She hung the cum-stiff pink panties on the back of a chair and skinned off her cunt-damp red ones. The red ones went into Billy's drawer and she slipped the pink ones up her legs. She had another rush of pleasure as they fit against her dripping mound. Her juices mingled with the dried cum, softening it immediately.
Now that the cum was regaining moisture, she could smell the sharp, familiar aroma. She passed a finger over the crotchband and held it up to her nose.
"Yummy cummy," she giggled, feeling foolish for thinking up such a ridiculous rhyme. But she said it again anyway, "yummy cummy for my tummy," and licked her finger. There was a faint taste, nothing at all like when the stuff squirted fresh into her mouth. And she thought again of how that was probably another reason left didn't hang with her too long. She liked to suck cock almost as much as she liked to have one rammed up inside her. She liked to drink jizz so much in fact that when she was going with a guy she generally insisted on being fed at least twice a day in addition to getting fucked. Though the men in her life had never admitted to running out of gas, and cum, that seemed to be the case now that she remembered the circumstances.
She hurried back to her own room, still thinking about the photograph she'd found, the panties Billy had swiped and the ones she'd left in their place. He was going to be one surprised boy when he opened that drawer to play with her underwear. She wondered if he'd have the guts to make a move then? She didn't have to wait long.
It was that evening after supper when Mitch suggested that the family make home-made ice cream and have a moon light swim down at the lake. Of course everyone was enthused, Billy included. Betty gave him a curious glance and there was something in the look that came back. Something that hinted that he'd found her little calling card. Billy blushed, too, though he covered it pretty well by shouting out his approval of the moonlit swim idea.
But someone would have to run to town for some ice to power the ice cream maker. Betty volunteered and asked casually if Billy might like to accompany her. He almost knocked over a chair being agreeable. No one seemed to notice his eagerness. But Betty saw a strange look in her mother's eyes. Maybe Margaret suspected her daughter's motives, Betty thought. She had good reason to. Betty had gotten in a few jams in her life and had to confess a few naughty things to good old Mom. Margaret had been understanding always. As if her own past wasn't completely unsullied either. But tonight Margaret was obviously irked at Betty disappearing with Billy in tow.
While everyone else headed for the lake, Betty steered her father's Cadillac out of the drive and down to the highway.
"Maybe we should get some brandy too," she suggested, glancing at Billy. "Brandy is great with homemade ice cream."
"Sure," Billy nodded. He was sitting on the other side of the car. He had the usual swell in his crotch and Betty was appreciating the way his T-shirt bulged with young muscles. She was wearing a short, white tennis skirt which only served to heighten the effect of her pert, round bottom. A guy had kidded her once about being able to set a beer can on her ass while she was standing and not having it fall off. Of course she had been blessed with a particularly interesting rear. She'd seen Billy looking at it, too, as they'd walked to the car.
As they headed for the lights of town, Betty fooled with her wind blown red curls and smiled across at her younger cousin. She let him see the pout of her wide mouth, the attractive deepness of her eyes. She knew she wasn't a beauty, but she had something. Something special! She was only certain of what it was when a man held her in his arms.
"Glad you came with me," she said, hoping to break the ice.
"Yeah. You look really n-n-nice," he stammered, blushing in the darkness. Betty knew by the sound of his voice that he was embarrassed. She felt certain that he'd discovered her panties.
"God, it's hot," she said, kicking off one sneaker and then the other. Billy eyed her legs. His cock was swollen a good three inches down one pants leg. The Cadillac purred towards town.
"It's really good to see you after all these years," she went on. "I remember when we used to play as kids. When your folks would come visiting."
"Yeah," Billy said. He was looking at her thighs. They were meaty and tan. Not the thighs of a model certainly, but blending well with her short, compact body. They were sexy-looking thighs, not fat at all.
Betty stopped at a convenience store and got the ice. A liquor store up the street yielded a fifth of pretty good brandy and she showed it to Billy to see if he approved.
"I don't know much about booze," he said, "except beer."
"Maybe we should have a little taste before taking it back," she suggested. "After all, we came and got it." Billy opened the cap and they passed the bottle. The glow helped Betty get over her butterflies. She felt more than ever the hunger gnawing deep in her loins. Her cousin sat there, the hot night sending his musky aroma her way. A breeze played around his collar-length blond hair. Betty wanted him. Wanted him very badly.
"Look, let's quit beating around the bush," she said, voice husky with desire. "Do you want me now?"
"God, Betty!" Billy tried to recover his coolness. "Well, sure. I mean…"
She'd already started the Caddy and swung it around in a swirl of dust and gravel. She hit the highway with a squeal and drove through town looking straight ahead. Billy held the bottle in his lap and watched her and watched the road signs flick by. Betty could feel her juices seeping through the little white panties that went with her tennis skirt. She was breathing hard and fast, her breasts lifting in the silk shirt she had tied at her midriff. Billy moved closer and put a hand on her bare belly.
"Not yet," she whispered, "or I might turn Daddy's car over." Billy pulled his hand away until she'd bounced over a dirt road that wound down to the flyer. She braked quickly and turned the lights off. "Now," she breathed, her eyes flashing in the light from the radio.
"Betty, how did you know I took your panties?" her cousin asked.
"You look like the kind of guy that has a thing about women's underwear." She let him see the humor in her expression. But she was panting now, almost crazy for it to begin.
"Betty, I…"
"Let's forget about talking," she gasped, her hand sliding against his thigh. She touched the tumid shape under the worn denim and then began frantically to undo his fly. Billy groaned as he watched her in amazement. She dug his folded prick from the dampness of his shorts and ran her hot fingers excitedly along the shaft. She was trembling now, more than pleased with the thick, long shape of it. Billy was really hung all right! She wanted to shout for joy. She wanted to get that thing inside her before she had some kind of fit.
"Ohhhh, it's beautiful," she told him, bending close. Her lips were moist from constant licking and she wet them one more time to be sure. Then she let her wide mouth open to surround the pulsing, feverish head of Billy's cock. He touched the sides of her face as she let her bottom lip slide against the little lobes under the tip. She knew by experience that the spot was an especially sensitive one on all males. Rapid friction over those blood-packed swells could bring a man to orgasm in seconds. So she had to be careful if she wanted any action herself. She tongued each one and slavered the surface of his penis with hot saliva. She moved her mouth slowly, turning her head to lick him better, caressing his balls with her fingers. Billy was barely breathing now and Billy smiled, knowing she would have him hooked for a month or so. Until she sucked and fucked the poor guy dry.
"Betty, I didn't realize. I mean, I didn't know you would be like this."
"Do you like the way I am?" she asked.