The disclaimers: Every character who matters is at least 18. A work of fiction (more or less). Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental (for the most part).
Part 6 picks up on Thursday morning. This installment features a showdown with Jennifer, and a yachting trip that brings new challenges.
~~~@~~~@~~~
~~~ WEDNESDAY EVENING ~~~
"You're a dead man in the morning," she mumbled, half asleep.
"Promises, promises."
I tried not to think about how all of this would be over in a few days. I fell asleep stroking her hair while Spring Peaches filled my soul. Life couldn't get any better.
~~~ THURSDAY ~~~
I half woke up with the dawn sun just barely poking over the horizon. Hayleigh did her best to slip out of bed without waking me, and I didn't want to let on that I was awake. I heard her rustling about in the bathroom and a toilet flush, but she didn't come out right away. When she did, she was barely visible in the still-darkened room as she padded quietly back to the bed.
I hoped that she would get back in to resume our snuggling, but instead I felt her climbing over my chest. Her calves bracketed my head and the tops of her delicate ankles settled on my collarbones. She grasped the bed's heavy wooden headboard to steady herself, then moved her hips downward so that her damp pussy pressed against my chin. My nose filled with an intoxicating blend of strawberries and Hayleigh's delightful natural scent.
"Good morning!" she cooed. "My kitty is upset with us for depriving her last night. You're going to help me make it up to her."
I grasped a handful of Hayleigh's magnificently squeezable buns in both hands and guided her forward. Her outer lips splayed out when my tongue penetrated, then separated, her delicate inner lips. Her breathing kicked up a notch as I held her in place and probed at her opening. Fluid leaked in a slow trickle, running down the sides of my jaw and onto the pillow beneath my head. I savored the taste of her, mildly acidic with a tinge of strawberries. I wanted more. A lot more.
My tongue easily found her entrance. I alternated between worming my tongue inside and nibbling on her swollen inner lips. Above me her head hung down between outstretched arms. Her breaths came in fits and stutters now, and her wetness soaked into my pillow, wetting my neck. It crossed my mind that housekeeping would notice the wet pillow, which would endlessly embarrass Hayleigh. A twisted part of me wanted them to know.
"Hang on a second," I said to the lolling face above me.
Hayleigh's half-closed eyes opened fully. "Whoo--I'm barely hanging on now!" She was almost out of breath, panting like she had run a marathon.
"Just need to make an adjustment." I took a couple of the towels that were still on the bed unused from the night before and placed them under my head and neck, over the sopped pillow. That pillow owed me for saving it from complete ruination.
I resumed tongue-probing all around Hayleigh's warm, squishy opening. But instead of cupping her buns like I did before, I reached around behind her leg and worked a finger into her pussy while my tongue circled her engorged button. I could faintly feel it pulse against my tongue, keeping time with her heartbeat. She was dripping steadily now, and her jerking thighs hinted that she was on the trembling edge of letting loose another flood. Close enough that she tried to warn me off.
"Baby, better stop before I drown you. Oh, fucking hell that feels good!"
She tried to lift away, but she really didn't want me to stop. And she was going to have to make me stop. I wanted to make her explode, to cry out. I was on a mission. I was game for anything that would fry her brain. My free arm grasped around the back of her hips to hold her pussy to my face. She relented and let her lips splay around my mouth. That extra few inches allowed my finger to reach her G-spot. It felt more swollen and spongier than it had before. I curled my fingers into it while lashing the tip of her erect clit with the tip of my tongue. That was game, set, and match. Her thighs slammed forcefully against the sides of my head, and she alternated between growls and little shrieks as liquid poured out of her like tapwater. My fingers massaged her rough patch of joy until little jets of fluid bathed me face. After about the fourth spurt she forced herself out of my grasp and flopped down on the bed, twitching. I felt like the king of all Creation.
"Jesus, you're gonna kill me!" she sputtered breathlessly, "That's the second time you've short-circuited my brain!"
"I'm just experimenting and learning as I go."
"You've learned too damn much already!"
"That's what you get for showing me how your girl bits work. Great lessons, by the way. Very helpful."
She playfully swatted my arm, then rose slowly to crawl over to me. She hovered above me on all fours, her thick blonde hair falling loosely to gather on my face and shoulders. She pressed her lips to mine, insistent and hungry. Her tongue parted my lips and found mine. She wasn't nearly done with me, bless her.
"I can taste myself on you. You're soaked and so are these towels! Sure you didn't mind?"
"Remember when I was in your mouth, and you swallowed it all? Did you mind that?"
"No, I loved it! But that's different." Her brow furrowed. She was rethinking. "OK, maybe it isn't different, exactly. But you don't make a sopping mess of me or the bed or anything."
"That's only because I've been inside you when I, you know."
She laughed coarsely. "When you 'you know'? You mean when you cum? When you jizz? Bust a nut? Get your rocks off? Paint my tonsils?"
I wasn't sure if she was making fun of me or not. Uncertainty must have shown on my face.
"I'm sorry, Tom, I'm only being silly. I didn't know that kind of language bothered you."
"It doesn't. I'm not used to talking like that with a girl because, well, someone we both know didn't like it when I did, and she never talked like that with me. Said it was crude. And gross."
