“Alyson,”
she said softly. “Most women will never get this chance I’m giving you. I saw
you look at me earlier tonight. It was like,
so sexual. Don’t deny it. Don’t fight it. You may never get this chance
again.”
She moved toward the edge of
the bed.
I could smell her—a faint whiff of
cheap, teenage perfume.
“Cheerleader,”
she whispered. “Isn’t it a magical word! Say it. slut, ‘cheerleader.’”
There was a charged rush of
images shooting through my brain, planted there over the years: white cotton
panties, creamy thighs, tanned legs, innocent pouty lips and tit-filled
sweaters of wanton desire.
Is this how my ex-husband felt when
he ogled those girls in skimpy uniforms, shouting out rhymed cheers?
Kay knelt on the edge of the
bed, throwing one leg over my body. She
then laid on top of me. I could feel her firm tits pressing against my arm, her
thighs locked around one of my legs. When her lips touched mine I nearly
fainted.
“Don’t do this,” I mumbled.
“Get off of me,” I tried to cry out.
All I heard was my heartbeat.
The heat from her body—her
wonderfully soft firm body—sent a shiver from head to toe. Her tongue, as it
roamed over my teeth, my palate, my throat, and seemed like a natural
intrusion.
I tried to push her away; but
no, my hand was grasping the back of her head to hold her lips tightly to mine.
My body went weak when I felt
something wet and warm sliding up and down my upper leg. I could make out the
outline of her hips as she humped, fucking my leg like a male dog.
There were moans in the room and I
wasn’t sure who was making them…
She whispered in my ear. “Do
you want me to eat your pussy, baby? Do you want me to suck your clit, your
gorgeous cunt?”
I groaned.
“Or do you want to suck my
creamy wet cunt, lick my soft sweaty ass crack, let my warm pussy juice fill
your slutty mouth? I’m a squirter,” she added.
I didn’t know what that was.
“Well?” she said.
