Chapter 3
The rock star squeezed at Lydia Murcer's boobs, pressing with his fingertips hard enough to pucker the flesh.
He then began to move her tits, both of the girl's boobs simultaneously, in a series of slow sensuous circles.
He pushed her tits upward toward her collar bone, and then downward, toward the flat plane of her tummy and the slightly protruding base of her rib cage. The rock star pulled her tits apart.
He pulled her boobs so far apart that Lydia Murcer could feel the skin the cleavage between them stretching taut.
The rock star then pressed her tits together so that they were slightly flattened at their insides. The cleavage between her tits became extraordinarily long and deep.
The rock star loved the way that Lydia Murcer's nipples felt as they throbbed anxiously against the centers of his palms.
The rock star then released his palms from Lydia Murcer's deliciously firm knockers. He began to pinch at her huge nipples.
The rock star had one nipple between each thumb and forefinger.
He pinched.
Pulled.
Tweaked.
"Ummmmmmmm," Lydia Murcer said.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's hair was a very light shade of blonde. The pretty heiress was a platinum blonde, he decided.
The pretty heiress had the sort of hair that bleached to a near white hue after a summertime of exposure in the sunshine.
Her hair was long and straight.
It cascaded, like strings of gold, over her shoulders. When she was standing her long blonde hair fell low down her back, almost to the y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of her ass.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's hair was parted in the middle.
He could see that the part revealed a perfectly straight pink line of scalp. Her hair had been cut so that it fell down onto her forehead in several locks of downy bangs.
Her bangs were long.
They came almost down to her eyebrows.
She appeared-most cutely-as if she were peering out from beneath those bangs. The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer had a perfect peaches and cream complexion.
It was obvious to anyone who looked at Lydia Murcer that she was one of those lucky females who had never once suffered from a facial blemish.
Her skin was smooth.
Soft.
Clear.
The rock star could tell that the skin on the cheeks of Lydia Murcer's ass, for example, was every bit as smooth as it had been when she was just a little baby.
The pretty heiress's face was round. Expressive.
The rock star could see that her eyebrows and her eyelashes were every bit as light as the hair that grew from her pink scalp.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's eyebrows were plucked so that they were narrow. Narrow and femininely angular.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's eyelashes were very long and curled upward sharply at the tip. He could see that Lydia Murcer's eyelashes did this in spite of the fact that she did not enhance that effect with mascara.
Her forehead was smooth and without creases.
There was a rosiness in Lydia Murcer's cheeks.
Apple cheeks.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's eyes were baby blue in hue. They twinkled merrily when she was happy-yet looked deep and somber during the rare times when Lydia Murcer was feeling blue.
He could see that her nose was not very big. It was a mere button.
The rock star kissed, smack, the tip of Lydia Murcer's button nose. He could see that the nose was turned up a little at the tip.
He could see that Lydia Murcer's mouth was not very large either, but that her lips were very full and most sensuous.
He could see that Lydia Murcer had what is known as a "pouting mouth."
Her lips were fleshy and looked puffy. The girl's lips looked as if she had been chewing them maybe a little to redden them.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's lips were as red as a pair of cherries in spite of the fact that she was not wearing any lipstick.
The pretty heiress tended to hold her lips parted at all times, and slightly puckered.
It had been said many times, and not without more than an element of truth, that Lydia Murcer was walking though life looking as if she needed to be kissed desperately.
How sad that she had waited so long to try the sweet oral caress of mutual pleasure with a hunky, hunky man.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white. They had grown in naturally. The pretty heiress had never needed to wear braces on her teeth or anything like that.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's ears were small. He thought that Lydia Murcer's ears were shaped like shells.
Sea shells.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's neck was long. He thought that her neck looked like that of a swan. The pretty heiress's neck reminded Sandy Whitson of the Hollywood movie actress, what was her name? Audrey Hepburn, that's it.
The rock star still could not get over the size of the girl's tits. She looked as if she had melons attached to her chest.
She was so little.
Her tits were so big!
The rock star was astounded.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's tits were so large that they would have looked huge even if they had grown upon the chest of a MUCH LARGER female.
Her tits were not only big but they were firm. They were full with youth.
The pretty heiress's boobs, Sandy Whitson felt, were firm and supple simultaneously-a most delicious combination, for sure.
They rested high on Lydia Murcer's chest.
Pert.
Perky.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW FUCKING HOT I AM!" she hollered.
"You are going to get hotter before I am through with you."
"I know."
"Seethe."
"I am seething."
"Boil."
"My cunt is boiling."
"Is your honey pot boiling over."
"YES."
"Good."
"I am writhing," Lydia Murcer said.
"I see that," Sandy Whitson said.
"I need more," Lydia Murcer said.
"More pleasure?" Sandy Whitson said.
"More everything," Lydia Murcer said.
"You got it baby," Sandy Whitson said.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's tits were rounded at their bottoms and sloped at their tops. Yummy.
He could see that her tits were shaped so that the nipples pointed slightly upward when she was standing.
The rock star could not help but notice that, when the girl was standing or sitting up, she maintained perfect posture.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer walked and moved in general as if she were a recent graduate of a finishing school.
She never slouched.
Her shoulders were back.
She held her tits high.
She held her tits as if she were proud of them-as she was! The rock star could see that her nipples were also quite big.
He could see that her nipples were the size of silver dollars, such as those that were used in the one-armed bandits in the gambling casinos along the Boardwalk in Atlantic City, New Jersey.
Now her nipples were big up and down as well as from side to side because of the way Sandy Whitson had stimulated them with his tongue.
His lips.
His teeth.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer was VERY narrow through the waist. The truth of the matter was that, just below Lydia Murcer's belly button, she measured only twenty-two inches around.
