Unknown - Charity Ball

Some little vixen.

Smooth as quicksand.

Griffith tore his jacket away. Kicked off his canvas slip-on deck shoes, allowing them to float to the surface. He shoved his wallet into one of the soggy floating shoes and snaggled off his pants and underpants over his legs.

As he peeled off his teeshirt, Veronica was on him, wrenching his unconstructed duck sports jacket around his neck.

Veronica swam strongly, pulling the material tight about Griffith’s head and neck.

His engorging dingdong broke the surface of the water. Veronica tittered when she saw the cockhead bob in the water from side to side.

When they had attained the side of the pool, Griffith ducked his head. Grabbed a handful of boob and a hank of pubic hair.

Veronica dipped beneath him.

Coiled about him and took his dick in her face as her legs choked his neck.

“Ngh.”

“Duck yourself, bub.”

Lance blew air out from his lungs. He sank to the bottom of the pool as Veronica extricated herself from his flesh and hopped up.

“Come on,” she hollered. “Or have you already had enough?”

“What game are you playing?”

Griffith pressed himself up partway out of the water with both arms.

Veronica let a palm drape over his forehead. Pushed down with all her weight.

Griffith again sank beneath the surface.

Sputtering, he clipped both hands about Veronica’s ankles, but lost the angle.

Veronica’s toes were in his eyes.

He bit out.

She kicked him playfully in the snout. Griffith reached his hand aloft. “How about you helping me out this time?” he said. “Make any sense?“

“I can handle it,” Veronica said offhandedly. “But first get your fucking clothes out of my lake. I don’t like the way they muck up my practice area.

Looks like seaweed.”

Griffith paddled about the pool. Gathered up his discarded clothing and piled them on the side.

Veronica’s tits swayed toward his face as she bent to help lift him from the water.

Her fingers squeaked along his skin.

Laughing, Veronica then released.her grip, and he slipped downward.

Griffith bobbed back up and rubbed his eyes.

And was thereupon blinded by the liquid slicing inside his eye folds.

“Na-na-na-na-na.”

The guzzling sound echoed in his ears. Fizzling noises drummed against his forehead. Griffith dodged left and right. “Yikes!”

Veronica followed him. Aiming her quim straight into his face.

Pestering his gaze with trickles of tinkle.

He pulled a smile.

His own rictus perpendicular to the crinkled grin of Veronica’s groin.

“Wheee!” Veronica chirruped. “Whiz-bang. I got you right in the teeth, you geek.”

Griffith’s jaws chattered.

His cock was abruptly hard.

Painfully erect in his grasp.

As he sizzled in the splash of liquid effervescing from Veronica’s gash.

His tongue slavered around the ups of his face. Face to face with Veronica’s sheared pubis as urine spumed from her lace.

He gargled her fresh piss as he stretched forth his neck. Buried his choppers into Veronica’s snatch, spewing and raw.

Griffith’s dentition tore into her labia like a saw. He worked his head from side to side.

Sucking in her succulence through her trimmed flocculence.

Tasting tartness of twat as the last traces of piss raced from her slit.

“So you like water sports,” Griffith gummed out into her grime.

Veronica shrugged.

“Stuff comes easy to me,” she said flatly. “I enjoy doing what I’m good at. How about you, Mister Private Dick? You like working over chicks in the line of business?”

“No. I’m not very good at it.”

“Then shut up, you old billygoat and work your chinny-chin-chin on my quimmy-quim-quim.”

Griffith chucked her thighs apart. Placed his hands athwart her haunch.

Launched tongue forward with liquid alacrity. Lashed labia with whip action.

“Not bad for a cad,” Veronica snorted. “Go ahead. Drive me mad.”

Griffith churned his chin upward.

Nipped into her clit.

Slowly, sucking in clam juice from Veronica’s cockleshell, he emerged from the drink. Veronica began to sink to her knees on the surface beside him. Legs glided aside.

She stretched back her neck.

Tits beckoned his fingers from her chest.

“Neaugh.”

Griffith found boob in his grip. Pulled a nippletip toward his yip.

“Omigawd, you’re good,” she said with apparently genuine surprise.

He ate at her breast as though it were a rum soaked sponge cake baba.

He savored the taste.

Ground a nipple into his face.

Then trailed his tongue down between her paps. Thundering the tip along her ribs.

Nibbling navel.

Scratching her skin with his two-day stubble of beard. Smearing saliva about her flat tummy.

Sniffing honey brimming alive from within her nearby hive.

His tongue tapered like a stinger toward her buzzing clit.

Veronica flapped her arms like a hovering insect. Several small jets of piss came again from her winsome snatch.

Dripping micturition from her soaking patch.

“Sssss,” she hissed through her teeth. “Oooooh. Love that sound.”

Veronica’s tongue clapped against the top of her pallet. Clacks and sucks echoed through her snout as the snot snorted out.

There was a cringe in her craw.

Drool drooped from her yammering jaw.

Whimpers strained from her gullet.

Smacking sounds emerged from her smirk.

And Griffith’s maw remained at work.

He herky-jerked his head.

Nuzzling fuzz in a rush of frenzy.

Nicking clitoris with his heavy stubble.

Rutsweat slimed from Veronica’s underarms. Her unshaven armpits asked for the fuck as much as did another woman’s slit.

“You know,” Griffith spoke grimly as he took a sip from her slime slit, “you are the first chickadee I’ve seen today with a monogrammed pip.”

“You mean the way my pussy is clipped into a V shape? I really like it like that too. I was gonna get a tattoo-”

“Just the initial? Or Veronica all the way?’ “The latter.”

“Would be a tight fit.”

“Always is.”

“That an invitation?”

“No-no-no-no-no. I never cuntfuck men. Bad for my training regimen.”

“But you still go all the way, I take it. Just not that way.”

“Depends. I just don’t need emotional involvement. I have to save that kind of energy for my athletic training and competition.”

“Must be very draining.”

“But I can kiss your dick.”

“Sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Bombs away!”

He kicked up his hips, balls in hand. Stuck his stick between her lips.

“See?” she said. “I can give you head. And, like- who needs flicking when sucking feels so good? And fingers you will agree are more nimble than that prick any time.”

The penis tooled on down her throat. Ballocks piled over the sides of her chin.

He rested his palms on the side of her head. fingered her wet tresses as she trussed his pecker within her neck.

He caressed her chin with the fingerprints of one hand. Ran the other beneath his ballocks and bobbled a boob.

“Indeed,” she breathed.

Veronica took hold of his testicles and squeezed. Yanked down hard.

“Awk!”

His jimjam jumped in her jaw.

Prick ramming like an animal on the loose.

Griffith’s mouthrut increased.

Then the thrusting subsided.

Veronica held his hog captive in her maw. Teeth clamped about the base.

Neck muscles strangling the tip.

Veronica played her hands along the length of her neck. Jacking the prick inside with wide flails of extended fingernails.

Griffith began to wail.

“Pawpaw-pawpaw-pawpaw-pawpaw hmmm maumau. Pah-pah ooohm mau-mau.”