J Long - Three horny teachers

Melinda pretended not to notice Bernice's phallic forehead… "My name's Melinda. Melinda. Can I come in? I heard rumors that you were lonely for someone like sue. How 'bout it? Wants get it on?"

Did she want to get it on? Did Bernice Hudson want to do dirty nasty, lesbian tricks with this babe? Do eunuchs have balls? Does Superman screw Lois Lane?

"Holy shit! I think I hit the jackpot! Come on in!"

Melinda went in with a swaggering, ass-swaying motion that made Bernice drool. God, if she were a man, her cock would have sprung a leak a long time ago! If she were a man, she'd have raped this fucking cunt!

Stilt! Why not? Women loved to be raped all the time!

"Look… what's your name? Oh yeah, Melinda. Look, Melinda, let's not beat around the bush. I wants eat you… I wants put my cock into your asshole while I eat you. You dig?"

"Oh, wow! Honey, you do come on strong, don't you? Oh, wow! I dig! How do you want me?"

"On the bed and spread 'em wide!"

Melinda sank on the waterbed, going crazy with the itchy-twitchy feeling that ran through her loins. She was so fucking hard up for a girl. So fucking hard up for a woman to make love to her siliconed tits and siliconed hips, and all over her body, even between her legs – where she felt real hard up.

Bernice stood over Melinda.

"Melinda, I'm going…"

"Please, call me Mel. I need a woman to call me Mel! God! It's been so long between women. Usually I have to fuck and suck so many guys that their cocks make me sick! Oh, God! I can't wait for a woman to make love to me!"

"Yeah, well… okay, Mel. Listen, Mel. I just wanta tell you I'm really hard up, too… well, if I hurry too much and come too soon, well, you know how those things go."

"Oh, Jesus! Just hurry! Suck me! Suck me all over!"

Bernice sat down beside the luscious creature, ran her hands up and down the goose pimply flesh of her thighs, deliberately avoided her crotch, deliberately moved to the bandanna bra.

The bandanna bra slid away, and Bernice gasped. "Oh, God! Kiss them! I can't help it if they're false – my agent made me do it! He made me put silicone in my titties!"

Bernice wanted to kill Melinda's agent, wanted to find his cock and cut it off. He was no different than any other man who treated women like toilet paper used them, then threw 'em away, used some more, then threw'em away.

But silky soft hands soothed her anger. Bernice moaned as Melinda undid the buttons on her bowling shirt, reached inside and cupped her titties.

"Ooh! Mel! Jesus! That feels so good!"

"Then please do the same to mine! I still have lots of feeling in my tits."

Bernice rubbed Melinda's rubbery tits.

They felt like tits.

They smelt like tits.

They melted – like tits do when they're in an experienced lesbian's mouth.

Bernice went ape-shit as her tongue made wet circles around Melinda's nipples. God! What beautiful false tits! Poor girl! She probably had to have her tits sucked twice as hard because of the insensitive silicone.

Bernie sucked twice as hard as usual.

"oooohhhh! my titties! Suck 'em, babe! Oooohhhh suck 'em, babe!"

Bernice shifted the cock at her forehead to one side.

Melinda stopped her.

Melinda grabbed the false cock.

Melinda licked the false cock that unicorned from Bernice's forehead.

Bernice looked up, watched Melinda's sensuous tongue flick once, twice, then thrice against the knob of her prick.

Oh, God! Look at that tongue! God! What a long tongue! Only women had tongues like that – so smooth and delicious-looking and ooh, sooooo gentle! Not like a fucking slobbery man's tongue that was caked with tobacco and felt like a rasping file.

Bernice went back to her task of tonguing Melinda's false titties as Melinda licked her false cock.

This was true love! This was how it should be! Two women completely honest and open, loving and licking, lapping and lost in the heat of honest-to-goodness passion.

Bernice's cock quivered as her head shook, because her tongue was doing whirling-dervish whiplashes on Melinda's rubber tits.

Melinda's tongue flicked left and right, up and down, trying to follow the movements of Bernice's rubber cock.

"Aaaaiiiieeee! Oooohhhhh! Please! Bernice! Go down on me! Go down on me! It's been so long since a woman's gone down on me!"

Bernice's tongue moved south, like the birds and ducks and mallards, her mouth migrating to the feeding station of Melinda's navel, found the navel unappetizing, then moved to the border of crepe material that hid Melinda's pussy.

God! Bernice couldn't wait! She was like a hen in heat! Like a duck who wanted to fuck! With that crepe border lay a pussy that would be hot and hungry for Bernice's pecking lips.

Melinda groaned: "God! Hurry! Tongue me! Suck it! Go down on me! Huuurrrryyyy!"

Bernice wanted to hurry, but she also wanted to savor the Sappho delicacy of this creature spread before her. Shit, there was lots of time before her tongue roosted, or, rather, rooted in Melinda's pussy.

Sure, Bernice was hot. But teasing was half the game. Chasing was half the fun.

She teased Melinda – tickled her navel and her false tits.

"Aaaaiiieeee! Hurry! Oh, God! I want your mouth on my – aaaaiiiiffpr! Yes! Squeeze my titties! Oh, yeah!"

Bernice chased – moved her hand from beneath Melinda's hips to her ass, then stoic a few feels of the woman's hot asshole.

"Aaaaiiiieeee! Hurry! Oh, God! I want your mouth on my – aaauiieeee! Yes! Finger my asshole! Oh, yeah!"

Bernice teased Melinda's false titties and chased her real asshole.

Then it was time to go down south.

It was time to roost in the nest of Melinda's cunt.

Bernice peeled the crepe material down, moved it southward, slowly, teasingly.

Hair!

Ooooooh, rich, luscious pubic hair. So soft and downy. Unlike man's hard and coarse curls that reeked of cooked walnuts.

Bernice held her breath, took a good grip on the crepe material. Her forearm tensed.

Rrrrriiiipppp!

God! Look at that! A beautiful prick! So soft and feminine. So unlike – "What?! My God! You've gotta prick, Mel! oh, God!"

Melinda said: "Huh?"

The Tinker Toy Casino was its usual self – noisy, greedy, brimming with people, some in tuxes, some in swimming trunks, and some inebriated.

Like Hazel Turnbow.

Whose floor-length black dress smelled as if it had been laundromatted in Southern Comfort.

Whose bonnet tilted on her slightly-gray head like the glasses that were ready to drop off her nose.

Whose only comfort in a lonely motel room had been antebellum in taste.

Hazel swigged the bottle of Southern Comfort, gazed blurry at the rows of slot machines.

People in the casino thought she was an epileptic seamstress, she was weaving so badly.

And she had been weaving quietly on the steps leading down into the den of unity for ten minutes. They seemed like ten hours. She finally made up her mind.

She was gonna have fun! Fuck those who say librarians can't have fun! Fuck 'em! She was a human being who had a right to have fun just like any other greedy person. Who said only pretty girls have fun? Miss Clairol? Well, fuck Miss Clairol, too!

Who said only horny Marines have fun? John Wayne? Well, fuck him too!

Rrrrriiipppp!

Jesus fucking Christ! Her first step into the den of fun and she fuckin' tore her dress. Well, fuck her dress, too!

Rriiippp! Rrriiippp! Rrriiippp!

Hazel threw the tatters of her black dress to the air-conditioned breeze. Like confetti. Like New Year's. Yeah, fucking New Year's!

"Happy New Year!"

Hazel blinked her blurry eyes. Didn't they know it was New Year's? What the fuck were they staring at?

Hazel stumbled three steps down, recovered shakily with a grip on the handrail. What the fuck were they looking at?