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Sunni XXX
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Sunni's Spring Vacation
Part 1 of 8
When the four sixteen year olds decided to go camping, their parents
insisted on at least one adult chaperone. It was rather flattering that
they came running to me, Sarah's favorite aunt, to ask me if I would be
it. Gathering promises that they would spend their time hiking and
exploring and leave me alone at the campsite to write on my trusty
Sparkman laptop, I agreed. From the events that followed, obviously my
altruistic nature was eagerly rewarded by the ever abundant universe.
The kids had the campsite set up by the time I arrived Friday evening
tired from work and a long drive to an east Texas state park, I decided
to go to the showers while the youths got our supper started. This park
actually had doors to the shower stalls but the stalls were so small, a
body couldn't even turn around in them. It was already dark and no one
else was in the bathroom, so I left my door open so I could move. The
water was much too cold and in my hurry, I kept dropping the soap.
It was while I was doing so one more time, that I noticed a movement
from the corner of my eye and I turned to see a young woman darting
around the corner back to the toilet area. Her movements were so
furtive, I suspected she'd been watching me for who knew how long.
Considering the flash of curly blond hair and the shapely ass displayed
in tight jeans, I wished she'd stayed.
When I got back to the campsite, I was rather bummed to discover that
our neighbors on either side were together and having a camping type
family reunion. Their kids ran through our campsite back and
forth between their two and the adults brayed loudly, probably from the
numerous beers they were surreptitiously downing behind their camper
(park
regulations prohibited the consumption or display of alcoholic
beverages). The women were those horsey kind that make you wish you
were deaf for the duration, and the potbellied redneck men were leering
at me when it was their ladies' turn to go behind the camper for beers.
"Hey, darlin'," one of them called. "Why don't you cumover an' join
us?"
"Yeah," called another. "I been separated three weeks an I could use
the comp'ny of a purty liddle lady like yerself."
I started to decline politely when I noticed her peeking out of one of
the smaller two person tents. From the curly blond hair, I suspected
her of being my peeping Thomasina from the showers. She was laying in
her tent on her stomach, half out of her tent and propping herself up
with her elbows. From this distance and in the dark I couldn't tell
what color her eyes were, but I could tell she was well tanned,
extremely attractive and watching me. Possibilities always intrigue me.
You never know when a possibility may turn to a probability to a fact.
And oh the facts, they are what memories are made of, good and bad.
"That's nice of you," I called. And lying to give me some cover, "But
my old man at home might not like me keeping company with cowboys. He
knows I have a weakness for them!"
"Then he shunna let his woman go alone into the woods!" one of the
hooted.
"Shet yer mouth," his wife snapped, as the ladies returned from behind
the camper.
"I think we can take care of yer hubby," the separated one called.
"Maybe," I answered. "But not all his buddies at the station."
"He a cop?"
"Nope," I replied and pulled a favorite Sunnerism. "A fireman."
Now, A Sunnerism is a lie that falls into the category of "Lies that
work every time". One of the best known ones is how to get rid of
religious fanatics who insist on "Sharing something with you." Look
them straight in the eye and say "I'm Jewish." Catholic works, too,
but with Jewish you get the satisfaction of seeing them scramble away.
I guess somewhere they have it written that Catholics and Jews are all
going to hell so don't bother to convert them. But with Catholics,
they'll still want to leave you their tracts in the hopes that the world
might win over another papist. Claim your Jewish and some of them don't
even say goodbye! If I told them the truth, that I'm a practicing
bi-sexual hedonist, they'd burn my house down!
The secret to getting rid of unwanted redneck males is claim you are
married to a fireman. If you try for something too macho - cop,
football player, they feel they have to press forward unafraid or be
labeled yellow. But fireman are heroes, no decent southern man fucks
with a heroes woman! And so they are being "Gallant" not cowards and
they don't feel bad, but rather brotherly.
"Well, darlin'" he called back. "I can't promise after another few to
be able to keep my hands offin a sweet morsel like you! But yer welcome
to join us if you wanna!"
