Author's Comment: My apologies for the length. I couldn't find a way to break it up.
With the key in the lock, Sydney gave me another instruction, "When we get inside, I want you to get undressed!
Fast!
"
Once inside, she slammed the door behind her and growled, "
Now!
" She dropped her bag and stared at me. "Well?" she demanded.
It suddenly became clear to me that Sydney had not been fleeing from all those horny, drunken farm boys and truck drivers in the bar. In fact, if I was reading the situation correctly, she was thoroughly and completely aroused. I began to unfasten my pants.
"Strip! Now!" she screeched. She flung her blouse off and reached for the little zipper on her skirt.
I sped up shedding clothes at her bark. Sitting on the foot of the bed after kicking off my shoes, I looked up toward Sydney at the very moment she dropped her skirt. It took a minute of dumbfounded staring before it dawned on me just what I was seeing. The front of Sydney's white cotton panties was dark and glistening with dampness. At first, I thought she had peed herself, but then I saw the hungry, lust-crazed, almost demonic look in her eyes and knew without a doubt that I was the poor, unfortunate soul who had reason to fear for his life. Sydney was coming for
me
! What I had at first mistaken for a 'bladder control' problem was really a 'lust control' issue. I had never seen a female so damp and aroused in my life. She advanced toward me slowly and I found myself withdrawing, scooting my way backward up the bed until I was in the center of it.
Sydney climbed right up on the bed in pursuit of me still clad in those cheap sneakers, granny-panties and stockings. Though she wasn't tall at all, I still had to look up at her. My next shock came when she stood straddling me and pushed her dowdy panties down to her knees. Money, lots of it, tumbled out. There were even ten-dollar bills pasted to her pubic hair from all the sweet lust honey oozing out of her. Sydney's surprises just kept on coming.
"Tommy never,
ever
liked eating my pussy, Mr. Torby. He always claimed I was too wet. I want you to eat my pussy, Mr. Torby. I
need
for you to eat my pussy...
Oh-h-h!
"
Sydney didn't say any of this in the form of a polite request. It was, for her in this moment, a primal need. Fortunately for us both, I dearly loved swimming upstream in a warm sweet sea of pussy. The taste, the smell of a woman in lust, even the sensation of moist nether lips spreading, unfolding over my nose and mouth did things to me that were almost sinful.
The bills began to peel away from her pubic hair at this point and I discovered yet another of Sydney's surprises. To my delight, the entire thick patch of her pubic hair had been dyed the same blue as the streaks on her head. I stared at all those glistening, thick cotton-candy blue curls inching nearer and nearer to my face and inhaled deeply. Heavenly is the only word I can use to describe the fragrance of Sydney's sweet blue rose garden.
Now, I know more than a dozen men's hands had already roamed through her little garden, but I didn't care. I was getting drunk on the glorious feminine fragrance now inches from my face. Sydney placed the heel of her hand on my forehead and pushed. In the same instant as I was falling backward, she leaned in, braced her other hand on the headboard and settled down on her knees. She was now straddling my face.
"I
need
for you to eat my pussy now!" she seethed. She was eyeing me, gazing down between her legs into my eyes intently now, as if I were her prey.
"Mumph!" I gurgled. Sydney's pussy had me trapped. She squirmed her bottom, nestling in closer, tighter upon my face like a mother hen settling down upon her nest of eggs.
I was drowning! Sydney's pussy was flowing like a river now. I could hear her cuntlips making squishing sounds as she slithered and shimmied her pussy into position over my nose and mouth. All the nectar from her lust and excitement began to bathe me, soaking me from forehead to neck. Strangely, I managed to keep my wits -- and my breath -- about me. I discovered that if I tipped my head forward, then backward against her opening I could free my mouth long enough to capture a quick breath of air with each bob and tip of my face in her opening. That was good enough for me.
"Tommy doesn't eat my pussy because... he says I'm...
too
wet!" the young lady assaulting me with her twat called out from above. She was already showing signs of being deeply distracted.
"I'm not too
wet
... am I, Mr. Torby?" she asked, then grunted out a heartfelt, "Ung!" as if to answer her own question.
"That's it, Mr.... Torby!... Play with my clit too, if you like!"
I did like!
I had been able to shift my position slightly against that sweet, warm opening of hers. My mouth and tongue were able now to work a bit of magic between the tender folds of her lips. My nose was now a little farther north and bumping against her marvelous, swollen clit. Her clit was big and solid like a sweet,, warm brass doorknocker, and I was rapping frantically at her front door. By twisting from side to side with my entire head now I was able to hit every single sensitive inch that I knew about on a woman down there.
Just as I was getting deeply -- and I do mean
deeply
-- into the matter of satisfying this young lady impaled on my face, I began to feel my tongue striking something out of place and sharp-edged hidden inside her. It seemed to be fixed and unmovable. I slipped two fingers into her soupy cavern to explore. A moment later I extracted what turned out to be a very soggy, worn twenty-dollar bill. Too busy and trapped to examine it, I assumed it was a leftover gift from one of her bar patrons, so I tossed it aside and dove back into the warm sweet waters of Sydney's swimming pool.
Sydney seemed to appreciate my work. She let out a series of whimpers that rose gradually until she was squealing out with a galloping string of high-pitched yips. Her whole body shook with them for more than a minute as I worked at her little quim. Her lust-fluids seeped over my face, down my chin and her pussy made lewd, delicious squishing sounds as I rolled my face from side-to-side, eagerly swimming my way through every one of her orgasms.
When Sydney had endured all the pleasure I could give her for the moment, she slumped forward, her forehead resting against the cheap headboard of the bed and gasped for breath. I, however had a painfully throbbing hardon that had, as yet not received the attention I knew it deserved. I drew my head out from beneath that wondrous fountain of lust of hers, sat up on the bed and turned to admire Sydney's tight, round little bottom as she panted and shivered, recovering slowly from all that I had just put her through.
"You," I began, and then paused to swipe the lust-honey from my lips and nose before adding, "Are
