Olivia Marsh - Expert Tongue Trippers

"'My God, what difference does that make?' The pupils surfaced lazily in her eyes. 'You're not a Nazi, are you?' she purred. 'Nothing wrong with a little kosher crotch, is there?'

"I assured her that kosher crotch was indeed a delicacy that I could rarely refuse if it was offered tastefully and with the right garnish. I also asked her how she had managed to read my mind and if that was a common thing with Libras. Come to think of it, I believe I also told her that, to my knowledge, I had never eaten any Libra pussy, kosher or not.

"Well that seemed to turn her on for some reason. She closed her eyes, her mouth trembled and her knees did an imperceptible jig. 'God,' she moaned. ‘I've never had an Aquarius suck my pussy. And here it is the age of Aquarius. "When the moon… " 'she sang, and then stopped abruptly. 'My God,' she said, ‘we've got to see what the moon is like tonight.' And she grabbed my hand and ran out the door with me.

"There was a slight overcast, or the moon was behind trees or something, because we never did get to see it. We started kissing immediately, deep, wet kisses with lots of tongue. She somehow got her mouth wrapped around my lower lip and scrunched it up and sucked on it till I thought I was gonna have a hickey.

"We unmeshed our mouths and tumbled into my little Austin Healey Sprite. She thought it was cute, and I was thankful for the gearshift which allowed my hand to take side excursions along her thighs and abdomen. Hell, I had ‘four on the floor' and a couple extra just about seat level.

"'I dig your shifting," she told me.

" ‘My shifting digs you.'

"As I had surmised from my visual mapping of her shape, her thighs were indeed full and solidly spongy. At the top of her thighs, where the jeans made a tight vee in her crotch, I could feel the heat and humidity generated by her pussy. Right along the hard seam I felt the pulpy damp of her cunt lips, compressed under the warm denim, absolutely vibrant against my probing fingers.

"'Hoo, ga-a-a-ah,' she warbled. I pressed my hand more firmly into the arch of her jeans as the spiral volutes of her Ionic thighs quivered against my hand.

"'Ha-a-agh, hm-m-mh,' I sighed. The bulge in my own pants was becoming quite noticeable, at least to me. Her hand rested lightly on the shaft that lengthened down my pants leg. We lovingly fondled each other's privates for the mile or so we had to go to her pad. God, I can tell you, I hated to shift out of fourth.

"We drove silently, each musing on his own- her own? My thought was mainly how I'd like to mulch my mouth over her cunt: mulch her pubic hair and thick labia with the hot flesh of my mouth and tongue; gently macerate her pubes with drool. I spent a few salutary moments contemplating the prospect of mushing over a kosher Grecian Libra cunt.

"Fascinating. Like the fragrance of a very private nosegay, attar of pussy wafted by my nostrils.

"As we pulled up in front of her apartment building, I adjusted my aching hard on. 'You'll have to tell me all about this horoscope business,' I said by way of idle chatter. I had to take a hell of a piss. I stamped my feet and rubbed my hands as though from the night chill, but in reality to keep my bladder from springing a leak. And talking helped.

"When we got inside, I saw with sudden impatience, that she had a roommate who was entertaining three guests. I'm not sure if the impatience was because our hitting the sack would be delayed or because I had to stop and say hello before I could make a dash for the head. One good thing was that there was groovy music playing on the hi-fi and the lights were turned romantically low.

"It turned out I didn't have to worry at all about there being guests. Gail had her own bedroom. When I came out of the bathroom, announced with a flourish of flushing toilet, she motioned me into her room. Alone at last.

"She'd loosened her belt and undone her jeans so they were comfortably loose and flappy around her waist, and she was stretched out on her king-size bed listening to Blood, Sweat and Tears. She wore a very thin tie-dyed shirt, and I noted that over each breast there was a rose-colored star effect. That must've been what made me think she was braless I figured. But, no, she said, she'd just now put it on because it was comfortable. Under the pink roses, her nipples obtruded emphatically.

"I was both glad and sorry that I'd taken my piss. Sorry because I knew the sight of those up-thrusting tits would've sent a tingle through my dick; happy because I also knew that my dick wouldn't be able to take many tingles before it shot all over the place. And it has been my experience that when chicks get eaten they like it to be a long drawn-out process, a little prelude, a little seduction, and lots of the nitty-gritty-lots of tongue and lip action.

"Through the unzipped gap in Gail's jeans I could see a white wedge of sheer, tight panties, and under them a clearly visible line of black, curly pubic hair. That kept the old tingle going in my cock quite enough to keep it from going completely limp. Every once in a while she smiled and gave a lazy undulation of her belly and thighs. That made the old cock twitch.

"'Shit!' she exclaimed whenever that happened. And the first time, she added, ‘I really like to watch that thing jump. It gets my juices going.' She undulated again, I twitched, she cooed with delight. We just sat there that way for a couple minutes, looking at each other, getting our juices going.

"'Hot cock,' she mused once or twice, 'I love the feel of hot cock in my mouth.'

"I began to feel a bit self-conscious, not because of our genital-centered meditation, but because I was sure her roommate and her friends could hear us in the next room. I mentioned my concern.

" ‘They went outside. Sandy likes to blow guys outdoors at night.' Gail was sipping a glass of port wine, and reclining there on her pillow-fluffed king-size bed, she looked like a hot-lipped houri. I felt a charge of exquisite dissoluteness begin to grow in me.

"Gail saw the lust suffuse my face. She slipped her jeans farther down on her hips. 'Sandy says there's just something about the effects of the stars and the moonlight that simply inspires her to extraordinary efforts.' She leered. Her hips seemed to undulate, or maybe it was my eyes. It was discombobulating.

"'Damn, I'm getting hot,' I said. I undid my own belt and trousers, damn near snagging the zipper in the process. I slid my hands flat under the band of my shorts. That seemed to relieve a little of the pressure that was building up in my groin. My rod rose comfortably against the unconstraining cloth of the shorts.

"Leering, somehow virginally, and with a twinkle in her eye that showed she appreciated my situation, Gail began to unbutton her shirt. Slowly she revealed creamy inches of flesh from the waistband of her panties to the collar of her shirt, as if she was pulling aside the slow curtain on a show. When three or four inches of midstage were unveiled, revealing enticing swells of breast and dimple of navel, she turned her attention to her jeans. Slowly, again, she pushed the snug things down to her knees, over her ankles, and stepped out of them. I thought I could detect her nipples peeking around her shirt.

"Then, as she stood there poised in her full, tapering legs, her milk-white flesh centering my attention on the magnetic core of her lushly haired twat, she threw her shoulders back and slowly dropped the shirt to the floor. I whimpered, seized with desire.

"Shit, she may not have had the biggest tits in the world, but she sure knew how to display them. They were high, firm, with rosy, candy-apple tips the size of a silver dollar, where the nipples, nestled warmly in the pink flesh, began to stand up proudly. They rounded into solid flesh that tapered slightly to her trim hips. Her navel, as I somehow knew it would, showed itself just the right size and depth to accommodate an inch of my tongue tip.