Frothed down her back.
Sadie Mae's pizzle dashed down between Mercedes's boobs. Perking up the nippletips and filling the navel.
Mercedes bucked her bellybutton up from the table. Sadie Mae's drizzle sniped through the opening between Mercedes's curitlips.
Writhing sideways once again. Mercedes's tan-dying backbone rubbed inside Sadie Mae's groin, Piss smarted up her asshole.
"Oh."
Sadie Mae chittered like a chimpanzee as she frittered with her clitoris.
Dampness of her forest.
Voracious activity of Mercedes's rnaw.
"Aaaaawn."
Sadie Mae sniffed the headiness of the years of spilled liquor, spent cockcome and girljizz, oxidized fuckjuices that soaked through the furniture of the saloon.
She pissed and swooned.
The brew kept flowing from her barrel.
Mercedes had Sadie Mae flat out on the table now. Tugging her jugs.
Running her long sharp and painted fingernails down the outside of Sadie Mae's boobcage. Engaging Sadie Mae orally and digitally.
"Eigh!"
Mercedes gnawed far and wide. From Sadie Mae's sweat-curled coif to her underside.
Hammered her choking maw into Sadie Mae's blowhole and ate her for an instant before poking her tongue in.
Piss blistered Mercedes's face as she chomped beneath Sadie Mae's buttocks.
"Yes."
Mercedes yanked her clenched yawp up from Sadie Mae's twat.
"Ow!"
Tufts of cuntfur stuck to the outsides of Mercedes's mouth.
She looked about.
"Hey, guys," Mercedes mouthed. "Somebody please pick my teeth."
Hungry fingers reached out.
In the escalating delirium of Sadie Mae's serially spiraling orgasm, she peered into the chasm of sexuality.
Took in at once her destiny.
Let her mind go free.
"Let's see," Sadie Mae screeched.
Bubba yanked his long ranger with a. strange look in his eyes. Randy cried out loud as he shot another beer down.
"Do it," Sadie Mae choked.
Randy shot two fingers to his nuts to loosen them up.
Readied his weenie.
Took aim at the two girls shivering within their own liquid giggles.
"Suck me, Mercedes. Please. I never knew this was tike this-"
Sadie Mae twisted her own clitoris with her fist Grimaced.
Placed her paws on either side of Mercedes's head. Bent into her.
"Yeow!"
Mercedes sank her fangs into pissing pussy.
Sucked slit.
Kissed pusslips.
Quaffed piss.
Without a blink.
Mercedes cackled and began to glow from below with a liquid halo of her own brew. Pissing sucksisters cavorted in gilt-tinged mist.
Randy added his own broth to the stew. He strewed strips of liquid silver in high-flying arcs from his pricktip.
Pizzle scampered over the backs of the two young ladies who drank mixed liquid from each other's cracks. Bubba backed off.
Jacked off.
Blew a wad of cockcome through the air to land upon the tightly entwined tresses of the girls who now bussed each other's breasts.
"Hold onto me, Mercedes. Please don't let them take me away."
"Don't worry, dollbaby. They'll take you right here. On top of me."
Little Ramona worked the final squinks of jizz from Yancey's fizzling hard-on. She wiped the withered pecker between her legs.
Lapped a few thick patched of cockcorne from her fingers and picked up Yancey's derringer. Twisted her hiney from where she had been sitting on his belly-her cunt smooching his chest.
Asshole oinking up in rut action toward Yancey's mouth as she went down on his hawg. Loading her jowls with pork.
"If what you say, Ramona, about the way they work the system here-if that's how they do it, I think I know a way to get Uncle Roy out of the jug before he goes stir crazy."
Ramona belched lazily.
"A little late for that kind of talk tonight, Yancey. But I guess I can rous up the rest of the clan for some serious discussion."
Ramona rustled her clothing from the floor. Danced the derringer between her boobs.
"Cute, Ramona. Now you just give me that pretty little popgun."
"Give me my Colt.45."
"If I'm alive after you get to fooling around with my Remington."
"We call it quits?"
"How about it?"
"Okay. Exchange weaponry?"
"When we get dressed."
Lafayette had ignored the obvious gunshots from the next room as he had fucked cousin Sallie Anne in the cabana shower.
Sallie Anne had not even lurched at the sounds of the bullets being fired. Lafayette thought that things were so wired around here it must happen all the time-gunslinging, fucking.
Sallie Anne fucked Lafayette's cock with her ass. He bucked off a load of jizzom.
Swinging his coming penis from Sallie Anne's keister, Lafayette turned face to face with Little Ramona and the deputy.
"Randy and I have something to say."
"Can't it wait until after we finish taking a fucking shower?" Sallie Anne slavered.
"Where's Sadie Mae?" Sallie Anne said as she sashayed into the saloon at Uncle Roy's Roadhouse. "Here's her blouse-"
Ramona's voice hacked:
"Ah na. Na na-na na-na. Na na-na na-na. Na na-na. Na na-na. Na na-na na-na."
"Fuckingchrist," Sallie Anne sprayed. "My very own sister. Sadie Mae-what are you doing?"
Sadie Mae spoke through pliant maw:
"Drooling."
"Stop your fooling around now," Ramona jabbered. "You boys-Randy and Buhba-get back to the bungalow cabins-"
"There's whores down there for yuh-" Sallie Anne chauvered.
Ramona grabbed Sadie Mae by a wet hank of hair. Pulled her with a pop from on top of Mercedes. "Maybe Mercedes should be in on this too."
Mercedes woozed in postorgasmic haze.
"Who?"
Chapter 5
Cuntlips choking ladyjuice in sluices beneath her business suit, Cassandra Louise Lafayette LaRue Jones Massey honed her hard clit with only the movements of her thighs as she was walking. High heels clicking down the halls.
Echoing off the colorless, clean, uninviting tilework inset with metal-louvered willdowshades. She turned into a room barren of everything except a lamp, couple hardbacked chairs and a card table.
Encamped there.
Feeling the wetness from her crack exude through her underpants and perhaps cake onto the tops of her hose.
Chewed a bit on a lit cigarette.
Wrinkling her nose at the marks made on the filter by her lipstick.
She knew her nipples were thick.
And that if you looked straight there on her chest you could see her jugs through the prim blouse she wore.
Dig at her dugs with your peepers through the scoring of lace stitchery on Cassie Lou's sneeringly cut brassiere.
Cassie Lou allowed the lit faggot to dangle from her yip. Crossed her legs at the ankles.
Began to think about having a drink.
It was a mark of the respect this prisoner had among the penal system that when he was escorted to his meeting with an official from the pardon and parole board he was not led in shackles-no manacles, no guns pointed.
Uncle Roy was just followed down the hall by a pack of uniformed guards.
"Pardon me, men," Uncle Roy said to them with a wave. "I gotta duck in here for a bit."
"You want luncheon?" one of the guardsmen said, idly fondling a truncheon.
"Maybe later," Uncle Roy jawed. "Remember, I'm on a diet."
"Turkey okay?"
"Say-sounds right by me. But you can skip the gravy and add some fresh greens."