Myra's face took on a kind of feverish glow. "Yes…yes…" she said. "Yes…more… " And her pretty face, with its halo of closely curled, blonde ringlets-almost a white version of a mini-Afro-turned down to the lush sight below her. Her thin-lipped, pretty mouth, with its gleaming white teeth, dipped down the brown thighs to kiss first the auburn bush, then the outer lips of the fleshly jewel within it
Nan shivered wildly at this. She was, to tell the truth, still a little sensitive from the thorough tonguing she had received from Mary Alice that morning, and it came as no surprise to her to find that the first time Myra's lovely lips touched the flesh inside her wide-open cunt she was ready to come. And the voice that escaped her was even deeper and hoarser than before.
"Oh, God, Myra," she said. "Oh…God…my cunt's on fire…oh, your mouth, your mouth feels so lovely…so sweet so delicate, so…oh, God, oh, don't touch my button, baby, I'm raw, just lick inside my cunt, darling…yes, oh, yes, that's it…lick all around inside…Oh, Christ…oh…oh…oh, God, your tongue's so long, oh, baby, I can't stand it oh, please do it some more, sweetheart…Oh, Jesus! Oh, God!"
Myra, it seemed, had a surprise or two in store. Her tongue was a good two inches longer than normal, and now, as she worked her pretty face farther and farther down inside Nan's open vagina, she protruded the potent appendage farther, deeper, until, coming out of her thin lips, it had the appearance of a small but not insubstantial sort of penis, long enough to penetrate the inner lips and pass the area where Nan's hymen had been. Now, stuck out to its complete length, it probed her insides, washing the lovely pink flesh clean, lapping up the juices that lubricated her tingling and sensitive insides.
Nan was more and more aroused by this: it was truly an amazing and totally new experience for her. Her voice grew less and less controlled: "Oh, yes, oh, God, honey…what a tongue…oh, yes, lick me, lick my cunt, I can't stand it if you stop, don't stop, sweetheart…oh, God, spear me there…it's like you were fucking me…it's like a lovely little cock, oh, Myra, it's so beautiful…oh, baby, don't stop now, sweetie…ph, fuck…fuck me, honey…oh, yes now, deeper, deep inside me, fill me up, baby…Oh, God!"
Myra's attack was growing more and more spirited, and now it moved higher, to lick up the inner sides of Nan's wetly tumescent vaginal lips, drawing more and more of the rich juices of Nan's body inside her ravenously hungry mouth. Nan could hardly take this. Her feet kicked high in the air; the little thong sandals, flew wildly across the room as her gyrating feet flailed back and forth. Her hands went to her own little breasts, mashing them roughly beneath her palms; the nipples grew hard and long, protruding between her kneading fingers as she masturbated them deliciously.
"God, Myra, you're…oh, don't, honey…oh, don't, sweetheart, I'm so sensitive…oh, don't suck my button, baby.. oh, no, baby, don't…OH GOD! OH, MYRA! Oh, heavens, oh, God, please, no, baby…don't lick me there…oh, your tongue's so long and rough…oh, God, I'm so tender…I'm so sore there…Oh, Christ, it hurts, hurts, hurts, oh, no, baby…Please, please, please no, no, no, don't suck there, no, don't suck it in your mouth, oh, I can't stand it…Myra…Myra…NO! NO! NOOOOO-OOOOl"
Myra's kisses left the forbidden area as Nan came, shrieked, spasmed, subsided, collapsed with her legs hooked affectionately around Myra's lovely neck. She kissed Nan on each delicate inner thigh, then, relaxing, laid her head softly on the lush bush of wet cunt hair, her cheek nestling closely to it She had come, sweetly and silently, herself as Nan shrieked her way into semi-oblivion-come gently and happily with Nan's pretty little red clitoris nestled gently between her red and perfectly formed lips, the great length of her tongue withdrawn now, only the barest tip of it touching Nan's detumescent flesh. Now she lay, her head on Nan's crotch, a little smile of victory on her pleased face…
Chapter 9
Between them they made short work of the final touches that remained to Nan's clean up of Mary Alice's house. Myra pitched in with a will; as they passed each other in the hall, once, Nan was astonished to see her new friend blushing body. Well, why not! she said, after her first reaction. That was quite a session we had there a few minutes ago…
Rather than have to change twice, Nan slipped into a fetching dashiki she'd picked up in an Algerian-owned store in Nice and wore that to class. It proved much less awkward undressing in the little studio room; all she had to do was step out of her sandals, slip the robe over her head, and she was ready for the pose. Myra wanted a semi-seated attitude out of her, with her seated well forward on the seat, facing slightly to her right, right leg flexed, left leg extended well behind her. This, she explained, gave the body a nice long line and would set the pupils severe problems in the rendering of muscular masses under stress. Myra kept her so busy, moving this hand here, setting that foot there, as the students bustled about, setting up their own easels and preparing their palettes, that she hardly had time to be embarrassed at being naked in front of a roomful of strangers.
Not that it was that much like being naked in front of other people at all-at first. The eyes that turned her way, once the setups had been completed and the students were ready to paint, were intent, focused upon her body as an abstract thing-a problem in composition, in line, in color balance. If it were only for the students, she thought, posing would be a thoroughly boring exercise, made tolerable only by the delightfully comfortable feeling induced by the combination of the cooling evening air coming in through the open door and the warmth of the tights focused upon her. Marie-Helene had been right about one thing: it felt better than any clothing she could wear.
And the feeling of being no more than an inanimate object on display was quickly dispelled by the warm glances Myra gave her whenever she chanced to look Nan's way-which was often. Her hot gaze swept across her body like a caressing hand; the raw sensuality of it sent little chills of pleased titillation through Nan's body, and brought out goose bumps quickly erased by the warm lights.
There was a little patio set up outside, between the little houses; in it an assortment of tables and chairs had been set up to allow the teachers and students, when time permitted, to eat lunch under the trees, or hold impromptu classes al fresco, or just take their ease in the deep shade. Nan, her eyes fixed on the rear of the classroom by her pose, could see through it now, and could see that she was on display to the small group gathered there in the rapidly cooling air of the early evening. And somehow she found their gaze sexy, challenging, where the students' semi-professional air of detachment was like being monitored by robot television cameras. She could make out faces out there still; few of them were people she'd met yet Once she saw Louise, the office girl, pass, a worried look on her face. Nan wished she would look in, but she went single-mindedly on her way. Once, too, Lloyd die dance teacher passed; he looked in and waved in a friendly fashion, his mouth making a round O, his eyebrows lifting comically.
Then, a little later, just after her break, she saw Avram the ceramics man look in. She half expected him to blush with embarrassment; he had this air of shyness yon sometimes see in very large men. But Avram's warm grin of recognition gave way to a very frank, very unashamedly sexual appraisal of her body, placed so enticingly on display for him by the pose (which suddenly felt very, very naked indeed, spreading her apart the way it did; she knew the position of her legs left her slit wide open in its little bush of red hair, exposing the pouting pink lips for everyone to see). Most especially, his eyes lingered hungrily on her pretty little breasts, which the mechanics of the pose caused to hang as temptingly as fruit on a tree. She was pleased with this; she was proud of the perfect shape of her little breasts, and was always flattered to see they were getting attention. Her answering smile to Avram carried an air of open invitation that-the moment he'd waved goodbye and slipped out the door-surprised her again.