Sunni's Spring Vacation
Part 2 of 8
"Oh hush, Bubba," one extremely enormous woman slapped him on the arm.
"Don't mind him, girl. He's the youngest and as fresh as April. You
come on over and join us and we'll see he keeps his hands ta hisself."
"Go ahead, Sunni," one of my charges said, her arm around her
boyfriend's waist. "We're ready for bed anyway."
Looking right at the blond woman, I called "All right, I'll be there in
a minute."
Then turned to the kids, "Okay, what's the arrangements? Boys in my
smaller tent and we three ladies in the larger?"
The two girls giggled. "Sunni, you can sleep in your tent. We four are
gonna share the big one."
Without any other comment, the four turned and started for the large
six-sleeper.
"Hold it right there."
I put on my "Sunni is not kidding" voice. I could see there shoulders
tense as they slowly turned, preparing for the typical adult bullshit
they had hoped Sexy Sunni wouldn't give them.
"Do you have condoms?"
The boys jaws dropped and the girls stared blankly. One of the boys
pulled a handful from his pocket.
"Know how to use them correctly?"
The boy grinned, "If I saw no, will you put one on me?"
I could tell from his girlfriend's expression this was not acceptable
and to be honest young boys are not my style.
"No, but I'm sure Bubba over there can show you how."
"No thanks," the boy laughed good naturedly. "They showed us in Sex
Education. And I've had a little practice."
"Excellent," I said. "Now, don't get too loud, cuz pickin's are slim
and Sunni may be going to bed alone tonight!"
Thus having the kids settled for the night, I walked over to the main
party campsite and took a folding chair the large woman offered. She
introduced herself as Martha Jo and I marveled at her. At least six and
half feet tall, and all of three hundred pounds she was a mountain of a
woman with a nice face and an air of infinite patience about her. She
was the spokesperson for the group and introductions began. Everyone
present was one of Martha Jo's siblings, or their spouse or offspring.
They had this yearly get together on the anniversary of their Ma and
Daddy's deaths (car accident I gathered). As I met each one, I made
sure
I said something pleasant to each Billy Bob and Billy Jo, and when they
introduced me to the blond woman, I took careful note of the
exasperation I sensed from the others gathered at the loner girl who sat
off by herself in her tent.
"This here's Sally Jo," the large woman pointed off-handedly. "She's my
brother Henry's oldest and a bit queer since she started ta school in
California."
"Hi," I smiled at her, and willed her to come out and join us. She may
have received my request because she sat up almost immediately and come
out of her tent to sit cross legged just a few feet away from me. She
didn't say anything, just nodded, but her eyes were watchful and
interested. I sensed the sexual tension building between us within
seconds of her nearness and was surprised everyone else present didn't
seem to notice. I smiled again, just friendly. I wanted to let her
know I wanted to get to know her better but without her kinfolk also
catching on and tar and feathering me for being a homo bitch despoiler
from hell.
Fortunately it was just those aforementioned kin that gave me the
perfect opportunity. Bubba was talking and started in on a tirade about
that "faggot" Bill Clinton. I smiled broadly and replied.
"I believe homosexuals should have the right to live just like everyone
else."
The silence that followed this statement was thick and nasty like a
swarm of July gnats.
"Sorry, my parents are Yankees."
Sunni's Spring Vacation
Part 3 of 8
"Long as you're sorry for it!" Bubba joked and everyone relaxed and
laughed and went on. Another Sunnerism - only this one true - my poor
parents come from Yankee dairy farmers. But I discovered long ago that
if you make a social faux pas among Southerners - blame on bad Yankee
upbringing. They feel so sorry for you, they forgive just about
anything.
I looked at Sally Jo and I could tell by the way she was looking at me
that she had understood the message. She stood up and whispered loudly
as though they weren't really supposed to hear, "Sunni, I gotta pee.
Would you walk with me to the bathrooms?"
"Sure, Sally Jo," I replied standing. "I've got a flashlight. Excuse
us everybody."
