In answer to a bit of 'moral' outrage as well as an equal number of requests from readers who don't wish to be left hanging, I have written this unplanned sequel. EgmontGrigor
FOUR
Ewan's dream of sliding over a huge breast on a wave of cum was infiltrated by a more pragmatic brain signal: the need to eat. As his return to full alterness gathered he identified the smell of bacon being cooked on an open fire out in the bush in outback Australia.
Cranking his eyelids apart, he saw a pair of naked tits dangling dangerously close to the fire, tits he'd licked and mauled the previous night in a gluttony of sex.
"Good morning, Mrs Australia," he greeted, unable to remember Bette Medway's name for the moment in the typical manner of a carnally driven male opportunist.
"Hi there...um," responded Bette brightly, not at all embarrassed by her lapse. "Nice sleep...er...Evan?"
"Ewan."
"Sorry, of course. If you shag me half silly it's only naturally I'll wake up half silly.
"Go have your pee and return and sink your fangs into this tucker. By the way, my name's Bette Medway in case you've forgotten."
"Nah, I never forget a lover's name."
"What was the name of the female you last shagged before me, Ewan?"
"That's easy but whoa there. I must duck off for a pee."
"Right."
Tucking into bacon, eggs and potato mash, Ewan decided to engage in meaningful conversation.
"What does your husband think about you ripping around Australia on your own and sleeping with other men?"
"Firstly, I don't go more than a day's drive from home, so he assumes I'm safe as I'm near home. Secondly, mind you own fucking business."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," said Ewan, beating flies to his last piece of cooling bacon. "I apologize if I offended you but I'm rather interested in the moral issues."
"I'm not offended you dickhead. I just said that to put you off in case you're engaging in idle small talk."
"I am genuinely interested."
"Really, are you genuine about anything Ewan?"
"I love my mum and dad. You say something insulting to me about them and you'll see how genuine I am about them."
"I'm also genuine in my feelings to my girlfriend Kate and I am also loyal to my boss at work and to the firm."
"But not loyal to this Kate."
"Of course I am. I care for her greatly and give her anything she wants badly enough and she'll be wanting me rather badly right now."
Bette looked at him with a thin smile, wiping her mouth and fingers with a paper napkin.
"Loyal to your Kate, eh? I suppose you discharged adherence to that concept by thinking it was her you were shagging last night instead of me?"
"Don't be absurd. You were totally in my mind, it was you I was shagging, and only you."
Bette chuckled.
"Well, perhaps it was; you certainly didn't lack enthusiasm and appeared to deposit everything you had!"
"Of course, and for your information Kate is aware that I will seek relief elsewhere if I am separated from her for more than a couple of days – I've discussed this with her."
"Oh, have you now. And she made a similar commitment?"
Ewan turned red.
"I see," said Bette. "She didn't, she chose to remain loyal."
"I object to that assumption. You are correct, she said she would not spread it about while I was away. But we discussed this like two mature adults and not in a confrontational manner nor with moralistic overtones that impinge on our right of choice."
Bette decided to ignore that sermon from the pulpit.
"Do you want more bacon – I want to build you up before we launch into our swan song in an hour or two?"
"No thanks, Bette. I'm fine, just this piece of bread and I'm done, though would like another coffee."
Bette put in a low punch.
"Your comment that you need to seek relief elsewhere is bullshit, absolute bullshit. You could use your hand instead of another women's mouth or vagina."
"It's my decision," Ewan said sullenly.
"I'm sorry," Bette said, pulling her hands above her head and yawning. "I've become rather too personal."
Bett's tits thrusting out like that caused Ewan's penis to stir.
"I'm thinking this guy is hankering for his breakfast," he said, holding his rising erection.
Bette grinned and cupping her breasts held them out to him.
"I said our swan song in an hour or two. There's no reason why we shouldn't practice for it."
"Grrrrrrrh," went Ewan, lunging at her.
"For fuck sake, don't push me in the fire," she yelled.
Although Bette is not a light woman, Ewan managed to scoop her up to take her to the safety of the blanket away from the fire.
They kissed passionately as if wanting to make amends for their rather abrasive discussion.
"How would you like it?"
"Slowly," Bette replied. "We've just had breakfast."
