Olivia Marsh - Expert Tongue Trippers

"My cock sprang rigid through the fly of my shorts.

"'Oooh!' she exclaimed. She stepped quickly to the hi-fi tuner, her eyes glued to my erect joint as she fiddled for a knob. 'We simply have to turn up Joe Cocker.' With her Madonna-like visage intact, she leered.

" ‘I'll give you Joe Cocker,' I said, flexing my hard on. 'Pretty soon this cocker is going to sing happy birthday to your cunter.' I was getting a tight feeling in my chest.

"'Grroovy-poo,' she chimed. 'But not till after we…'

"'No, no,' I hastened to say. 'First things first, definitely.' I'm not a guy who likes to suck a pussy full of come. 'First it will be I who will sing happy birthday, dear pussy. Aquarius tongue celebrating the coming of age of Libra twat.'

"'God,' she moaned. 'I have never been so turned on by an Aquarius in my life.' She turned up the gain on the bass. 'And Aquarii always turn me on.' There was a palpable hum in the hair.

"I couldn't stand it anymore. I tore off my shirt and pants, my underwear, my socks. I let my red, raging hard on bounce free. It was all I could do to keep my hands off flesh-hers or mine, I didn't care.

"With a final flick of the bass knob she said, 'There are very interesting things that can be done with speakers on hi-fi systems. We'll have to try some of them before the night is over.'

"'Shit! Woman.' I bleated. 'Here I am getting light-headed because all the blood is rushing to my cock, and you stand there naked as a jaybird, twiddling dials on your goddamn tuner and talking about frequency response or some goddamn thing!' I felt neglected. 'Let's have a little frequency response in this direction.'

"My outburst seemed to trigger a responsive chord in her-or maybe it was one of Joe Cocker's sexy lyrics-and she kind of pirouetted from the hi-fi with her tongue lolling in her half-open mouth.

"'Mmmm, God, that's a turn-on, that is.' She skipped to the bed and threw herself on it. 'Good shit: Aquarii are better than dope.' Her thighs rolled apart and she dug her toes into the shag rug and pulled on the tufts. 'And you, my love, are the turningest-on Aquarius I have ever met.'

"Shit, I thought, if astrology turns her on I'll play her silly little game. Only, maybe it wasn't so silly, because I hadn't had such a raging, raw-meat hard on in years. My damn cock stuck out like a fucking telephone pole.

"Gail, naturally, had something to do with the overall effect. Lying there with her firm, rose-tipped breasts heaving and her round, meating thighs framing a well-muscled belly and a cunt cushioned with an impressive mat of fine, black, glistening hair, she was mouth-watering. As I walked slowly toward the bed, I could read the invitation, the yearning, in her eyes.

"I drank in the vision of that mounded belly, those built-to-enfold thighs, the padded hillocks of her hipbones. But my gaze was soon fixed on the lush triangle of curled black hair through which I glimpsed the folded petals of her cunt lips.

"'You want the light out?' I asked as I sank to my knees. I was close enough to smell the natural fragrance of her flesh-like a fresh-picked melon in a field of flax. There was a tiny pulse in her groin.

"'Oh no. No,' she said. She had the softest, loveliest smile on her face I've ever seen. 'I want to watch. I want to see everything.' The gold flecks in her eyes sparkled.

"I ran my fingers slowly, softly over her thighs and along her groin until the fingertips just touched the soft edge of the lustrous thatch of hair. Then down the warm, waxen furrows to the firm pillows of her buttocks. I cupped each cushion of flesh in my hands and brought my face slowly toward her muff. The scent was wild, honey and almonds.

"I took a deep breath. Our eyes locked.

"'Happy birthday, Gail.'

"She smiled radiantly.

"'Happy birthday, Libra cunt.' I placed my mouth firmly on the succulent petals. Warm. They melted in my mouth, on either side of my tongue.

"The sob she sighed was heavenly music to my ears. It stirred me to concentrated, concerted action; every fiber of my body, every cell of my brain focused on sucking, licking, tonguing, eating cunt like I'd never eaten it before.

"Her hands flew to the back of my head, her thighs trembled, closed firmly over my ears, drowning out all sound but the inner noises of my tongue sloshing and plapping deep in viscid, musky cunt. Every now and again I could feel, more than hear, Gail's moans and sobs racking her body.

"I gripped her buttocks more tightly and felt her torso lift off the bed. I buried my face more deeply in her sopping muff. My nose pressed her clitoris and my chin touched her asshole. I pushed my tongue into her vagina and probed the jellied walls.

"She humped forward, so hard I had to pull my lips over my teeth, and heaved an ecstatic sigh. Her buttocks tightened and trembled, her thighs pitched and flapped on my cheeks. With a cry of joy and release, she came, a rush of juice and honey warming my tongue and lips. Again and again, she bucked and twisted, moaned and sobbed.

"'Oh God! Oh fuck! Oh shit!' She babbled and sobbed deliriously. She humped and rocked. Her entire crotch shivered and twitched and turned into a hot, musky swamp. Her labia quivered around my dancing tongue, clamped on it like a soft-shelled oyster, drawing me in. 'Hot fu-u-u-u-uck!' She rasped a final sigh and collapsed."

The operative word in this case is communication. Young people everywhere are striving to communicate with each other and the world around them-even with their parents. It is the lack of communication which creates the so-called generation gap.

Bernard Barber points out in his essay Three Human Females (an analysis of the Kinsey report) that communication actually depends upon much more than sex (the biological factor). Dr. Barber approached the study of human behavior in the following way:

Above all things, in the analysis of human behavior of any kind we must free ourselves of the biologistic fallacy. All human behavior has three inherent and inter-related aspects: the biological, the psychological, and the social. We must seek to discover the relative share of influence that each has on any given kind of human behavior. This relative share will vary for different kinds of behavior, though no aspect will ever be totally unimportant. To see that the psychological and social aspects are significant is not to deny the biological influence. We must, of course, avoid also the psychologistic and sociologistic fallacies. The biological, the psychological and the social aspects of man's behavior interwork from birth, even from conception, onwards. Society alone makes it possible for man to realize his biological nature. Without society, as Hobbs showed so well, there would be only the war of all against all, and there would be no ordered sexual or any other kind of human behavior.

A strong factor in A's case is the emphasis placed upon astrology. The recent interest in this ancient art may be observed in the same three-fold manner described by Barber in his analysis.

First, in the psychological realm: Al regards himself as an Aquarian, uses this information for ego satisfaction. A person born under this sign, he points out, is "ahead of his time," superior, etc. He uses this knowledge as a basis for favorable comparison, for sexual confidence, and so on. Also, to a lesser degree, he attempts to really understand himself through astrology.

Second, let us take a look at the sociologic factor. The astrological "rap" is a significant "icebreaker" for both sexes. It is for the male a refinement of the worn-out gambit of "come up and see my etchings." The Aquarian Casanova says, "Let me do your chart." For the female, astrological knowledge is an updating of the old "dropping the handkerchief ploy-somehow not suitable to the demands of our instant-sex culture. If the girl is really good, as Gail appears to be in this case, she can actually "guess the sign," worth a few extra points on the social stock market.