Ladies going to the bathroom together, the most we got was a few nods,
although I didn't like the way Bubba was watching me, real appraisingly.
It felt like he was wondering what he might be able to get away with, so
I didn't say anything at first, just tensely walked along waiting to see
if the drunken redneck would follow us. After a few minutes and no
Bubba appearance, I sighed and relaxed. Sally smiled back at me and
quite bravely took my hand. It was a dark night, the moon a tiny
rocking horse and I hadn't turned on that flashlight yet, not waiting to
pinpoint us should Bubba take it in his head to follow us.
Her hand was warm and slender and felt good in mine, so I squeezed hers
warmly. She'd made the first move, so I thought I'd break the ice
further in my usual Sunni way.
"So, Sally Jo, did you like what you saw in the showers?" I asked.
"Yes," she whispered. "And I've changed my name to Susannah."
We were far around a bend from the campsite, so I dropped her hand and
slipped my arm around her snug waist. "I like that, Susannah."
I kissed her. Just a friendly kiss on the lips, but I held her close
and enjoyed the feel of her against me.
"We can't take too long, they may notice," she whispered, but never left
the confines of my arms.
"They're having a good time, they won't miss us for a little while."
"Bubba will," she replied grimly. "He tried to slip into my tent last
night and after I almost squeezed his balls off, I told him I preferred
woman to men."
"Admirable," I kissed her again. "But dumb. The Bubba's of the world
like to hurt what they can't control."
She nodded. "Fortunately, I just have to make it through tonight. I'm
going into Houston tomorrow and catching a plane back to LA."
"Need a ride?" I offered.
"That would be nice, but I've got a rental car," she reached up and
stroked my cheek. "What is someone as exquisite as you doing in the
middle of Texas?"
I kissed her again, we all know how Sunni likes to reward kindness with
kindness. "There's a number of exquisite women in Texas. We have
quite a nice time."
"Who's we?" she asked and her head brushed down my jaw and neck and
rested teasingly on my breast.
"Some friends of mine," I reached up and cupped one of her own breasts.
They were small, just fit into the palm of my hand which isn't large for
a hand. I could feel her taut nipple through her sleeveless Tshirt,
also small, but very pert. My mouth was watering to taste one.
We heard a dog panting around the bend behind us and the clink of his
metal leash, so with a quick kiss and feel for both of us, we parted and
continued onto the bathrooms.
"I'd like some more private time to get to talk to you," she said.
"Maybe
I could come over to your camp and we could talk. They wouldn't mind
that."
I grinned at her through the darkness and I suspect my hazel eyes must
have been gleaming. "I'd like to talk very much. I'd also like to get
to know you in more intimate ways, too."
"I'd like that, too," she whispered, not wanting the elderly couple with
their fat pomeranian behind us to hear. I didn't care, but I always
respect a partner's wishes on the matter of discretion - particularly
female lovers. The old U.S. is not kind to homosexuals, don't we all
know?
"I have a tent to myself," I whispered back as we walked a little
faster, putting some distance between us and the dog-walkers. "We can
talk till they all crash - which from the alcohol consumption level
won't be that far away. I'd like to show you my wonderful tent. It has
a screen for a roof and we can look at the stars. The kids set it up
under a clearing in the branches so we should get a nice view."
"All right," she laughed. "I always wanted to make love to a beautiful
women outdoors under the stars."
"Being in my tent doesn't exactly qualify for out doors," I grinned.
"True," she whispered and risked stroking my arm. "But it will do
nicely."
We behaved ourselves, with difficulty, for a few hours. Chatting about
her school and her major, Medicine, and then going over to my campsite
on the flimsy excuse that I wanted to show her something I was writing
on. When Bubba tried to join us, I told him it was an article for
Women's Home Journal on Menstruation. I didn't think he'd be
interested, but he could read it if he was. Sunnerisms work once again.
Bubba declined.
