She opened her mouth and sucked my tongue into her mouth. Her tongue was an amazing thing, darting here and there, rolling along my own tongue like we were making love with only our mouths. She took my hands, never breaking the kiss and put them on her breasts. I sucked in a breath but it was just more of Janelle going into my lungs. More of her perfume that smelled like oranges and her cocktails and the fresh crazy taste of her.

“Bethany,” I said when the kiss broke. My lips felt bruised and swollen and I ran my tongue along my lower lip to test it. The tiny bite of pain went straight to my cunt and I clenched myself up entirely and tried to focus. I failed. The whole clenching thing only served to make me want her more.

“I thought so,” she said with that evasive hint of a south in her voice. “You look like a Bethany. You’re so pretty,” she drawled and dropped the dress. I hadn’t even noticed her peeling it off until it was sliding down her luscious peach hued curves to puddle blackly at her feet.

“I…um…I mean…”

“Cat got your tongue?” she said, stepping up to me like we would dance. “Or should I say…pussy got your tongue?“ She put one finger on each of my shoulders and pushed ever so gently.

I went to my knees like I had a piano on my back. Janelle arched her hips just slightly and I caught the scent of her. Deep and rich and womanly but with that sunshiny sweet smell behind it. Like dessert after a rich meal. I pushed my face against her smooth mound and let my lips trail along the crux of her thighs. She tried to rush me and I shook my head saying, “Nuh uh.”

But then Janelle dropped to the ground. Still a good head and shoulders taller than me, she pushed me to my back and straddled me. “It’s Janelle’s way or no way,” she whispered like the spoiled brat I was sure she was. Then she turned her ass to me and yanked at my busted up faded jeans even as she pushed her slick pussy against my lips.

I didn’t complain. I did what I had wanted to do all night. I sucked her swollen clit and let my lips trap her there over and over again, hanging on the edge of orgasm. She was worked up to begin with, now she ground against my face as I traced the seam of her flesh with the tip of my tongue.

When she finally won the battle with my jeans, she dove right in. No finesse, no preamble. Janelle feasted on me like she was starving and I was her last supper. Her tongue was everywhere, hot and somehow small compared to the rest of her. I couldn’t help it, even as I tried to be slow and romantic as I ate her, my hips bucked up to fuck her face.

“Oh, Miss Bethany, you don’t have any manners,” she laughed. Then two of her fingers slid into my weeping cunt and my whole sex spasmed. I was right there. So fast. Too fast. But it was good.

I had to one up her, she was being a total brat. I shoved three fingers into her and when her pussy seized around my finger and she mewled against my clit, sending the vibration through until I thought I would cry, I flexed against her G-Spot and she let go. She was so wet and tight around my fingers as I coaxed her through every contraction with my tongue.

“You cheat,” she sighed and slid another finger into me and then one into my ass. Her insistent little tongue danced and flicked until I would have walked to the ends of the earth to bring her an Alabama Slammer. When I came, I was laughing. A big giant laugh to go with her big boots and her big hair and her big personality.

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