Page 391 of S is for SEX

CHRISTY

I was rarely sober, but when I was, I felt like an absolute dim wit. Add a little alcohol, and my sense of everything sharpened. I became in tune with both my inner and outer self, and aware of all things around me. The more I drank, the more intelligent I became - up to a point. There was always a time where I needed to stop drinking, and generally I knew where that point was.

Generally.

“Shit, Beth, I feel great. I’m sorry if I was hard to work with, I felt awful. This headache I have had me feeling terrible. I just needed a few drinks to unwind. I’m good to go now,” I explained, sitting on the trunk of Beth’s car.

Standing beside her car, Beth smiled.

“You sure you don’t want a ride to your car?” she asked.

I wanna ride your mouth, you little pussy gobbler.

“No, I told him eleven. It’s ten fifty now. We got out early, so I want to just wait, maybe till eleven fifteen,” I explained, as I looked at my phone.

“Okay,” she responded sheepishly.

“So, what happened today with you at the bar?” she asked as she ran her hands through her red hair.

“Well, I ate some bad seafood, and puked. I got food poisoning or something….ended up in the hospital,” I answered, recalling the events of the day.

“That’s crazy,” she said as she threw her purse in through the car window.

“I know, right?” I took another drink from the bottle of vodka, and looked at Beth’s little round butt.

I handed Beth the bottle. She took a hamster sip, and handed it back to me. Using one of her tongues, she began to lick her lips. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to make a move and make it in the next few minutes before my Vietnamese letter “D” arrived.

I watched whichever of Beth’s tongues she was using slurp the droplet of vodka from her upper lip, and I gave my command.

“Beth, you’re going to lick my pussy until Dough gets here. Get in your car, lay the front seat back and get those tongues of yours ready,” I jumped off the trunk onto the parking lot and unbuttoned my pants.

Telling works so much better than asking.

“Do you want to disappoint me, Beth?” I barked. I read that in a book somewhere about submissive types, and it sounded like a good thing to say.

Are you going to disappoint me?

She shook her head, walked to the car, got in and laid the seat back.

I’ll need to thank that author as soon as I remember who he was. Fuck yes, a good tongue fucking and then my “D”. I’m on a roll.

I stuck my right hand into my pants and stuck my index finger into my already wet pussy. Telling Beth what to do made me so wet. Telling anyone what to do made me wet. With my left hand, I struggled to get Heather’s jeans down, and with my right index finger, I…

One.

I pulled my finger from my pants and stared at it. I rubbed it with my thumb, moistening my thumb. As I walked to the passenger seat, I reached back into my pants and pinched my clit between my finger and thumb. I leaned against the passenger door with my hand in my pants and rolled my clit between my finger and my…

Two.

Jesus, my pussy is so sensitive now.

I slid my index and middle finger inside my pussy and pushed them in as deep as I could. Jesus fucking Christmas, that feels soooooo good. I quickly and forcefully slid my fingers in and out twice, and pressed the tip of my thumb against my clit.

Three, Four, and a motherfucking leg-shaking Five…allatonce.

My knees buckled and I almost fell. I pulled my hand from my pants and held it in front of my face. Covered in cum, it glistened in the glow from the street lights. I suppose, ultimately, God put me in the position to make this bet, and get over my fears. God made me act dominant over these people. God makes them agree to these things. God gave me my pussy, and God gave me this hand. This magic hand.

God loves it when I have a leg shaker. He must.

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