"I didn't get the whole thing figured out all the way that fast; but I knew that those were areas of human study that related to each other, even if the professors didn't admit it much. And even if the professors call them sciences, they aren't, really – at least, not yet, and not in the way most people think of 'science'." I told her.
Denise asked me "What do you mean, they aren't sciences?"
"I said they aren't sciences in the way most people think of science; and they're not. Physics, chemistry, biology… subjects like that are sciences: you mix sodium and chlorine together, and you get table salt, whether you do it in China or Chernobyl. If you know the mass and speed, you can use the science of physics to predict where something is going to go. If you start breeding white cats with black cats, you're going to have a pretty good idea of how many of what colors you're going to end up with using the science of biology. Sociology and psychology haven't progressed to that point yet. If you work out the reactions people have to overcrowding – or even what they consider overcrowding to be – it matters whether you do your work in Bombay or Boston. You can't use sociology or psychology to make any kind of detailed predictions about people and how they'll respond to something. If little green men turned up in their flying saucer, neither one of those subjects could tell you what percentage of the population would go stark, raving bugshit, what percentage would see it as a good thing for the human race, how many would want to wait and see, and what percentages would see it as a hoax or threat. They can work it out after the fact, and maybe even give you some rough percentages beforehand, but not with anything even close to the accuracy you can get from the 'hard' sciences. I'm not saying they're bad, or no good; the reason they can't do anything like that is simply because the human race hasn't yet become a single culture or society – those two fields are still in their relative infancy, and they don't have the luxury of dealing with people as an integrated whole, the way biology and chemistry do. I mean, ATP in a Chinese is the same as ATP in a Welshman as in a Nigerian. Sulfur is sulfur, whether it's in Cape Town or Chicago. But the things that motivate somebody in Morocco aren't necessarily going to motivate someone in Madrid or Moscow – at least not in the details. Sociology and psychology won't be real sciences until they're capable of making fairly accurate predictions of human responses and actions – and they won't be able to do that until the human race itself is a lot more uniform and predictable. Edith, you have a job precisely because sociology and psychology can't make those kinds of predictions. You told me yourself that a lot of what you do is having a 'feeling' about how different people and market segments are going to react to something; if sociology and psychology were sciences, you would have a formula of some kind – you could describe it with numbers, instead of words."
Both of them were nodding their heads in understanding by the time I finished; but it was Denise that took the empty bottles from Edith and me before saying "That's all interesting as hell, but you aren't laying naked in bed with us to be giving us philosophy lectures. I want to fuck!" – making me and Edith both laugh.
"Okay, class dismissed, then. But it doesn't look like I'm in any kind of shape to help tend to your wants, Denise."
Edith eased herself out of my arms to say "I volunteer to correct that problem. Jim, why don't you get her warmed up while I'm getting you ready?", with a mischievous smile.
Pretending a reluctance I really didn't feel, I said "Well, I suppose I could do that…", surprising Denise – until she realized I was teasing her, and gave me a play-dirty look.
I was grinning when I asked her "And what would you like me to do to help get you 'warmed up'?"
I could see the anticipation in her eyes when she answered "She said you're almost as good as a woman at eating pussy – I think I'd like to find out for myself."
I couldn't help smiling when I told her "I can do that!"
With the 'who' and 'what' settled, it was only a few seconds for us to work out the 'how': I stretched out on my back and Edith got herself situated so she could be comfortable while she used her hand and mouth on me. Denise moved to straddle my head, facing away from her friend – "So you can reach my boobs, too", she explained.
It hadn't been all that long since I'd emptied myself into Edith, so I knew that I had some time before I'd be able to respond to Denise's desires in the way she wanted. Until then, I was determined to see just how far past 'warmed up' I could get her.
Since Denise had made a point of telling me that she was faced the way she was so that I could reach her breasts, the first thing I did was reach up and put my hands on them. As I started gently squeezing them, and running my thumbs across her nipples, I was taking the opportunity to have my first clear look at the area between her thighs. She looks pretty much the same as she did when Edith was eating her – but now I can see that her labia are a little longer and thicker than they were before, and that she's visibly wetter than I thought a woman could get.
I lift my head up, and stick my tongue out to run it along her slit, from bottom to top; the taste of her is kind of sweet and sour at the same time – but not in any kind of unpleasant way at all. There's plenty of her juices for me to sample, too: they're about the consistency of a real light cooking oil. It takes me maybe a zillionth of a second to decide that I like it, and I start doing it some more. When I do, I feel Edith take my whole cock in her mouth and start doing some really nice things to it with her lips and tongue.
So there I am, my hands full of a pair of really nice tits, a warm mouth wrapped around my cock, and a mouthful of delicious pussy. I'm thinking that if I've gotta die some day, that's the time and place to do it, so I go out happy.
That doesn't happen, so I get to spend the next little while enjoying the hell out of life: Denise has her hands on mine, guiding them around to make sure I don't miss out on anything. Edith is slowly getting me hard again – and apparently having fun doing so. Above me, Denise is producing her juices almost as fast as I can lick them up. That leaves me time to branch out and do a few other things, like kind of 'chew' on her labia with my lips, and see what kind of stuff I can do to and with her clit that she likes; as it turns out, she likes pretty much everything. I even try to see if I can get my tongue inside her, but that just isn't happening; I'd have more luck trying to push a watermelon through a keyhole. She does seem to appreciate the attempt, though – by the time I give up, she's leaking pussy juice like a water faucet that didn't get closed all the way.
By that point, I'm mostly hard again, and I figure it's time to make a serious attempt to get Denise off.
So between periods of sucking up her oils so I don't drown, I go to work on her clit: circling it with my tongue, fluttering my tongue across it, putting my mouth over it and sucking on it gently, and anything else I can think of. Having to sidetrack so often to deal with how wet she is kind of slows things down, but it has it's own benefits, so I'm not going to complain. Finally, I get her to the point where I can tel she's just short of slipping over into an orgasm. I break off from milking her clit with my lips to quickly lap up the oils that she's produced since last time; then it's back to finish her off. It doesn't take me another thirty seconds before her legs try to snap together and she pushes herself down onto my face as she almost screams with the start of her climax.