What in actuality I had brought with my Sparkman was some of my messages
from the gang here on Adult Links, meaning to reply. I let Susannah read
some of the incredible things you all have written me and I could tell
your words were turning her on. She even reached over as she read and
stroked my leg. I turned away from that party campsite to hide it and
held her hand with my own. When she was finished, she looked at me
incredulously.
"You write dirty stuff with all these people?"
I could see she was torn with differing emotions - obviously what she
had read had turned her on. I had watched her nipples harden and
listened to her breathing get shallower and quicker. I know heat when I
see heat. But something about it seemed to bother her as well. I know
there are a lot of people that would label us many nasty things.
"No, I make love to them with the written word," I shrugged. "It's a
fetish of mine. I discovered that most pornography lacked the personal
part of sex, but the chance to write *erotica* appealed to the writer
in me. So I found this. I found a group of people who wanted to make
love to me back - in the written word. We turn each other on and spice
up each other's lives and never have to worry about unwanted pregnancies
or disease. What is it that bothers you about it?"
Susannah had no trouble answering. "You don't know these people! You
have no idea what they are really like or if you'd want to make love to
them at all!"
"I make love with who they want me to think they are," I answered. "And
who they want me to think they are is good enough for me. You don't
think these are some of the sexiest people you've ever met?"
She nodded, "If these guys were really as they pretend to be, I'd try
bi."
"They're not pretending," I said. "They are showing the sides of
themselves they want the rest of us to see and eliminating the
nonessential parts."
"It just doesn't seem real," she said with a slow shake of her head.
Behind the cover of my body, I stroked her leg, letting my hands caress
her through the denim of her jeans.
"You don't know me, " I said my voice low. "You only know what you see
and from what little we've said to one another, a little bit about what
I may be like. But we're sitting here planning on exploring each
other's every inch as soon as the last of your kinfolk go to bed."
"But we'll really be making love," she said, trying to explain herself.
"You and these people aren't."
I looked into her eyes and saw a narrowness of vision that would grow as
life gave her more experiences. "It is fantasy," I agreed. "But it
makes us feel good, and there's nothing more wrong with it than two
women loving each other."
Susannah understood that argument, at least to realize she should give
it some room. Just then some kinfolk returning to the far campsite
almost stumbled upon me stroking her leg. We innocently waved as they
weaved past and waited, chatting lightly while the rest of the party
slowly crashed. Everyone drifted off to bed, except Bubba. He sat on
his lawn chair with his beer hidden beneath a rubber cozy and glared at
us.
"I don't think he's ever going to bed," she whispered.
"Maybe he's waiting to see if you go to make sure you don't get luckier
than he does," I suggested.
"That could be," Susannah said. "Maybe if I tell you good night and go
to my tent, he'll crash."
"It's worth a try."
She hesitated a moment, then asked "Do you want me to come back?"
"Of course," I answered surprised. "Why do you ask?"
She shrugged, a blond curl falling provocatively in one eye. "I just
thought that, you might, well, not want me to after what I said about
you and your CBS."
"BBS," I grinned. "And you are entitled to your opinion. If it doesn't
agree with mine, no problem. That doesn't make me less hungry for you."
"Hungry?" she asked.
"Like a starving man for a steak," I replied looking her deep in the
eyes. She had the pale blue eyes, clear and promising. Again with my
hand hidden by my concealing body, I stroked between her legs to her
crotch and rubbed gently.
"How about a starving woman?" she grinned and spread her legs just a tad
to make my caress easier and fuller.
"How about one?" I asked, my voice getting lower and huskier with the
feelings she was stirring up inside me. "You show me a hungry woman and
I'll eat her."
Susannah laughed, "You mean feed her."
My grin got bigger. "You deal with your starving women and way you
want, and I'll eat mine."
"I'm starving," she whispered. "Will you eat me?"
"I thought you'd never ask," I leaned forward, momentarily forgetting
old Bubba the Bulldog. She put her hand out to stop me and I brushed at
her hair. "Geez, if the bugs are this bad here, I'd hate to see
Houston."
