Sarah

Chapter 33.

I licked the fingers I used to rub my crack with, as I heard the knock upon the door.

She was on-time! Sarah is never on-time? This must be important for her...

Chapter 34.

I wondered if I had any unsettled grievances outstanding with Sarah. I couldn't recall any; therefore I would not sabotage her effort to regain Tom tonight. I surely had no designs on him, or the expansive girth of his tool, but he did make me come when he fucked me in my ass, and that gave him--at least--a few "brownie-points", if you may excuse the expression, please.

I let them in. And kisses prevailed.

I Felt Tom's cock harden against my thigh, and Sarah's nipples stiffen pointedly into mine; as they inhaled the thick, camouflaged, candle-atmosphere of my space.

The burning scented wicks had done their duty, exquisitely! Funneling my pheromones into their bloodstream, via their lungs: The candle's scents, masking the "tap-on-the-door", of the---delivery-man: Footprints melting in the snow; treads blowing over, covered by the shifting sands of the desert...

Water flooding across the brow, cleansing one of Original Sin... The candles of time, dowsed in the river's flow... Come in, welcome--come in!

Chapter 35.

Superfluous chat filled the air. Gratuities abounded: And Tom hardly took his eyes off my ass!

I winked at Sarah, but she thought I had something in my eye, and rushed over to attend.

I gave her one of my "looks" and she understood that she had misunderstood something.

After some awkward moments, I decided to take the lead, and pretended to pick something up from behind the television.

Of course, I had my mini skirt on and no panties, and I opened my legs very wide before I slowly bent over.

Tom groaned, on his seat, and went absolutely wild!

He threw his glass of beer across the room, and tore off his clothes, howling. I looked back over my shoulder, and his cock was sticking out of him something terrible!

I motioned to Sarah, with my eyes to get on it with her sucking, but she was ogling my pussy and ass-hole, as much as Tom was!

The fucking bitch, still didn't know if she wanted pole, or banana-split!

Tom sprang to his feet, and struggled out of the remains of his hang-ups, by tearing his clothes off, and yodeling, some sort of--ancient battle cry?

Seriously, it was beyond me? I don't know any Vikings, and Sarah, can't even spell the name... So this gig was all Tom's! ...Apparently?

As he was--incarnating--into the Ether, I remembered the plot, and rushed over to suck his enormous---thing!

I literally, couldn't get it into my mouth. I tried and tried, but of course Sarah could. She's such a show off!

But once she got it in past her teeth, she couldn't get it out again, and Tom couldn't go limp because he was turned on so much.

I was kneeling down, fingering my ass-hole, trying to get Tom to come and release Sarah from her jaw breaking experience.

In the end, it took 20 minutes with Sarah sucking madly, and me sucking his balls, and fingering his ass-hole, until he shot, what must have been 5 or 6 heavy loads of cummm into her head, with so much force that a torrent of sperm came shooting out of her nostrils.

Tom deflated: His tube fell from Sarah's lock-jawed mouth, and we all laughed so much: Two streams of thick cream running from her nose, down over her lips and chin, and as she guffawed; blowing bubbles from her nose, that bent us over even more, until we were all rolling around on the floor, grabbing our aching tummies, begging to stop.

Chapter 36.

Finally the laughter subsided.

Sarah and I repaired to the ladies-room, for clean-up; she washing out her nose, while I scrubbed my finger from Tom's ass-hole.

I sniffed it before the scrub.

He didn't smell at all too bad. I thought that he must eat a lot of fruit, and nuts, because there was a fragment lodged under my nail.

I picked up a hint of mango and strawberry, with an after whiff of hops. I deduced that Tom must be a beer drinker, and the nut was, possibly, cashew. (I wheedled it out from under my nail, and fed it to Sarah in the bathroom, and asked her to identify it, when she was off guard lathering her face, and squealing due to soap in her eye. I didn't tell her where I got it, of course. I figured Tom must be a vegetarian then, who liked beer, a sort of, easy going vegetarian, because we all know what an uptight pain in the ass, those strict ones are!

Sarah couldn't positively identify the type of nut, but before she swallowed, I caught her soapy head between my hands and kissed her deep. Rummaging around inside her mouth deep and hard, flicking my tongue wildly everywhere inside her head, until my taste-buds got the answer from her throat. Yes! Indeed, it was cashew!

Sarah hugged me, and was shy. She loved being kissed like that, for what she thought, was no apparent reason. I knew different.

Chapter 37.

