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Murmuring prayers to the goddess between moans and gasps, my hands cling to his shoulders, glide over his back, knot in his hair. He roams my body, using his hands and mouth as his guide. Over the mounds of my breasts, round the curves of my hips. Down the hollow of my throat, along the lines of my legs. He finds his way back to my mouth and once again greets it with a kiss. A kiss the angels themselves would weep for. Passion, desire, all the things driving his mortal body are in that kiss. . I reached up and grabbed her hips and turned her slightly from side to side as she painted my whole body from chin down in her pee. “Oh, I cannot believe you are making me do this!!!” she just kept muttering, but she kept going and going. Finally her stream became a trickle. Then it stopped and she pushed a few last squirts out onto my fingers as I moved them into her wide open sex. She was nearly as wet inside as I was outside! She moaned and told me to stop but made absolutely no effort to. Lefty would never be the same again, I was sure he would be permanently wrenched out of place for the rest of his natural life. Sure, I could poke a hole through him and he was fine, resilient even, but this was Holocaust-level nipple death! ‘Hey, don’t complain! After all, this is the closest to getting any from anyone that you’ve come to in the past month, Dick wad!’ She did have a mouth on her, that’s for damned sure. ‘At least I don’t resort to fucking myself instead of my skinny assed,. I shuddered, anticipating the wicked, sensual delight of being with a woman, to hold her breasts—I loved squeezing my Double D’s—kiss her stomach, and to lick her pussy.Especially that.I loved tasting my own tart musk. After masturbating, I would always lick my fingers clean of my juices. And after a man has cum in my pussy, I had the salty treat to clean up, mixing both naughty flavors together. A hot shiver ran through my sixteen-year-old body.Was there ever a preacher’s daughter more sinful.
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