She smiled at me, "Well, I guess I'll be going to bed. Thanks for
letting me read your article. It was illuminating."
"To say the least," I quipped and walked her to the edge of my campsite
where I waved at Bubba and then returned to my tent to wait.
I listened intently and heard her go into her tent. She unzipped it,
but I never heard her zip it back up. Clever girl. I listened to Bubba
slurp down the rest of his beer, pull it from the cozy with another
slurp and crumple it with his hand. Then the lawn chair groaned and
stretched as he stood and I heard him shuffle through the leaves, then
silence.
As I lay on top of my sleeping bag, waiting for Susannah's return, I
began to stroke my breasts and envisioned taking off her shirt and
enjoying licking and tasting her nipples. I was just slowly arousing
myself, enjoying my little fantasy, when something niggled at my brain.
Some little fact that I had missed, something important. A feeling came
over, kind of a dread mixed with fear. What was wrong?
The night was silent, the crickets chirped, some small creature was
scampering in the leaves behind the tent. Nothing wrong, yet something
was dreadfully wrong. I very cautiously unzipped my tent door and
listened again. Still nothing sounded out of the ordinary. I crept
across my campsite, missing the drifted piles of leaves and listened
again, frustrated that hearing was not one of my heightened senses. As
I stood and waited and looked at the opening tent flap to Susannah's
tent, the missing piece slipped into place. I never heard Bubba unzip
or zip a tent flap, nor open the squeaky camper door. The only place he
could have gone was Susannah's tent.
I freaked a little and made more noise crossing the woody area between
us then I wanted, but my heart was pounding and my hands and knees were
shaking. Adrenaline is not kind to me. As I got closer I heard a
whisper, harsh and low but could not make out what was said. As I
neared the tent opening, I heard a muffled sob and looked around wildly
for a weapon.
On their picnic table stood the remains of their dinner, the dirty
dishes just begging for visitors of the marsupial kind and I snatched up
a nasty serrated steak knife, dropped on all fours and plunged into the
open door way.
I could make out his white ass rising up and down as Bubba raped her.
One beefy hand clamped her mouth shut and and the other was squeezing at
her breast exposed through her ripped tshirt like the uncoordinated
grabbings of a baby, but there was nothing sweet about the cruel way he
pinched and groped. Ramming the knife right to his anus, I growled low
like a ferocious animal. I wanted to shove the knife up his ass so far
it would poke out his belly button but I didn't. That kind of pain is
just not in me to inflict. He cried out, but it was more of a gasp then
a cry of pain and the sound didn't carry much.
"Pull out of her now, pig," I might not be able to physically wound but
let me do the job with words. "You pull out now or I'm gonna widen your
asshole."
Bubba took me at my word and pulled out, afraid to move his ass much.
"Get up on all fours and back out real slow."
I stayed right behind him, the knife nicking away at his anus. When we
were out of the tent, I whispered fiercely, "Lay down on your stomach
and put your hands behind your head!"
Susannah crept out, pulling her jeans back up over her hips. Looking at
her in the little light outside, I could see one eye swelling and her lip
dripped blood. All my reserve to stay calm left me, and without
realizing what I was doing, I grabbed up a thick fire log that hadn't
been needed and slammed the asshole right up side the head, and Bubba
collapsed like a sail in a calm. I was sure the crack would wake all
of the kinfolk up, but nothing happened for the next few minutes. I
pulled the belt off Bubba's pants that were awkwardly about his knee and
wrapped his hands together behind his back.
Susannah looked stunned, but amazingly calm for all that had happened to
her. "Is he dead?"
I shrugged and checked his pulse. "No, he isn't. But he deserves to
be. Do any of these pickups have a CB?"
She shook her head, "We ain't calling anyone."
I didn't say anything, I just got in front of Uncle Bubba and pulled him
into her tent and out of sight. I zipped the tent shut and putting an
arm around her, took her to my tent before I spoke.
"What are you going to do?" I asked getting some ice from the ice chest
and making a cold compress for the side of her face he had struck.