Sarah declared, once she had rinsed the soap out of her stinging eye, that she was feeling rather puckish now; since I had piqued her appetite with the nut.

I said with a hint of envy, "It's a wonder [you're] hungry, after swallowing all! ...the available cumm for the night!"

Sarah looked at me in utter feigned puzzlement, and retorted, "Well, miss know it all, just what else could I do? I couldn't get the thing out of my mouth!"

It was a good answer, but...

I asked, incidentally, "How long have you guys been going together now?"

"6 weeks", Sarah shot back triumphantly.

Sarah has such a mind-boggling, insatiable, sex drive, that her boyfriends usually only last around two to three weeks tops! By then, she has fucked and sucked every last droplet of energy, let alone cummm out of their bodies. She is such a greedy little bastard!

Chapter 38.

Generally, I would meet her, on weekends, for cocktails in the afternoon, and I would ask her,

"Sarah, what on earth is that white crusty stuff in the corners of your mouth darling?"

She would roll her tongue around her lips and say, in a matter-of-fact way,

"Oh, that! That's just, Bill."

...or John, or whoever her partner-in-grime at the time was.

I would look at her with knitted-brow, and say,

"Sarah, you mean to tell me that white encrusted goo in the corners of your mouth is Bill's dried cummm...?"

Sarah would shrug her shoulders, and say in such an innocent tone of voice,

"...I suppose..."

I would be furious!

"Sarah, you just kissed me--Hello...!"

"...And...?" She would ask in a slightly elevated tone.

"Sarah! You just gave Bill a blow job, and you didn't even clean your teeth! Then you come here to meet me, and you kiss me, with your boyfriend's come still on your lips! ...And besides, why don't you just swallow it all? I mean, what's with the dried cummm in the corners of your mouth? I just don't get it Sarah...?"

"Look..." she said, in that deep, low voice of hers, that she only uses when she gets really pissed-off.

"I was running late, alright--and I really wanted to see you--and I was hungry--and Bill was laying there on the couch watching the game with his buddies...

I didn't want him to run out-on-the-town with them, and leave me behind, when I was out with you; so I just knelt down and sucked him dry, right there on the couch. His buddies thought it was a riot, but his balls must have been bulging, because when he let it loose into my head, I couldn't swallow fast enough, and some of it squirted out of the sides of my mouth. I knew he was finished for the night, and that wild horses couldn't drag him out now, let alone those lazy, drunken, bastards he calls friends. I was late, and I didn't have time to freshen-up in the bathroom even, and so, I ran out to see you. I love you so, so much: And on the way, I suppose, Bill's cummm dried on my lips...and well, that's it..."

She looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I saw a couple of tears roll out of her eyes, racing one-another, down her rosy, blushing cheeks.

In the silence of the moment, I wondered which one would reach her chin first...?

Sarah was such a little bitch! OoooooW!

And such a fucking little actress, Huh!

I relented, and held out my hand to raise her cute, sweet, chin: I smiled, and gave her some inconsequential advice, that I would never remember myself, about swallowing cummm; and being in public places. It was all just [filler] shit, just to get over an awkward moment.

I awkwardly blurted out that I forgave her, and bode her give me a kiss, which she did willingly, rising out of her wicker chair, almost knocking over the flower vase at the table's center, which I instinctively grasped without commotion, and I tasted Bill's cumm on her tongue and lips: I had tasted the likes of it before from her.

"She'll never change." I lamented.

Chapter 39.

I licked my lips after the long kiss and--as Sarah plunked down into her seat again; her crocodile-tears evaporated into the nothingness that existed between us.

For this is southern California, and out here, from under our Caribbean hut café cubicle, with real fake palm thatching, and an ocean-side view, in crazy wall-painted Venice beach, where only feet away, across a smooth roller-skate path, which meanders some twenty miles along the perfect Pacific's shore rim, bakes the most beautiful, hypodermic-needle infested golden sands, known to man, and the azure of the ocean calls unto you, as skaters zoom by, leaving invisible trails of coconut suntan-lotion scent behind them, like the debris of a wandering comet evaporating its way to utter extinction; valiantly surfing the cosmos; pulled into the roasting corona, by the very attraction, of its own deadly sun. Everything out here isn't quite what it seems to be, including Sarah's pitiful Hollywood tears.

Chapter 40.

I ran my tongue into the corners of my mouth.

