rational control, trying to simultaneously insinuate my tongue all the way

to the back of her navel, suck her clitoris at least as far as my upper palate,

and vibrate my lips over the whole of her outer labia. Although I didn’t give

a damn, I was sure that I was hard as a rock. First things first, though, and

second things maybe not at all: for now, I was going to use everything that two

older women had taught me, and return Debbie’s investment in this little esca-

pade a hundredfold. She was going to soak my beard, or my tongue would damned

well fall off from trying and lay on the floor for the early shift to clean up.

From her reaction, I gathered that at least the initial foray was a massive

success. She made more noise than I was comfortable with, but I was not about

to come up for a check. If anyone heard and would walk in on us, they would

find me true to my calling, at my post to the very end. For now, my post was

to give Debbie any and all pleasure I could. Our position was somewhat awkward

for running my hands up to her breasts (I know for sure; I did it, and almost

pulled a muscle trying to keep them there), so I did my best to focus on the

…End of the part6. To be continued..

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 11th, 2008 at 6:00 am and is filed under ebony fetish, gay fetish, gyno fetish. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.