"Nothing," she said. "I'm going to get in my car and drive to Houston
and fly back to California where I'm safe."
"You sure you don't want to turn him in?" I asked. Rape scrambles the
brains, but I knew the son of bitch deserved more than the headache
he'd have when he woke.
"Why?" she shrugged fatalistically. "He's got away with it before, why
is now different?"
"Because you have a witness," I tried not to be emphatic, but as soon as
the meaning of words dawned on me, I stopped. "You mean he's done this
to you before?"
She nodded and tears began to flow down her face. I took her in my arms
and held her tightly. "So report him. Stop him."
"I tried," her voice cracked and I could hear the weariness in her
voice, the long suffering. "Martha Jo slapped me and my father told me
to stop telling such wicked lies. Only Bubba's wife believed me and
she was too afraid of him to say anything. The bravest thing that mouse
every did was to run away and hide well enough that he couldn't find
her."
I let her cry, breaking apart inside at what she must have had to
endure. "But this time, Susannah, you have a witness. I saw him raping
you. We don't go to Martha Jo. We go straight to the state troopers or
the sheriff or who ever is in charge out here."
"Sheriff Tomberlin, and he's Bubba's hunting partner."
Bleak. "But you still have a witness."
"A lesbian."
"They don't know that," I argued softly.
"Does anyone else know?" she asked, her voice getting hard at my
obtuseness.
"Well, sure, my friends..."
She interrupted me, "If anyone knows, the Sheriff will find them and use
them to prove you're a lesbian. Your friends know you're open about
your sexuality, they probably wouldn't hesitate to talk about with
someone claiming to be another friend."
I thought about it. "They would probably accept someone claiming to be
my friend, yeah. Everyone knows I'm bi."
"All they have to do is insinuate I'm a lesbian, too, and the jury'll
believe we're just man hating bitches who wanted to get back at old
Bubba who properly chastised us for our ungodly ways," she was getting
angry, not really at me, and I let her, she had the right to be angry at
someone for what she had been forced to submit to.
I'm no innocent, I don't believe that Perry Mason will solve the mystery
and real justice will be served. She was probably right. I was the
worst possible witness you could have in a small East Texas town. I was
a big city Yankee lesbo. If we were lucky the jury wouldn't hang the
two of us. "Okay," I whispered. "We don't tell anyone. Is there
anything I can do to help you?"
She threw her arms around me, surprising me by the strength in her
slender arms. "Make love to me?"
"Are you sure?" I was confused. The woman had just been raped,
wouldn't sex be the farthest thing she wanted now?
"Yes, make love to me" she whispered in my ear. "Take the taste of him
away right away and help me remember how good it can be!"
Without asking another question, I wrapped my arms around her, pulled
her onto my lap and began kissing her long and deep. I kissed her nose
and her eyelids, her cheeks and her chin. Her fierceness began to
evaporate as she relaxed into my loving attention. I gently nudged and
licked her ear, tracing the round shell rim with my tongue, then
tickling down behind it to her neck. I could feel the strong pulse in
her neck and the strength of her, the will to survive in spite of Life's
nasty tricks so turned me on, I virtually stood with her in my arms. I
later couldn't believe I could do that, she was no featherweight and I'm
no body builder. Maybe it was some left over adrenaline, but however it
happened, I was standing, holding her to me and I buried my face in her
chest, kissing her breasts and chest and neck with a fervor that I often
can not control. She wrapped her arms around my head, clutching me too
her and sighed deeply. I could feel the muscles in her relax as she
allowed herself to flow with the sensations my mouth was bringing to
her.
She pulled her Tshirt over her head, and I paused only long enough for
it to get out of my way, before I went back to sucking and licking those
delicious tiny breasts, giving my attention to first one and then the
other. She continued to clutch me to her as though she wanted me to
burrow inside and lick her clean inside, too. I would have gladly
obliged her. She giggled happily and I pulled away long enough to see
what had tickled her. She was looking upward through my screened roof
at the leafy branches and the night sky that flickered between them.
