Honey Flava
Mimi (the one with the hairless pussy) came up for a breather from between Tammi’s long, sweat-slicked legs. Tammi’s whimpers of protest were muffled and lost in Sherilyn’s hairy little cunt.
The vibration of Tammi?
??s voice, or perhaps simply just her whimpers, caused Sherilyn’s purple nipples to harden into sharp points. In return, she rode Tammi’s face faster. Her powerful thighs flexed as she dipped her chubby pussy down, like inking a quill, over and over onto Tammi’s waiting tongue.
George Michael, one would assume, still wanted his sex.
Mimi patted the dripping lips of her mouth dry with a bar towel, flung her straight, knee-length, blue-black hair over her shoulder, and sauntered toward the tourist.
The look in her black eyes was playful, her grip dead serious, as she grabbed for his iron-hard penis beneath his khakis.
She wedged her long, thin pointer-finger into his mouth (which was still firmly attached to Tina’s boob) and plucked sharply at its corner.
The reluctant detachment of mouth from boob sounded like a rubber boot pulling out of mud.
Tina colada dribbled down his chin.
Tina immediately snapped her top back into place, cracked her neck from left to right, smoothed her skirt, slid from the booth, and relocated to a rusted fold-up chair in the corner.
She conjured a nail file out of thin air and began to whittle at her fingers.
Mimi unzipped his fly and skillfully freed his throbbing penis. It was roughly twelve inches long.
His eyes met his dick bulge for bulge in the “bigger than they had ever been” department. He didn’t have time to contemplate how his normally average-size member had grown to pony-cock proportions in a matter of seven and a half minutes of bad pop song because Mimi frowned.
What kind of woman frowns at a foot-long penis? he thought.
She made an irritated hmph sound and spun toward Tina.
“He too small,” she said in a breathy, childlike voice that was so very Minnie Mouse meets Marilyn Monroe.
The sound made his scrotum ache in a pleasant way.
Tina gave a nonchalant shrug and kept filing. “So make big.”
Mimi pursed her lips in a second of thought, then turned her attention back to him. She expertly spun some of her silky hair into a knot on top of her head, the remaining length of it trailing to her waist, and took a deep breath.
The action reminded him of a potter pushing up her sleeves, or a doctor snapping his gloves—a simple ritual to prepare herself for whatever it was that she did.
She began to blow.
The air from her pursed lips felt warm and alive.
Deep breath; the rain came down in torrents.
“Huffwhooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”
She blew again.
He looked down at his humming dick and was astonished to see that with each gust of air that she pushed from her lungs he seemed to grow another inch.
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…
Tammi wiggled over and slipped his khakis off while Sherilyn came up behind him and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest—nails teasing nipples over his polo shirt.
Tammi tugged at his shoes and socks, then rolled her pointy nipples between his toes.
Twenty-one, twenty-two…