"A long and slow sixty-nine."
"Oh you clever boy. Roll on to your back."
FIVE
Like the brave solider he was, Ewan looked at the cunt that had been backed up nicely and was drooped just above his mouth. It was fringed in dried cum and smelt like the bottom of an empty barrel at a fish market – but hey he thought, most of that was a result of him.
He lifted his head and grunted, licked around a bit and then inserted his tongue, aware that it was not the sloppy place he'd wallowed in a few hours earlier but that would change once he went to work
Reaching up with a finger he made contact with the clit easily – easily because the good girl was full of beans, it being early morning and after some sleep she was lively ands on her hands and knees instead of sprawled over him like a beached porpoise.
Ewan resolved to be kind to her as she was a highly interfacing woman stuck way out in a region than geologically was semi-hospitable. Despite that, she was a tough nut and seemed to have adapted well.
Bette – why the fuck he couldn't remember her name earlier he'd never know, he'd always been good with four letter words. Bette was five letters but sounded like four or even three for that matter. Three – he never had trouble remembering tit.
Cheered up immensely now the morality crap was over-run in his mind by his latest thoughts, Ewan became more enthusiastic and could tell by the pressure on his dick being eaten half to death that Bette was appreciating his administrations.
As Bette had straddled Ewan, backing into the copybook position and lowering her head to get to work at her end; her nose warned her off and her eyes added to what her reliable snout had detected.
She giggled – snout! If any bloke referred to her nose as a snout she would have dropped him – the old 'one-two' that boxing people always go on about. Only hers would have been a knee to his balls and a solid chop to his throat learned in anti-rape training some years ago.
Gosh this Kiwi was good. He'd practically had her out on her feet – er, her back – last night, so much so that she hadn't bothered to take a quick wash in the lake or even clean her teeth, and her first desire on waking had been to get food into them and here they were, at it again, far too soon and she'd still not washed.
Poor Sam, if he came at her with pongy breath she'd send him off to the bathroom and she routinely had them showering as soon as they recovered after sex, which inevitably meant a single shower as her husband was usually into single shot sex.
Gritting her teeth she licked tentatively at the cock projecting her way which smelt like...like. Well here's a tester girl, what does this pit down here smell like? She finally settled for a workers' bus full of males with a handful of females with hygiene problems below their navel.
Yes, that was it! A rich aromatic blend of urine, dried cum, dried pussy juice, sweat and older stale body odor with an intensity a French perfumery would be proud of, once they got the blend rebalanced and the more hostile fragrances – which was all of them - masked and controlled.
She realized that Ewan's tongue was snaking into a similar unappetizing pit, the brave boy. Obviously he was a great Kiwi battler, as they say.
Soon Bette became aware he was attacking with greater relish; she stifled a grunt and sunk her mouth on to the shaft, washing it with fresh saliva as she progressed along its length.
Then with her fist jerking the column and her mouth massaging the helmet of his cock, Bette wondered what Kate was like. She guessed Kate would have a sweet face, long black hair, be very intelligent with evidence of motherly instinct, lovely legs and probably a little shy – the kind of girl guys know to bring home to show their mother. It's an instinct thing young men have.
She knew that Ewan would have been unable to resist a small essential – Kate would have big breasts.
Trying to picture Kate's sweet face and big tits made Bette shudder and she sent a wash over Ewan's face, the poor sod. She removed her mouth and fisted his dick furiously, slapping against the ridge of the helmet. He fired the first shot the sly bugger, without tensing or giving any warning in fact, catching her on the forehead and messing her hair, but that was a mess anyway.
Ewan then groaned and she obliged by slipped her mouth over the ejaculating head and cleaning him up as they went.
She sighed and rewarded the sod with greater togetherness by sinking her weight on to him.
Sighing again Bette looked up and saw something that made her smile.
Rolling off Ewan she whispered, "Sit up very slowly and quietly and look straight ahead."
Oh Christmas, thought Ewan, there's a colony of deadly spiders marching out way. Let's kill the fuckers.
He rose to his knees, ready to do battle but immediately relaxed. There in the stand of trees were a group of grey 'roos, silently watching them.
"Now, all we need is a croc and I'll know I'm in heartland Aussie," he whispered.
