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"Beautiful!" Phil cried.

She felt the skirt lifted to her waist, hung there, then fingertips tracing the forms of her cheeks and Phil's warm breath fanning them.

"Pearly," he said. "Like two full moons. You ready, Susie?"

"Yes-s!" she said, her voice hissing, quite strangely excited, gasping when a wet lash laid a cool streak on her right cheek. It ended in a light suction, which remained for a moment, followed by a gentle nibbling.

She closed her eyes.

Phil's lips wandered across her cleft to the other cheek, marked a curving course down it, suckered fast. A nibble. A pull. Moving on across the cleft again to the other, wetting and pulling and nipping flesh until the many little kisses and caresses had both cheeks tingling most pleasurably, producing a warmth that glowed right into the heart of her.

"Susie, you don't mind?"

"It feels very nice," she had to admit. "I mean, Phil, my husband is so harsh, I find this puzzling. But sweet."

He renewed his labial attack, his kisses – now voracious, circling each cheek, leaping to the other, nibbles more frequent, some a bit painful, though she came to find them strangely exciting.

He paused, breathing hotly on her lower cleft. "Susie, you're getting wet."

"I am?"

"Yes, there's drool slipping out and running down your thighs. Shall I lick it up?"

Having no tissues with which to mop up the juice, she guessed something should be done about it, or she would stain whatever she sat on.

She said, "That might be best," and moved her knees farther apart to let him get in between her thighs. And oh, the lovely wet caressing feel of his tongue down there, lapping steadily at the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs!

He murmured, "Your pussy smells great, sweet and hot."

She had to admit to herself that it felt good, too, pleasantly loose and quivering on each tongue-lash of her thighs.

She said, choking, "I suppose – it's somewhat – open?"

"Yes, and sort of blinking at me."

She thought she heard a suppressed chuckle. Teasing her.

He said, "I could lick the juice off it, too."

That, Susie thought, was going beyond their agreement but she was tempted to let him, especially as his tongue-tip slitted between her pussy lips and thighs, nudging in thrilling fashion.

He relieved her dilemma by saying, "There, kissing your ass was as sweet as I'd hoped, Susie. So now let's talk."

Sighing with regret, she climbed off the stool, turned about on it and sat facing Phil.

He began, "No good with your husband, huh?"

"He thinks a woman should scream with joy when he brutalizes her."

Phil reached to Susie and patted her knee comfortingly.

She clasped his hand, said, "I began to wonder if I wasn't a man-hater. But you're so sweet, Phil." Then her gaze fell on Volume C of the encyclopedia. She said, "I have another problem. It seems dreadful to mention it to you. Embarrassing!"

"Susie, it's my turn to try to understand."

His gaze was so sympathetic that Susie came out with it. "I have too much clit."

His eyebrow raised wonderingly, and he gazed toward her crotch. "Too much? I don't get it. Maybe you'd better show me."

Goodness, she thought. Display it to him? Oh, wow! But something made her want to show Phil, perhaps his frankly expressed desire to kiss and lick her behind, a strange sharing that seemed to make all else possible.

She said, "You won't laugh?"

"No! It might be therapeutic, Susie."

Blushing she drew back her skirt, and, sitting there on the stool, spread her cocked-up legs and fingered her pussy lips open.

Her clit was semi-erect, a glistening pink worm. She slipped a fingertip under it and raised to display it to him.

Phil's response was direct. He reached, gently lifted it off her finger and enclosed it in the warmth of his own fingertips.

She watched him toy with the little appendage, caressing it in such fashion that it quickly achieved full, horny stiffness. And it heated. It was pulsing excitedly.

"It's beautiful," Phil murmured. "Susie, clits are often hard to find, sometimes way inside. But yours, gosh, I can really hold onto it!"

She was so pleased that she leaned to Phil and kissed his cheek. Relieved! She clutched his bare shoulders and nuzzled about his face while he lightly massaged her little jinker.

"You like it?" she whispered in his ear.

"Susie, I'd like to get down on it. Lick it. You want?"

The proposal excited her, but rubbing her mouth on Phil's cheek, she gazed down at the tent in his pink panties and got rather different ideas.

She said, "No, but don't stop what you're doing."

Then she reached down his chest, down his belly to the panty waistband. She slid her fingers inside, down into a girl's panties in search of the strangest object ever found within such a garment. Her fingertips touched it. Bony hard! And hot, so hot as her fingers vined about it, caressing the stony flesh, walking out to the end of it and the great, spongy knob.

"Susie!" he gasped, as though surprised.

And she murmured in his ear, "Wow, such a hard penis. Okay if I hold it?"

"Sure, but be careful with the glans, it gets irritated."

She was dubious about the location of the glans. The head? It looked all fiery. She delved deeper into the panty crotch and found his scrotum heaped there where the garment was shaped to hug a pussy, which made her giggle. Imagine, male organs encased in nylon that had no opening through which his prick could be let out to pee! How nutty. But sensual too, feeling girl nylon on her knuckles, but the sac of plump testicles in her cupped hand. She loved the feel of them, like shelled, hard-boiled eggs, wobbling about as she jiggled them.

He said, "Susie, you're a very sensual girl, you know that? Jiggling my nuts that way."

"They're yummy nuts," Susie said, then felt a blush burn her cheek. What she had said! Nuts, to a boy. But the situation was unusual, they sitting spread-legged on stools facing, she nuzzling his cheek, he lovingly squeezing and pulling her extended clit, she with a hand in his pink panties holding his testicles, the length of his horny organ a burning brand against her forearm. She drew back enough to see his eyes and asked, "Phil, do I seem prudish? I mean, I just said nuts when I meant testicles, and it made me burn with shame."

"I was worse until Willa untied my tongue. Susie, however you talk or act, I love it."

"But that may not be the real me," she said thoughtfully, sure that this Susie in the wood-nymph tunic with one breast bare, fondling a boy's testicles in pink nylon panties, sitting on the stool with thighs winged out so he could finger her clitoris, was a girl who had not existed before, a product of Kashmir Karma and jiji, who had a scant hour before been astonished by her unmasked lesbian tendencies. Within her still lurked the Susie who was Brian's trampled wife, whose only outlet was self-abuse; a shy and probably prissy homemaker.

She felt Phil's soft lips press her forehead.

The tender kiss made her smile with pleasure. She gazed down his body to his stretched panties, where she let his scrotum rest in the pussy-shaped crotch and began fingering his rigid stem. The underside of the head pressed her wrist. It felt hot and a bit sticky. Thumb-nailing the split she found the source of this, a slight seepage. She pressed all about the sponginess of the head, found the plushy sheathing of the organ to be thick, the boniness within a rather small core. This explained why such a swollen knob could fit into a vagina, she thought, the outer softness changing shape as required.

Never before had she examined a penis in such detail. She enjoyed every moment of it, and her self-confidence grew out of Phil's patience and his obvious pleasure in their sexuality.

She glanced at her crotch, saw Phil's fingertips tugging her prong of wet pink clit. Her brown-haired pussy lips had ovalled out from it, and the glistening flesh of her cunt appeared swollen, especially the protruding lips bracketing the drooling mouth of her love hole.