As Suzanne sucked the sperm from her teeth, she giggled. Remembering the story Channing had told her earlier.
"You really sent that little tramp Babette a letter you had jacked off all over?"
"I said so, didn't I?"
"Aren't you being too good to her?"
"I'm like that. Hold still, Suzanne."
Suzanne continued to move her hiney from side to side. The lips of her pussy moistened the head of Channing's throbbing pecker.
Her hands ceased jacking its length.
It was full now.
With dense blood condensing within. Pumping it up to new immensity.
"Hold still."
"Uh uh. I know what I'm doing."
Channing felt the ridges of the rim around her blowhole fritter his member.
Her asshole seemed to nibble the head of his wanger. Smooching it like a fish kiss.
The asshole suddenly came to rest straight front and center on his peckerhead.
"Spread my ass."
Channing fobbed the fannycheeks farther apart.
"You'll want to run your fingers right up."
"How did you know, Suzanne?"
"I'm psychic."
Channing spread his palm out between her pussy-lips. Drenched his fist with her goo, kneaded it in thickly.
He massaged the lubricating ladyjuice into the fluffy donut of her asshole.
"Ayn!"
Then he hooked a finger into the wrinkled crinkle in between the asscheeks.
"Eeeeeh."
The finger squeaked in to the first knuckle. Her legs gave.
Body buckled.
Channing drew the digit out.
Wrapped another around it.
Corkscrewed in up her butt.
"Aaaaah. Yes."
Suzanne flicked her hair like a wet mane.
Slicked her lips.
Licked her chin.
Whipped her tits.
Climbed on his fist.
Flagged her clit with her free hand.
"That was too far, Channing. Even for you. To even send someone like Babette a letter. Let alone with your vital juices enclosed."
"Sure. Only it wasn't a letter exactly. It was a love poem."
"Fucker," Suzanne seethed.
She blubbered hot saliva through her lips. Clenched her teeth.
Wrenched herself at the waist.
She hopped off his curled digits. The asshole squealed shut.
Channing rubbed his prick now in the cranny of her asscheeks.
He gripped her hips.
She bucked her buttocks.
Channing's embrace about her hips brought her up fast. Popped her onto his prong.
Suzanne's asshole snapped on over the head of Channing's prick. With a jolt, a rut, and a gasp, she was on halfway.
"Unh unh unh."
"You really were a virgin this way."
"Yeah, Channing. First time for everything. And I intend to do everything."
"Say, Channing. After we rumphump, can you get some of that stuff?"
"Which?"
"Smoke."
"Uh. It's still packed. I guess so. Sure. I only have a little bit with me."
"No big deal. Just wanted to give it a whirl. As long as your parents aren't in town."
"Yeah. Well, we'll have most of the rest of the summer then."
"Got this place to yourself?"
"Afraid so. Don't know how I'll amuse myself."
"Way to go."
He increased his hump.
Dick delved deeper into her rump.
Her hiney began to pump.
Taking cock up her asshole to the stump. Then arching in a twist to the side.
"I think that's a kick."
"About Babette?"
"Yeah. What did she think?"
"Haven't talked to her since."
"Why not? You should be able to butter her up real nicely after that stunt."
"I intend to. When she gets back. She's with her group. They're down at the state fair near the capital this week."
"Oh. Those Boppettes or whatever the fuck they call themselves. I can see why the old folks think she's trashy. You know. Your parents think that all performing artists are whores."
"I think that's boring."
"Then why don't you liven things up?"
"How so?"
"Go down to see Babette at the fair. Shell be looser away from home, I'm sure."
"Probably right. I could get a room somewhere. Are there any halfway discreet private hotels around that overgrown farmtown?"
"Not that I know of. But my daddy sometimes stays in this little hideaway the governor keeps. He started that when he was still married to my mother. I never said anything to his new wife about it. Figured it served her right."
"Well, I'll see what I can come up with. Might be a gas."
"You're really that hot on her?"
"She's around. And about the best of the local lot of inbred missies and cornfed lassies."
"Ha ha. You're talking about her as if she were a farmgirl. That she's not."
"Yeah. I know. Everything all over the country is like the suburbs. Except a few places along the coasts that aren't totally infected. Even those supposed elite resorts in the mountains are full of shopping-mail shit."
"But you still want to fuck her."
Channing shrugged his shoulders as he humped Suzanne's ass.
The asshole oinked open and the twanger sprang in deeper.
His ballocks whapped the backs of her thighs. Water crept from her eyes.
"It's so good."
"So don't be so selfish. Let someone else have a go at it. You mean you don't want to fuck anyone else?"
"No one around here is as good as you."
"Didn't you fuck on Patrick Halloran?"
"A couple times."
"Who else?"
"I won't go into that now. Too boring, Channing. Maybe sometime else."
"Too much. You must know all the little old ladies say you're a slut. How many at least?"
"In due course. But not too many. Most of the boys around here are afraid of me. They think I'll corrupt them more than they want to be corrupted. You know-I'll snatch their manhood."
"Maybe so."
Channing chomped on her back. He dragged his sopping choppers across her shoulders.
Spread his saliva with his tongue down the side of her neck.
All the while running his cock up inside her. Grunting it up her bum.
The pressure in his ballocks increased. Washes of sweat greased from his underarms.
Dots of perspiration collected across his shoulders and chest.
In the small of his back.
Sweat of rut dripped from his balls.
Swaying moistly as Channing pounded his pecker away up Suzanne's rumphole.
He frictioned her clit maniacally with his thumb. She chewed with contorted lips. Showering sputum from her jaw.
The fuckstress wrenched her fanny like a horse. The prick shot off in a burst.
Suzanne's jabbering asshole hassled with the jumping jissorn that jibbered from his juddering jim-jam. Her asshole stuttered on the fluttering prick-stem. Pucker smooching.
Rubber asshole rim chewing.
Asshole chattering away.
Pulling pulses of cream from Channing's pululating prickspear.
Like a trickster, he turned on her.
The penis slid out of her yawning pucker. Her asshole snickered.
Her wrinkle pouted.
Cords of come knotted down the backs of Suzanne's thighs.
Come collected at her knees.
Her own joyjuice trickled out.
Muttering cuntlips.
Stinging clitbud.
Nipples thick as thumbs.
Sharp as darts.
Hard as nails.
Suzanne stuck her hand over one tit. Seemed to pierce her skin, that tight nip.
"So, what do you say, Channing? You want to fuck on that little tart Babette? Why don't you make it a little fun?"
"How do you mean?"
"I can think of lots of things. No sense in playing her straight."
"You mean, you think I should try to get her to do something depraved?"
"Can't think of anything that is."
"But I might play around with her head just for kicks. I'm afraid I'm not quite like you, Suzanne. At least not yet."
"We could leave tonight," Suzanne said.
"Huh?"
"That's what I said."
"You said -'we.'".
Suzanne nodded.
"Why the fuck would you want to go down to the state fair. Thought none of the livestock would interest you at all."
"Really. Some aren't too bad. You know, Babette and the other girls in the band do have something special about them physically, in a fresh, all-American sort of way."