There, I tasted the very essence of Mary Jane whom I had licked so thoroughly before leaving to meet Sarah this day; knowing that once satiated, I would find her still to be there when I got home, sleeping-off the endorphin-rush of an unexpected orgasm that I forced upon her out-of-the-blue: Mary Jane, such a sweet tasting cowgirl: A prize of the Midwest. I would lick her saddle 'til the cows came home!

Chapter 41.

"6 weeks...?" I said, incredulously.

"And today, I suppose, is the first day he got a blow-job from you, hence the bulging balls, hence the over-flow, hence the dried cummm. Do you really expect me to believe all that...Hardly?" I added, sardonically.

"...No, I gave him a blow-job the first time I met him in the club, in the back hallway, behind the speakers in the side dance room. You know, the same place I lick your soaking, wet, pussy until you scream with delight, as you rub your red, hot, open cunt into my face and ruing my hair and make-up as you devour your almighty orgasm... You know, when you drag me there, after getting turned on dancing with those sluts of yours--and beg me to eat you, OoOoOoOoW! Sometimes, Veronica, I swear...OoOoOoOoW! I swear, sometimes you don't, ...don't..."

"...Don't what...Sarah? Don't—Respect you --?"

"I...I...I, was going to say, sometimes you make me feel like you...you...you, don't---love me."

I finished licking Mary Jane out of the corners of my mouth, and wondered if I was just the same as little sexy Sarah...? At any rate the little whore had me painted-in-a-corner, with her martyrdom, and acting! There was only one way out of this predicament...

This time I smiled and bent over the table to kiss her, knocking the vase of flowers over. Sarah couldn't care a hoot about the etiquette, or the deco. She would never think of saving the vase. The waiter appeared out of thin-air, and set the table again with a look of reproach about him. The cheeky bastard! He can kiss my ass for a tip now.

I thanked him cordially, with a winning smile plastered across the bill-board of my face, as insurance against him spitting on our food in the kitchen; the prick!

He waddled off, like Liberace on a treadmill: The cheeks of his little buns, dancing wildly, in his tight black polyester pants like two school boys fighting in a sleeping-bag.

I was taking notes.

I thought, "I need to walk like that, more often, especially on shopping trips to Nordstrom's! Just think of all the pubic hair agony I could engender with my ass buns dancing the Rumba to the orchestrated beat of my panty-less "bumba"!"

Chapter 42.

Sarah cheered up immediately following the kiss, and said,

"You've been with Mary Jane, haven't you? I can taste her on your lips, and smell her on your breath."

I blushed, and fobbed her off of the scent, by pointing out to sea, at the blimp hovering-about, loitering in the sky like a giant floating turd, that refuses to go away, no matter how many time you flush.

Sarah took the bait, and dropped the subject, and I licked my lips again to consume any remaining evidence. That crafty little whore: Sarah has played the dummy so many times with me, that she almost has me believing that she actually is dumb...! OooooW! The little vixen! Fucking clever little Bitch...!

I changed the subject three more times in quick succession, utterly confusing poor ole Sarah, and assumed my rightful place as the--responsible one--again, by ordaining, "Shall we order, now."

I picked my menu up reading it intently, until I realized it was upside down. Sarah giggled, and I hit her on the head with it, and we laughed, and laughed. Oh, I just love Sarah, I always have, and I always will--I guess?

Chapter 43.

I ordered the soup de jour, and a small salad, with crab cakes on the side, and for the entrée, I went with a half bucket of steamed clams. Everyone loves the taste of my pussy a day or two after I eat crab and clams--I don't like either. I only eat them for effect, and what the "effect" will get me...down-stream. I can't keep Sarah or Mary Jane off my pussy for days following. So, I suffer the eating of them today, and revel in the licking that I know will follow t'morrow.

Sarah ordered the house, plus the kitchen sink...the roof, and the foundations. That little bitch! It was my turn to pay, but when it's hers, she magically gets an upset tummy, and orders from the children's menu, the crafty little cow!

I asked, "How is your fillet mignon? It goes well with that Mane Lobster I think, don't you? I see your tummy has settled down from last time we had lunch..."

The fucking little bitch!

"Bon appetite baby... I love you, enjoy."

Cunt!

Sarah smiled chewing wildly.

I thought, " I wonder how long will Bill last?"

