Did you ever get hit in the middle of something important, or at least something very intense, and you just have to hum a song? I mean you get this melody from seemingly out of nowhere and it gets in your head so completely that you sway to the rhythm, you nod your head and finally you just begin humming out loud.
Sadly you can't choose the song that invades you, so you find yourself in line at the unemployment office surrounded by a bunch of biker types, you know, the tough guys with tattoos and you find yourself humming Barry Manilow. "Oh Mandy, you came and you gave without taking," or, "At the Copa... Copacabana." Or maybe at church and this time it's Nine Inch Nails, "...I want to fuck you like an animal."
Well, the last time it happened to me was worse than all that, much worse. I mean, here I was with an attractive woman whom I managed to get just drunk enough to come home with me, but not drunk enough that she couldn't walk, get undressed and climb into bed with me. Yes, it is a fine line there, but I somehow got the timing just right and I found myself comfortably situated between her legs.
Yes, we'd kissed some, her full red lips caught my eye earlier in the evening, that and her dark and very curly hair. Anyway, we kissed a bit and then I moved down to her breasts, which were small to begin with and with her on her back, they had flattened out to two thin pancakes, but each with a large and very firm blueberry on top.
Wanting something to knead, as I toyed with the nipples, my hands abandoned her breasts and slipped down to her ass, which gave me a soft handful to squeeze as I ran my lips, tongue and face over the firm, upright nipples.
Damn it! That's when it first started to happen. Just as I squeezed her firm ass tight with my hands and I let her left nipple tumble from my mouth and I moved to the other. Just as my lips grazed th slight mound of breast and opened to take the delicious nipple the song hit me: Pretenders, "Back on the Chain Gang."
It started slowly in my mind, the drum beat like the pick striking rock, again and again. Inappropriate? For sure, I mean a tribute song to a dead band member and here it's playing in my mind as I move down between a beautiful woman's legs. Beyond the deeper message in the lyrics, just the metaphor itself, a working chain gang, while I'm having sex with a beautiful woman, certain one that I am lucky even gave me a second glance.
Fighting to keep it out of my mind I concentrated on her body, letting my tongue leave a light trail of saliva down from her breasts, over her stomach, through the tight, kinky black pubic hair and down her fragrant slit. I gently pressed my tongue into her, delicately opening her lips and then working it into her opening. The wet tart taste jolted me a bit and I pushed my tongue deeper.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe she had sobered up a bit and she realized I wasn't the svelte, carved bit of manhood that her drunken haze made her think I was, but she had not been responding too much to my foreplay. She made the right moves and yes, her breathing heightened as I moved onto her nipples and then between her legs, but it seemed restrained. Hell, maybe she was shy, a bit embarrassed to cut loose in front of a man she just met.
Ignoring her reticence I continued, plunging my lips, tongue and face into her fragrant, tasty pussy. Working up and down her slit, I moved my tongue between her clit and cunt, moving at a slow, but deliberate pace, with a rhythm, a beat... a drum beat, like a pick hitting stone.
"Now were back in the fight