Looking at her in that pale faint moonlight, for that moment framed with
the trees and stars above her head, she was the most beautiful woman in
the world. I felt like I do after reading a wonderful book or hearing
magnificent music. Inspired, filled, full of life. I knelt and
lowered her to my sleeping bag, and unfastened her jeans. She raised
her hips to help me slip them from her, her eyes watching me intensely.
Her panties were ripped and had cut into her thigh. I pulled the
tattered remains off and kissed and gently licked the abrasions Bubba
had raised when he ripped them from her. One particularly bad one ran
along the cress between leg and crotch and as I licked, I tickled my way
across to her outer lips, and licked around them them, teasing her pale
pubic hair and rubbing warm against her clit. Her vagina smelled sweety
and bitter like Bubba smelled and I started licking her clean, cleansing
her of him. She clutched my head with her hands and moaned softly as I
probed and licked deeper and deeper, my tongue finally reaching her
cervix. Her juices slowly began to flowing coating my tongue and
finishing removing his scent with their sweet muskiness. I ate and
drank of her like I was the that starving woman we had teased each other
about. Like she was the only thing that could keep me alive. If I
could have, I would have crawled up inside her and loved her with my
entire body. I wanted to give her my all, she deserved. She wanted it,
and I wanted to give it to her.
When she came, it wasn't like skyrockets and moans. Her breath caught,
her body froze and I sensed rather than felt the joyful spasms that
flowed through her.
When she sighed back into the pillows, I kept right on licking and
sucking.
"Come here," she whispered. I ignored her and licked her juice from her
as drop by drop, it dripped free from the wonderful inner heart inside
her.
"Come here," she moaned. "You're making me crazy!"
I ignored her.
"Come--" her voice caught as another orgasm began to flow through her.
I didn't stop loving her sweetness until she cried for mercy after the
third one.
Bubba was still out cold when I went with her back to her tent to get
her bag which she'd told me she had never unpacked, forced to come home
for this holiday by her father or face having what aid he was giving for
her college education cut off. We took her bag and I got in her car to
ride with her as far as the park gate. We parked in the tiny deserted
parking lot and I took her face in my hands and kissed her deeply.
"I wish I could have taken you to the airport," I whispered.
"No, it's probably best you can't. I'd get nervous," she looked down at
her lap. "Besides if I spent anymore time with you I'd probably say
something stupid like 'when are you coming to California'?"
"Not for 2 years." I replied honestly.
She laughed. "Why two years?"
"You know those teenagers I was with?"
She nodded.
"Well, the cute brunette is a friend of mine and she's planning on going
to UCLA in 2 years. She's already asked me to go with her and help her
settle in."
"Two years," Sally mused. "I'll be in going to grad school this summer,
and I'm going to Harvard. They offered me a nice assistant ship. My
dad'll never be able to blackmail me back here again."
"Ask me if I'm planning a trip near Boston."
"Are you?" she laughed.
"This summer," I reached out and took her hand and held in mine,
stroking her lifeline with my thumb. "I really do come from Yankees and
I'm going to visit my Grandmother this summer."
"She lives in Boston?" she asked surprised and hopefully.
"No, upstate New York," her face fell with my words, and I cupped her
pretty face. "But New England isn't like Texas. Every place is within a
matter of hours in New England. Would you like me to visit you?"
"Would you?" Susannah asked, her face alit in the pre-dawn glow.
"O Susannah," I laughed. "I'll be there with bells on."
"That sounds intriguing," she smiled, kissing me. "How will I get you
my address?"
I got her to give me a scrap of paper and a pen and I wrote two phone
numbers on it. "You have two phone numbers? Is one your work?
"No," I grinned. "It's for if you ever get a computer and modem."
"Why?"
"It's the number to the Blues Cafe, my CBS!" I joked.
She kissed me again. "You mean your BBS."
Getting lost in her sweet kisses, I merely mumbled "Whatever."
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