To look at Sarah, a 120lb, 5 foot, 5 inch southern Cal, blond beauty, with a set of jugs that could turn the head of the ancient statues of the Getty itself: Why, you would think butter wouldn't melt in her mouth! And her ass...well, her ass, is...perfection itself! I remember when she was going through her anal phase with me, and she insisted that I flick her wet pussy-hole, and stiff little clitoris, whilst she straddled over me, facing my feet, and when she was about to cummm, she would reach down and grab my ankles, and raise herself up onto the balls of her feet, squatting, with her legs as wide apart as she could manage, and at the point of orgasm, she would open her bung-hole, and drop the most enormous log out of that small little bung-hole of hers: Letting it slither freely from her, landing with a dead thud, between the cleavage of my breasts. Then she would run and hid in the closet for half an hour, until I had cleaned everything up, and pretended that nothing at all had taken place. We would cuddle on the couch for the rest of the night, watching movies, and usually, finish up with me pushing her face between my legs, and cuming over her sweet lovely lips, and squirting into her open, wet, mouth, while I watched the end of the movie, alone.

Chapter 44.

I was always amazed at how wide her ass-hole could open, when she wanted it to! And she always smelled like spicy, coffee, and burnt toast. It wasn't at all unpleasant, or what I expected it to be. After a while it all seemed quite natural; but, I soon became bored though, waiting for her to drop her load, and the grunting, and squealing got on my nerves in the end. I found out that she was saving it up for me.

I was called out of town, unexpectedly; a business trip. Well, she didn't take a shit for 6 days, and upon my return--OMG! It took over an hour to get that thing out of her ass! It was over 18 inches long! And 4 inches in diameter at its widest girth!

That was it! I put a stop to the shitting, and her anal period, (revisited), abruptly came to an end. I kept the last gigantic turd though, as a souvenir: I have it in an old hat box, curled up like a sleeping cobra coiled in its putrid nest.

Chapter 45.

Apparently Sarah found this whole affair--the affair of shitting--somewhat therapeutic, and begged me to try it?

I...I...I felt no--pull--for this, but she insisted, and so I relented and agreed to---give it a go?

We went to her place, and she got me so hot, and bothered, that I didn't know what was really happening, and when I was so, so, ready to cummm, she ordered me to turn my back to her face, and squat over her, with my legs wide--wide open--holding onto her ankles. My ass-hole, and my pussy hovering above her upper torso, and, according to her, this is where the therapeutic "healing" came in.

I was supposed to give myself up into the world, so absolutely, that my ass-hole, and urethra would take-on a mind of their own, and open, unashamedly; pissing, and dropping the entire content of my bung-hole upon a valued and loved one? I.e., Thus experiencing, unconditional--love...?

Hell, I thought I'll give it a try, if only to shut her up!

That night she got me hot, but I mean, really hot! With her licking and sucking, and flicking...OoOoOoOoW! That little bitch, she knew, exactly what she was about! She was intent upon, setting me--free--I guess.

I was on my back, and Sarah was rummaging around between my legs with her head, I was about to come, when she stopped.

She asked me, "Are you ready to come?"

I answered, "Yes, you little bitch, now get your fucking head back down there, Now! OMG. You little cunt!"

Sarah said, "Oh, Veronica, I envy you so, so, much right now, I'm going to--"set you free"--of all of your inhibitions---resolved."

"Sarah, baby, can't we do this next time love?" I pleaded in my best martyr's voice.

OooooooW! She was stuck on it...!

"O-fucking-K, then! Let me be, fucking, re-fucking released then, what the fuck do I need to do now?" I pleaded in ignorance.

"Awwwwww, baby Veronica, trust in me, and you will see. Your soul will be set free, and your spirit will soar with the eagles."

I thought, "Whatever..."

Chapter 46.

Sarah was like an excited kid at the playground, and dove onto the bed, ordering me to squat over her balancing on the balls of my feet, and to hold onto her ankles tight.

I did as she bid me, my balance being regulated, on the swaying sea of her mattress, only by the minute adjustments made through my toes, as if playing a symphony across the ivory of a piano, but this time using pressure, instead of sounds. I stabilized myself, my ass-hole pointing up and open; my vulva dripping wet; all of this angled directly into the face of my closest lover.

Chapter 47.

Sarah whispered, as she brought her little hand up under me to flick my exposed clitoris, hanging down out of my vulva.

"Veronica, my love, are you ready to be set free...?"

I was ready, but I wondered was she?

Chapter 48.

Sarah rubbed my clitoris, with a rhythm of semi-quavers, interspersed a with measure of half notes, and stops, that ranged into complicated jazz arrangements, then back into lullabies, without as much as missing a beat...OooooW! Baby...This is why I love this girl...! Why, she has--rhythm--baby--Yeah! Rhythm!