Her lips parted.
A second great spurt burst from his cock, jetting right into her open mouth.
Her tongue flicked out, lapping his scum up out of the air as it hosed her face.
She kept pumping steadily until, at last, he was drained and the flood ceased.
She looked around quickly, then ducked down and used her tongue to lap his cock clean, gathering up the slimy flood until his knob gleamed, clean as a bone. Then the horny little girl licked her lips and, bringing her cum-coated hand to her face, lapped his jism up from her fingers and palm.
"Yummy," she said.
Jonathon stared at her, overawed by the girl.
"I guess you'll be okay now… for a little while," she said, smiling at him.
"I… I think…"
"I think you better drive somewhere private, so we can have a fuck," said Shirley.
And, despite all his good intentions, Jonathon thought that was a good idea, too.
CHAPTER FOUR
"I… I don't know any parking spots," he said.
He almost said lover's lanes, but figured that was an outdated term and might cause her to think that he truly was a dirty old man of the first degree.
Shirley said, "Oh, I know plenty of them. I've been screwed in just about every private place in town, I guess. Sometimes I wish I wasn't so worried about my reputation, through. So I could go home with a guy, or go to a motel… I've never been fucked in a bed, you know?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Mostly I get it in cars… sometimes, if the guy has a blanket and the weather is warm, we screw on the ground. But I'd sure like to do it in bed sometime."
Jonathon looked thoughtful.
Shirley was playing with her pussy. She had gotten hot as could be while she jerked him off and now she had her hand cupped to her crotch, squeezing her cunt through the blue denim, getting herself nice and juicy and ready.
Jonathon knew that it would be awkward, at best, to ball her in the bucket seats.
He came to a decision.
He said, "My wife is out for the evening. If you want me to take you back to my house."
"Gee, I don't know. You'll probably lose respect for me if I let you do that…"
"Certainly not."
"Or you might feel guilty about fucking me in your wife's bed, you think?"
"It's her own damn fault for going out and leaving me on my own," he said.
He had convinced himself of that, blaming his wife for his impending infidelity with nice logic.
"Okay," Shirley said brightly.
Jonathon started the car and headed for borne. Shirley played with her pussy all the way there, not trying to bring herself off, but merely getting it all nice and hot and creamy so that she would be all set when they arrived.
Jonathon could hear the moist sounds that her cunt made as she fondled it.
He wondered if Jayne was enjoying herself at the office party.
Jayne was, in fact, getting felt up at the party.
She was not exactly enjoying it, at the moment, but she didn't know what to do about it, because the man who was feeling her up was her boss, Reginald Harris, and she didn't want to damage her future career by angering him. Reginald was a big, handsome man, and, had she not been happily married, Jayne would not at all have minded if he wanted to feel her up, actually. But since she was a wife, and a faithful one, she found herself in a difficult position.
Harris had her backed into a corner.
He was chatting away, making casual conversation, but his hands were running down her flanks and across her hips and moving around to squeeze her taut, juicy ass.
He had a hard-on that was sticking out in his tweed trousers.
He grinned. He told her she was the sexiest women he had ever know. She tried to act demure, pushing him away and fending off his groping hands as best she could, without risking making him angry.
She tried to bring her husband's name into the conversation as a damper.
Harris would allow her no opportunity.
"Let's go into my office, Jayne," he suggested.
She laughed, pretending that she did not believe that he was serious, trying to make a joke of it.
He cupped her tit.
To her mortification, she felt her big nipple stiffen and expand in his hand.
"You like that, huh?" he said. "If… if I wasn't married…"
"Forget about that," he said. "This is a party. You're supposed to fool around at an office party."
"I'm not that sort of girl."
He scowled.
"What sort are you, then?"
"Why, I… I…"
"The sort that gets fired for being bitchy?"
Oh dear, thought Jayne.
She certainly didn't want to lose her job.
Anyhow, she thought, what was the harm an letting him touch her tits a little bit? Or stroke her ass? It wasn't really wicked, just a little fooling around like that… it wasn't like being unfaithful or anything. As long as he didn't try to reach up under her skirt.
As long as Jonathon never found out.
She wondered it Jonathon was sulking, or if he was eagerly waiting for her to come home.
She let Harris squeeze her tits.
It felt very nice, too, she realized – surprising herself by admitting it.
She felt a little guilty – more because she was enjoying it than because she was allowing it.
But then she thought: Well, it will just make me horny so that when I get home I'll give Jonathon a lovely blow job and a super fuck.
She wasn't unable to rationalize, herself… that gift was not limited to Jonathon.
But she did wish that something or someone would distract her boss and take the heat off her.
Where was Anna?
She wished that Anna would come and seduce Harris.
But she had not seen that girl for some time. Anna was still in the closet.
After she had milked the janitor's prick dry and licked it clean, randy Anna stood up. Andy was slumped against the wall, exhausted, all his vitality spilled out through his pecker, along with his spunk.
But Anna was not a girl who was willing to do a man a favor without a return in kind.
"Kneel down," she said.
"Huh?"
"I want to do a little janitoring, myself."
"What do you mean?"
She grinned wickedly.
"I want to mop your face," she said.
Andy looked puzzled for a moment. His eyes darted about as if he was afraid she meant it literally, that she intended to take up one of those big industrial-sized maps and start whacking it in his face. But he couldn't for the life of him understand why that should be. His face was clean. He had been very careful to wash himself thoroughly before coming to the party, removing every single janitorial stain. He had even cleaned his fingernails. Why should she want to mop him? If any face needed mopping, it was hers, for her mouth and chin had just been flooded by an overflow of jism – although she had lapped it all up, in fact, so that she was glistening clean and not a drop had been wasted.
Anna saw his bewilderment.
Janitors, she thought, were pretty dumb.
They had lovely, big, tasty pricks, but they were not too bright when it came to figuring things out. She grinned with a sudden thought. Maybe she had sucked his brains out along with his cum – there had certainly been enough creamy fluid to make that possible.
Then she showed him her mop.
She bent one knee, took the hem of her skirt in both hands, and very slowly lifted it up her thighs. Andy stared, starting to grin with realization. She drew her skirt up above her hips and pushed her belly out.
She wore no panties.
Anna seldom wore panties.