"Wha… What are you going to do?" he asked. "I'm going to suck your cock and drink your cum," Tammy whispered from the side of her mouth.
"You mean, you'll drink it?" he asked.
"Ummmmmhuuuuhbh!" she whispered, and then forced her lips further down the shaft.
"Oh God, that's good!" he said, jutting his hips upward. "So fucking good!"
Tammy encircled his prick with her tight, hungry mouth, inching her lips slowly toward the base. She fondled and squeezed his young, furry balls and rolled them around on her cheeks. After a few seconds, her lips were pursed wetly around the full length of his dick, his cockhead buzzing against her tonsils.
She felt her cunt begin to glow with hungry warmth, as spasms of desire constricted the tight, frothy canal. She pulled her mouth upwards, almost totally releasing his prick, and then lunged back down quickly, swallowing every delicious inch. Again, she raised her head to repeat the same action, but she felt a pressure against the back of her head, burying her face savagely into his acrid smelling crotch.
"Now!" he grunted. "I can't help it!"
He rolled her over on her side and pulled his knees up, hugging her neck in a tight grasp. He humped his hips forward and oiled out.
"Suck it!" he said, his voice a painful whisper.
The gigantic wads of sperm stormed up the center of his shaft and splattered against the back of Tammy's throat causing her to gag on the enormous amount.
She gurgled out a protest, but it was useless. She drank it quickly, but the fluid filled her mouth, bursting upward, back out, totally filling her throat, nose and mouth. A huge glob of hot, creamy jism squirted out of both her nostrils, wetting up her lips.
He pumped her mouth full of cum with several, quick rabbit-like thrusts, and then with a final, violent lunge, he buried the last pulsating glob of cum into her lungs.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, quickly slipping away, his cock flopping out of Tammy's mouth with a smacking sound.
For a couple of seconds, Tammy couldn't answer. She exhaled, the gooey masses of spurn that lubricated her voice box caused her voice to gurgle. "No," she answered. "God, you were sure eager to go!"
"It was my first time. I'm sorry."
"Well, don't be," she said, pulling him over on top of her. "You ram that hot prick into my pussy now, and fuck it just like you did my mouth!"
He spread her legs with his knees, and with one quick stroke, he slammed the full length of his dick into her guts.
"Uuuummmmpppph!" Tammy grunted as the painful penetration caused her to gasp.
He held her shoulders with both hands and clamped his mouth around her right breast, smacking hungrily on her hard, jutting nipple.
His eagerness was catching. Tammy began to feel a delicious warmth surge into her pussy, filling her with hunger. The thickness of his meat slipped tightly against her constricting ring of pussy muscle, snug as a wet glove.
"Fuck me you little stud," she whispered. "Oh, God; FUCK ME!!"
He plowed into her guts like a piston machine, grinding his cock savagely in and out, his balls slapping against the insides of her thighs.
"My pussy is on firs, you fucking little stud!" Tammy grunted, now matching his slapping movements, meeting them with her own body thrusts. "Fuck me NOW!"
With her last word, she was filled with the warmth of his release, as it burned against her own fiery climax. They pumped and jabbed together, each plateau of orgasm flowing upward, outward. His hot sperm gushed into the back of her pussy and then squirted back, out with his thrusts, wetting up Tammy's asshole with sticky warmth.
A few minutes later, Tammy kissed his shoulder and whispered, "Unmmmm, I'm glad Kevin asked you to take care of me!"
"Can we do it again?" he asked, his breathing hard and, uneven.
"Well, you're supposed to take care of me the whole night, weren't you?"
"I will," he said. "Oh baby, I will!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tammy was reading when she was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. She got up, her eyes still on the book, and opened the door. She was greeted by a chubby, rather sloppily dressed short man of around fifty.
"Tammy Phillips?" he asked.
Tammy nodded her head in puzzlement.
"I've got a warrant here for your arrest," he said, his mouth pursed like a swollen anus.
"What for?" Tammy demanded, looking at the document he was holding out toward her like it was a dead rat.
"Parking ticket," he said primly. "You ignore them, you go to court."
Before Tammy had an opportunity to protest, a uniformed policeman stepped from behind the man and slapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrists.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked, struggling against the pressure of the cop who led her out of the house.
"Seems fairly obvious," the server said with a snort.
"But that isn't even my car, or my license number that's listed on that paper!" Tammy tried to tell them.
"Tell it to the judge," the man said.
"Original, real fucking original."
"Who writes your stuff?" Tammy spat. Tammy couldn't remember when she had been as pissed as she was right now. Her anger mounted almost to a blinding rage as she was roughly pushed into the backseat of the squad car, and driven to the city jail. She was so frustrated, she hardly even was aware of the quick ride. The next moment, she was pushed into the holding tank. The door closed with a final clank. She turned and grasped the bars.
"I'm going to sue your ass for this, you, you, fucking dildo!" she screamed.
"Tell it to the judge," the man said without expression.
"You can bet your ass I will!" she grunted.
Tammy's anger had now subsided to a slow burning. But as she was led into the courtroom later that afternoon, to post bond or face charge. She looked around the brightly lit room, her glance resting briefly on the bored faces. And then she saw the judge.
Monica Walpole's beautiful features was delightfully set off by the somber black robe she was wearing. Her black hair was cropped short, outlining a dark, olive complexion. She held a look of amused detachment as she glanced down at some papers in front of her. She swept her eyes around the courtroom, glancing at the faces, and then shot Tammy a curious gaze.
Tammy forgot her anger immediately as the judge's ebony eyes met hers. Goddamn, she thought, I should have gotten arrested sooner!
Later, when she heard her name called, she stood up.
"Miss Phillips," the judge said. "Do you wish to post bond?"
"What for?" Tammy asked.
"You have been arrested, Miss Phillips," the judge said kindly. "You are charged with violation of…"
"The make, the model and the license number of the car on that warrant for the alleged parking ticket don't belong to me."
"Can you prove this?"
"Certainly," Tammy said with assurance. "Kindly check my registration. It's in my wallet. It was taken from me when I was arrested, for safekeeping."
The bailiff removed her wallet from the valuables envelope and handed it to the judge. She compared the information on the warrant against the registration, and then asked Tammy, "Why didn't you inform the arresting officer that the warrant was correct? He could have easily verified the information over his radio in a couple of minutes."
"I tried to, but he wouldn't listen," Tammy said hotly.
"Where is the arresting officer?" the judge asked loudly, anger in her tone.
The following few minutes were almost comical. Monica Walpole cut the small man down to an even smaller size. When she had dismissed him as she would a dead cockroach, she turned back to Tammy.
"The Court is indeed apologetic for this unfortunate occurrence, Miss Phillips. We beg your forgiveness."
Tammy nodded her head slightly, not knowing what to say.
The judge turned to the bailiff and said, "Have Miss Phillips shown into my chambers, I should like to extend my personal apologies."