Dolly was not judging these various orgasms as to desirability or thrill; she was simply defining them for their differences, rather than rating them And she saw that it was by far the best thing if a girl could experience all the different forms of coming, changing from one to the other, rather than getting stuck in the proverbial rut. In the Wintergreen house; that was possible.
Her lively imagination reached ahead.
She hoped that Claire Wintergreen would find it advisable to taste test her cunt at least once a week. She had been enlightened on that score and knew that the taste test was not valid in judging virginity. She knew she could brazen it out, maintaining her purity even as her pussy bubble over in Claire's hungry mouth. There was deception there, it was true, but more on Claire's part than on Dolly's.
Dolly felt a little guilty about letting a cunt starved woman suck her, off, but it had felt so wonderful that her guilt was a feeble barrier against her willingness. She also wondered if sexy, nubile young Amanda might not want a crack at her crack?
She wondered why those women liked to suck pussy. Dolly had always believed that was something that only pure lesbians did, and now, awakened to bi-sexuality, her curiosity was fired. She wondered what it would be like to mouth a cunt, and found the prospect exciting. If the situation arose-there would have to be some excuse, of course, but just in case… it was a fascinating thought!
She had a weekly blow job to give to the elder Wintergreen, and that was strictly in line with her duties, but ever so pleasant. Perhaps Jonathon, too, would need some head from time to time, since if his wife wouldn't fuck him she probably didn't blow him, either. So one way or the other, she had to get Jonathan's rocks off with a degree of regularity.
And if he were deceiving her? If his wife were not really denying him at all, but he had merely made that up as an excuse to have his way with Dolly? Well, the maid was not stupid and she saw that possibility. But she chose to ignore it. No matter what she knew or thought about the situation, as long as she pretended to believe his tale of need and frustration, her guilt could be handled.
On her day off she intended to let Duke fuck her; the days of her virginity were behind her.
So she planned her future as she took the present, in the form of Jonathon Wintergreen's massive prick, and half believed it was an act of kindness, rather than passion, despite the way her pussy melted.
The first two fucks had been on the leather couch. The first had been a standard man on top job, the second a modified missionary, in that he still mounted her from the top and face to face but kept his knees under him and lifted her crotch high to his thrust. The third time he took her standing, her back braced against the bookshelves while he dipped his knees and slithered his cock up her cunt with vertical strokes.
Now a fourth fuck seemed likely, for his big pecker was still rampant.
There was a polar bear rug before the fireplace, and Dolly was sitting on the rug, curled onto her flank, Her blouse and bra had somehow departed, in the course of their coupling, and she wore only a garter belt and stockings, and the little lace cap on her head. She was flushed with the pleasure of having been well fucked and quite ready to fuck some more.
Jonathon was stirring the fire with a poker, causing the embers to flare and cast pleasant warmth over the girl. He required a few moments of recovery time before he screwed her again, although his dick was still erect, and not wanting to let her know that he was flagging he pretended that the fire needed attention.
But Jonathon recovered fast. His balls seemed a never ending source of spunk, and his cock was adamant in its demands. Watching him now as he stirred the poker, in the fire, Dolly giggled. His dick looked like a poker, itself-a short poker, as pokers are measured, although plenty long on a peter meter. The knob was glowing bright red, either from internal heat or because it was jutting out close to the fireplace. It cast an oblong shadow up his torso as it blocked out the firelight. The firelight seemed to dance on his dick and his dick seemed to be toasting itself in the warmth.
Dolly giggled again, thinking of sticking marshmallows on the end of his prick and toasting them in the open fire, and licking the melted, gooey white substance off, too-licking and licking at the sticky white stuff until maybe some other sticky sauce might flow from his peckerhead and spice up the delicacy! She thought of shish kabobs and hot dogs with that white condiment flowing over them and her mouth watered. But it was an idle fancy; she wouldn't want to stick Jonathon's lovely cock in the fire and she was sure he wouldn't want her to.
But the idea inspired her.
Crawling across the white rug, the maid arched her neck up like a giraffe stretching for the delicate leaves at the top of a tree.
She slipped his dick into her mouth.
She began to lick and suck, her head going up and down. The warmth from the fire fell on her cheek, causing it to glow as if the big cockhead were illuminating her cheek like a light bulb in a lampshade. Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled up, turning up in a smile right around his cock as she realized that his father had been no novelty-that all dicks were tasty.
She fed it far back into her throat, gagging and gasping, and lovingly pulled her unpeeled lips back up the shaft. Jonathan humped his hips, fucking into her mouth.
His cock was so hot that it might indeed have been used to stir the embers of the fireplace, she thought, as her spit sizzled on the hot meat.
Jonathon stopped playing with the fire, now that he had her mouth to play with. He slid the poker back into the brass stand and slid his cock into her lips. Closing his fist around the hilt of his pecker, he began to move it in her mouth as if he were stirring embers on her tongue, creating air drafts in her cheeks, opening the vent of her throat. Falling in with this, the randy maid reached up and cupped his bloated balls, gently squeezing them, as if they were a bellows and she was blowing air up the thick spout, increasing the fire in her mouth.
He rested his other hand on her head-not forcing her, just tenderly caressing her curly head as he gazed down at her eagerly rising and falling face. Jonathon was infinitely pleased with the way the new maid was working out. She provided the best of both worlds-innocent but willing.
It suddenly occurred to Dolly that perhaps she was too willing; that she might have been too forward and brazen in taking his cock into her mouth without a request on his part. She pulled her lips from his knob with a little popping sound, like a cork from a bottle.
"Err… I guess your wife doesn't blow you, either, huh?"
Jonathon instantly saw that the girl was justifying herself and he said, "Never… she's too busy sucking pussy to ever take a dick in her mouth."
"Well, I guess I ought to then; huh?"
"I'd be grateful."
Dolly smiled. The justification complete, she fell to sucking once more. She seemed to have a natural talent for it-at least it seemed that way to her-for her mouth slid fluidly up and down without faltering; her teeth never got in the way; her tongue folded neat as could be against the underside of his cockhead. She gagged only slightly when the tip of his fat knob lodged in her gullet.
She was glad his wife didn't blow him.
She spoke with her mouth on his knob, saying the words one at a time and punctuating them with a bobbing of her head, so that the sentence was drawn out as if by a series of dashes between the words-the long dash of his dick.
"I… want… to… drink… your.. cum.."
She buried his cockhead in her throat between each word.
Her words excited Jonathon as much as her mouth did. He began to corkscrew his hips, fucking into her eager mouth. Her lips spread into a wide oval, containing his stalk like a taut collar; her cheeks pulled like velvet sleeves on his knob; her tongue worked like a flail along the throbbing vein; her hand squeezed his balls as if urging them to push the. spunk up his cock.