We sang it together: "Key lime pie, her key lime pie." And I added, "Mmmm, mmmm, good."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah, I love the stuff. Both kinds. Actually, the supermarket I shop at makes a great key lime pie. I'll have some for you next time, if you'll let me have a taste right now."
"Seriously?"
"You know how you said you love the creamy filling? I'm the same way, from the other perspective, that is."
We stared at each other for a moment as if contemplating a common interest. Then she said, "Go for it."
I didn't hesitate, I dove right in. My eyes had been riveted to her steamy valley, overflowing with girl juice from her much-needed O. She'd probably been wet for hours, since her escapade at work, and the scent of raw sex and desire was in the air, making my mouth water. Sweet, succulent poontang has always been my weakness. I remember my early experiences with my girlfriend in high school, playing in the dark and damp, in a basement rec room, in a backseat, until my fingers were pruney with her flavor. Taking it home with me like a badge of honor, not washing that hand so I could sniff her all night and fantasize about the next time.
I began lapping Tammy up like a cat at the only saucer of milk in town. I wanted every drop she could give me. I wanted to saturate my taste buds with it, to savor it. Then, after quenching my initial thirst, I slowed down and began concentrating on taking her to new heights. She seemed surprised by my initial assault, but as I began exploring all the folds and searching for the tender spots that stoked her desire, she settled back, opened up and made her pleasure my command.
I licked, lapped and probed, varying the pressure and the speed. I wasn't in a rush to make her cum, I just wanted to make sure she got there and we both enjoyed the journey along the way. Like her observation about men, some pussy is tasty, some a bit gamey. Hers was like Chesney sang about, and it was a delicacy I knew I could make a habit of.
I glanced up and her eyes were almost closed. She had her hands in my hair, and she began rocking her hips as I stirred her desire to a froth. I delved deep to sample the heat in her opening, coating my chin in her nectar. I was in pussy-eating heaven, my hands cupping her ass, drinking from the well of ecstasy.
She began sighing and whispering unintelligible declarations. Words, phrases, encouraging me on, and then, "Oh, fuck, yeah!"
I was circling her clit, teasing it, barely touching it. Tapping the tip of it, swirling on the sides. She seemed to like best when I dragged my tongue up the underside and gave a snaking lick at the quivering tip. I repeated the pattern faster until her moan turned into a throaty cry of delight. I added the coup de grace, sliding my middle finger into her hole, pressing up and massaging the upper wall where the G spot resides. She started bucking uncontrollably against my face and hand, and I just held on for the whole wild ride as her joy juice poured out until she couldn't take it any more and she clutched my face with her hands and thighs until I slowed my assault on her pussy.
She continued to make sounds deep in her throat as the waves subsided. I stayed where I was, taking in all the sensual delights of her sex on display. Inhaling her scent as I felt her insides pulse around my finger and watched cum ooze out of her inflamed, swollen pussy. When I looked up across her belly, her eyes were half-closed, her tongue tracing the soft contours of moist lips. She was cupping her breasts and idly pinching her very erect nipples. She looked at me, smiled slightly and said, "hmmmmmmm!!"
