"Good lick."
"Thanks. Oh, and-uh, Babette. Give it a few yanks for me. Won't you?"
"What?"
"Your furbag. Your clit. Give your goodies a good hit for me."
"Jeez."
"Nighty-night."
"Outasight."
Babette tightened her mouth.
Who else should she call?
Or was it past that point already.
There was a spinning in her head. Grinning in the smile below her belt.
Babette reached down and felt.
Damp beaver pelt.
Itching like a bitch.
Her hips did twitch.
Stabbed her clit.
Flinched.
Dabbed her fingers in her cleft.
Pusslips sighed apart.
Pressed in with her fingers.
Sank in an inch.
"Unh."
She saw Channing's face before her. Staring into her eyes.
Trying her bod on for size. Rise in his thighs.
Somehow, Babette was more comfortable with him in her imagination. In her fantasy world, where she could do anything she pleased.
Babette flipped her fanny up.
She arched her back.
Pressed her pussy to the bedpost.
Rocked her haunch.
Felt the raunch run out of her quim.
Thinking of him.
In the state they were in.
"Do you really love me?" she said to him in her mind. "Like you said?"
"I meant every word."
"It's not just so-uh-you know. So you can get my pants down."
"Of course not, Babette."
"I hope you don't think I'm rude. But, you know. A girl has got to watch out."
"I know. A lot of guys are like that. But I'm not like that. I'm different."
"Mmmmm. Your kisses are different."
"Babette?"
"Yum."
"You didn't tell me."
"Oh?"
"That you love me."
"Oh, yes, Channing. I thought you knew. Of course I do."
"Now spread your legs."
"Beg."
"I beg you to fuck."
"That is love. Will you be rough?"
"Enough."
"Do any other stuff?"
"You know I'm tough."
"Mmm. Better say please."
"Please spread your legs."
"Do you think I'm a tease?"
"Want me on my knees?"
"Good idea."
In Babette's fantasization, Channing Bentley IV found humility before her.
He sank to one knee. Like a gallant knight or a Prince Charming.
His honor was disarming.
He wouldn't take advantage of a maid.
Not that he wouldn't take her.
Make her.
Stroke her.
Poke her.
But he would not want to warp her.
He would fuck her honestly.
Fuck her straightforwardly.
Fuck her with honor.
"I'm honored," she imagined he said.
Kissed her hand.
Licked it.
Fondled her wrist.
Brought it down.
Between his legs.
Babette felt the hard thing between his legs. Like a wild thing.
Moving, with a life of its own. Scurrying somewhere within itself.
The thickness, the heft. The balls hobbling beneath the prick.
Babette could feel it through the material in his pants. And it sure felt real. So real her cunt peeled off another layer of skin as she humped with her rump against her bedpost.
Where was it?
His poetry.
Babette seized up the crinkled paper. Dripping with her cuntcream and Channing's jissom. She tried to read the verse once more.
But the ink had run.
Smeared.
Poetry destroyed.
Well, she'd make more.
"You want me to touch you more there?" Babette asked him in her mind.
"Yes. Naked."
Babette unsnapped his-what? She'd make it a swimsuit he was wearing.
So in that case, she would just have to untie the string, maybe.
Naw. Still too complicated.
He wore a-hell, he wore a fucking towel and they were in the sauna!
Didn't have to do anything.
His cock stood straight out in his crotch. The prick leapt at her first touch.
The towel slid down.
The cock popped up.
Babette dropped her palm. Wrapped it about the haft of Channing's honker.
Drifted her fingers up and down along the length of the erection.
Rubbed her fingers around the rim right behind the head. Twisted the cock.
Strangled its neck.
"Uh," he said.
"Good?"
"Unh huh."
"How about this?"
"Yes."
Babette ran her fingers up and down the curled up paper upon which Channing's poem had been written. Her eyes went blank.
She was smitten.
Could actually feel the cock.
As though it were there.
Caught in her hair.
As Babette craned her neck.
Brought her rubyfruit lips into contact with cock. Hard as a rock.
Slickered it first.
Ran her pointed tongue down the prick from the head to the root. Took the shoots of pudhair between her teeth.
Twirled them gently.
Yanked out.
"Oooooh."
She smelled the oil of his ballocks. Saw the nuts beef up in size.
She gave the nougats a squeeze.
Saw his belly stiffen. Muscles all around his haunch tightened as if in fright.
"Awk!"
"It didn't hurt, now. Did it, Channing? I didn't mean to, you know."
"It's okay."
Babette tightened her fingers about the twanger again. Shafted her fist up.
Stretched the prick out.
Jackhammered down.
"Unh."
Jerked it up again.
Then hawked the hog in her yip. Piping it down her throat.
"Oh. Ah."
Babette sucked the dick in deeper with each suctioning breath. Simultaneously she stroked the poker with her fingers.
Then in midst of suck, she roughed it up. Snagged the scrotum with her fingernails. Nabbed the nuts with her thumb.
"Ngh."
"Just for fan."
"No, Babette. It's great. I can't wait. Jeez. I'm going to come."
Babette hopped her head on the hog. Crammed it down her throat.
Bloated her cheeks and blew out.
The prick popped backward. Till her teeth took hold of it by the head.
"Ahhhh."
She crackled her teeth on it. Crunched the crispy cockmeat in her chompers.
"Great, Babette."
Babette fanned the waving ballsac with her open hand. Hustling his hump.
Fistfucking his penis.
Mouthfucking her face.
She plopped her hand into place. Stirred his balls like crazy.
The jissom fizzed.
"Eaugh."
Mist cloaked her eyes.
Tears of passion and joy jumped down her face. Eroticizing with the smutch of her saliva. Collected on her jawline.
Dripped from her chin.
Hit.
Splat!
Between the tits.
Mixed with the sweat sliming out from her underarms. The pungent mulch creamed over her belly. Angled down and in.
Joined the ooze from her loins.
Babette closed the balls together like two shells of a clam.
She sensed the sperm shaking loose.
Felt the eruption up the cords and into the root of the dickmeat. Stroking and suckering, she knew the come was coursing toward the head.
Babette herky-jerked her head.
Worked her tongue and lips.
Pressed in upon his asscheek.
Pulled his nutsac.
Yanked her head back.
Cra-a-ack!
Took a splat.
Come snapped against her teeth.
She parted her mouth wider.
The come inside hung momentarily in strands from her lips and teeth. Babette breathed deeply and applied her mouth organ.
The sperm flew right down her throat.
She began to gloat.
And the next shot of jizz was the biggest one yet. Pressuring her facecheeks from inside. Filling the spaces between her teeth. Clogging her nose and choking her throat.
"Unh-unh-nh."
Babette shook her head.
Hogged more of the cream from his honker. Slid her hands in jacking action.
Bent her head back. Popped the pecker from her mouth. Dropped her chin.
One of the last blasts of choadmucus traced a line over her face.
Squiggling on her cheek.
Dappling her jabbering jaw.
Babette reached and took hold of the prick once more. Milked it like-not a cow, silly, she observed to herself.