J Long - The town sluts

Eula tried smiling. "Now, surely, Mr. Mosher, you don't think I'd fall for an old line like that… do you? Huh?"

Kirby nodded, ready to spring to his right if she dodged to her left. "Fucking-A right! I can tell you're one of them artsy-fartsy bitches who gets turned on by words like fuck and suck, cock and cunt."

Eula retried smiling. God, how did he know? How could a crude lazy asshole like Kirby Mosher know that words like fuck and suck, cock and cunt, made pudding out of her pussy, made her tits scream to be unwrapped from the Saran.

"Oh, but you're absolutely wrong," Eula said fearfully, ready to jump to her right when Kirby lunged at her. She knew he was going to lunge because he looked like a water buffalo in heat, like a panther with his balls on fire, like a great white shark that ate pussies for dessert.

"Bulishit, Eula! I can tell you like fucking and sucking. Shit! Look at your tits! I betcha your tits are all hard and ready to be sucked. I betcha your pussy's just like pudding right now – ready for me to eat. I'll even betcha your asshole's tingling right now."

Eula cringed with desirous fear, or fearful desire. How did he know! How did that lazy asshole know that her tits were hard and hot, eager to be sucked?

How did he know that her pussy had made a gelatin-like mess of her sea-green bikini panties?

How did he know her asshole was tingling?

No, that wasn't true. Her asshole wasn't tingling. Her spine was tingling – an itchy twitchy feeling that ran along every vertebra, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and also the few hairs on her asshole.

Oh God! She wanted to be fucked so bad, yet she didn't want to be fucked so bad.

Shit, why did she have to be a woman and have to hold back all that wanting for cock? Why couldn't she be like other normal women who spread their housewife cunts for their husbands, or their boyfriends, or for the Roto Rooter man?

"Come on, Eula," Kirby snarled as his hands were within reach of her titties. "What's it gonna be? You want me to eat your cunt and stick my tongue into your asshole before I fuck your brains through your mouth? Or you want me to suck your titties while my cock's fucking your pussy?"

Eula cowered against the wallpaper porpoises.

What should she do?

What could she do?

Oh God! Decisions, choices, alternatives and options!

She decided to gasp. Because Kirby's hands were on her hot taut titties and he was feeling all those delightful things that he said her titties would become – suckable, edible, chewable.

"Oooooooohhhhhhh!" she gasped.

"See, you fucking smart-ass bitch! I knew you'd love it when I got my hands on your tits. Betcha can't wait for me to get my hand underneath this artsy-fartsy dress and fuck around with your cunt?"

Oh God! What to do: There was still time to run over to the whale-patterned wall and make her escape.

But… oh God, the feelings in her tits were driving her crazy. His hands were making her tits feel like Pillsbury buns warm and hot and edible.

Then his hand sneaked under her dress.

And Eula spread her thighs, stretched her sea-green panties so that he could feel how much cunt-juice was on the crotch.

"You fucking bitch! Jesus Christ! Your cunt's burning up!Feel that! Jesus Christ! Your clint feels like a fucking swamp!"

"Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh!" she gasped.

Kirby pinned Eula in the corner, his hands on her hips beneath the crinkly crepe dress, pulling down her sea-green bikini panties.

He held the frilly lace like a triangular gauze curtain between their faces. "Look at that shit on the crotch! Look at that! Christ! It's nearly black around the crotch while the other parts still look piss green!"

Eula nearly died.

Nobody had ever described her panties like that! Nobody had ever described how she felt so crudely. She couldn't believe the wonderful sensations that were running up and down her spine, making her asshole tingle as much as her neck.

The sea-green panties drifted to the ocean-blue rug.

The crinkly crepe dress was lifted higher and higher.

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

And Kirby took a good look at her pussy.

"Motherfucker! Look at all that fucking juice coming out of your cunt!"

Eula didn't want to see how much juice was dripping out of her pussy. She didn't have to look because she could feel those rivers of pussy-juice coursing down her thighs to puddle like pudding on the sea-green panties that lay on the ocean-blue rug.

"Oooooohhhhhh! Godddddddd!"

"God ain't going to help you now, you bitch!" Kirby smirked as he lifted the red crepe dress.

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

"Motherfucker! Look at your tits!Look at how fucking hard your nipples are!"

Eula shook her head. She didn't want to see how hot and hard her nipples were. She didn't want to see because she couldn't, even if she had wanted to see. Kirby had lifted the dress so that it had draped over her head and her ears were filled with the crinkle, crinkle, crinkle sound of her red crepe dress.

"Ooooooohhhhhhh, God!"

Kirby surveyed his handiwork. There was a lot to survey. Like the mountains that were her tits. And the slight chuckhole that was her navel. And the furry forest of her pubic hair. And the valley of her cunt.

He licked her hot nipple.

"Aaaiiieeee!" Eula said with muffled voice beneath the crinkly dress that was draped over her head.

He licked the other nipple.

"Aaaaaaiihiieeeeee!"

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

Now Eula didn't have to try to hide because she was hidden. Her eager expression, her lips that drooled with the hunger of wanting to suck cock, her eyes that had wanted to see how big his prick was before she sucked it – all were hidden by the crinkly crepe dress as it tented like a parachute over her head.

Now she would not be betrayed. Now she could be fucked and sucked without showing him how much she wanted to be fucked and sucked. Typical woman.

"Oooooooohhhhhhh!"

Kirby smacked his lips against her tits. His mouth had made a droolly mess of all that tit-flesh. His little love bites and snakey tongue were doing amazing things to her tits.

And Eula could feel those amazing feelings in her tits. Her nipples were as hard as granite. And her tits felt more like Grand Tetons than something that she tucked into her double-C Maidenform before she went to work every day.

"Oooooooohhhhhhh!"

Kirby's tongue was moving down her tits. Heading south, hacking wet snail halls on the path to her pussy. Yeah, she had seven ribs – easy to count as he tongue each bony ridge. And yes, she had one navel that was relatively clean of lint and dust. And yes, she had numerous cunt hairs that would have taken hours to count.

And yes, she had one pussy. A hot pussy. A pussy that pissed lots of cod liver oil 'cause she liked to eat fish.

"Aaaaaiiiiieeeee! Ooooohhhhh, Goddddddddddddd!"

He tongued her cit.

"Aaaaaiiiiieeeee! Ooooohhhhh, Goddddddddddddd!"

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

He tongued in the hole that his cock was going to be going into.

"Aaaeeeeaaaaaggggghhhhh! Aaaiiieee!"

Now Kirby had a hard time holding onto the firm cheeks of her ass.

Eula was shoving her cunt at his tongue, bouncing her ass against the whales to the left and the porpoises to the right.

Kirby licked up to the cut, then down to the asshole, gathering fishy juices at the top and letting them drip off his tongue at the bottom.

"Ohhhhjih! Shheeeeeiiiiitt! My clit!My cunt! My asshole! Aaaaaiiiieeeee!"

Then he repeated the tongue-wash – clit to cunt, to asshole.

"Aaaaiiieeeee! My clit! My cunt!My asshole! Ooooohhhhhh!"

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

Then again – clit to cunt to asshole. Like a chant. Like musical chairs. Like Tinkers to Evers to Chance.