The pretty heiress felt EXTREMELY diminutive beside the man, even smaller than she usually felt, and that was saying something because Lydia Murcer was going through life considering herself a tiny person.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer was round through the hips. He could see that she had a near-perfect hourglass figure.
34.
22.
34.
Sublime!
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's hips were rounded both at the sides and at the rear. He imagined that there were those in the world who would have said that Lydia Murcer's finest feature was her sweet, teenaged ass. Oh, yeah!
This, in spite of the mammoth size of Lydia Murcer's mammaries.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW FUCKING HOT I AM GETTING, OHHHHHHHH!"
The rock star could see that her legs were femininely shapely.
"OHHHHHHHH, OHHHHHHHHH, MY PUSSY IS READY TO EXPLODE!"
The pretty heiress's legs were not long, but they were super-sexy!
"OHHHHHHHHHHH, I AM FILLED, FILLED WITH SEXUAL FRUSTRATION!"
The pretty heiress's thighs tapered perfect from her hips to her knees. The pretty heiress's knees were unscarred, which she thought was pretty amazing, take into consideration the amount of roller-skating she had done as a small child upon the cracked sidewalks of her neighborhood. Her knees were unmarked.
The rock star could see that her shins were flat. Smooth.
Her calves were rounded, without being overly muscled. Nice.
Her ankles were trim, finely turned, and her feet were dainty.
She looked great in high heels and maybe a miniskirt of shorts. Of course, Lydia Murcer looked damn fine in the buff also, Sandy Whitson noticed masculinely-observantly.
He could see that her toes were chubby and cute and all very close to the same length, including her big toes.
He could see that her toes were pink and that she had a way of curling them under whenever she was sexually aroused.
At that moment, as Sandy Whitson pleasured her with his hands and with his mouth, Lydia Murcer's toes were curled under so tightly that they looked as if they were attempting desperately to clasp at the smooth balls of Lydia Murcer's dainty feet.
Her hands were delicate and feminine.
Her fingers were probably or a normal length, but they looked long because of her fingernails.
The pretty heiress was the sort of person who paid a lot of attention to her manicure. She behaved-very immaturely-as if a tragedy had just occurred, as if World War Three had just busted out all over, during those rare times after she actually broke a fingernail.
He could see that her nails were very long and had been filled carefully so that they were all precisely the same length.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's fingernails had been filed carefully so that all ten of them had a common curve to their tips.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's fingernails were painted a deep red color-painted with a crimson polish.
The pretty heiress always kept her fingernails, her fine, fine, fingernails, scarlet in hue, because she correctly assumed that this color went very well with her perfect peaches and cream complexion.
The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer had VERY little body hair. With the exception of the hair on her head, Lydia Murcer was practically bald all over, the man saw. The rock star liked what he saw. VERY MUCH!
The rock star could see that there was not even very much hair in between Lydia Murcer's legs. The pretty heiress knew this.
She was embarrassed.
She hoped he would not mention it.
The pretty heiress had known, from showering with other females in gym class after school, that most girls her age had inverted triangles of hair growing above their pussy slashes, completely covering their mounds. The truth of the matter was that girls her age were supposed to have BUSHES.
The pretty heiress knew that most girls had hair growing thickly around the outer edges of their pink vulvas.
The pretty heiress knew that most girls even had hair growing outward onto the insides of their creamy thighs.
The pretty heiress knew that most girls had to shave or wax extra before they could wear bikinis in the summertime.
The pretty heiress knew that most girls even had hair growing below their poontang's, down by their ASSHOLES!
The pretty heiress knew that some girls had hair growing up and down the cleavage between their feminine buttocks.
But Lydia Murcer had none of this. She merely had two tiny locks of light blonde hair growing down there.
She had hair growing just above and to the sides of her pussy slit, above and to the sides of her clitoral-foreskin.
The hair that did grow down there was so light that it was invisible when viewed in dim, indirect illumination.
The hair that grew between Lydia Murcer's legs covered less than a third of her feminine pubic-mound!
The pretty heiress had no hair-none-whatsoever growing along the outsides of her vulva, around those lips, so engorged!
The pretty heiress had no hair growing in the cleavage between her creamy and firm buttocks.
Not even around her ass-hole.
The pretty heiress's ass-hole was completely bald, a bald pink asterisk, the first like it that Sandy Whitson had seen, with the exception of those he had seen shaved.
The rock star kissed her belly.
Her loins.
Her abdomen.
He kissed her feet.
Sucked her toes.
The rock star crawled between her legs and rubbed her thighs with his fingertips. "I can smell your cunt."
"Do you like what you smell."
"I love what I smell."
"What do I smell like."
"You smell like a sexual animal."
"Oooooooh, what a sexy response."
"You look like a sexual animal."
"Keep talking!"
"I can see your pussy dripping."
"What does it look like."
"Pearl-drops are oozing from the gash."
"Can you see my cunt throbbing."
"Oh yes."
"I am going to die unless you touch it," the girl said.
"Soon I will touch your pussy, very soon," the man said.
The rock star lifted Lydia Murcer's shapely legs one at a time.
"What are you doing that for?" the blonde questioned.
"I want to lick you on an EXTREMELY sensitive spot!"
"Ummmmmmmm, I think that sounds like a good idea!"
"I am going to lick the backs of your knees," he exclaimed.
The rock star knew Lydia Murcer's skin at that spot was hypersensitive.
"Ummmmmmmm, that is going to feel so good," she exclaimed.
The rock star knew her skin there was going to be supererogenous.
"MY CLIT FEELS MORE THAN EVER LIKE IT WILL BURST!"
"Shhhhhhhhhhh, you must learn all about personal relaxation."
The rock star flicked his tongue at the backs of Lydia Murcer's knees.
"Ummmmmmmmm, ummmmmmmmm, ummmmmmmm," she screamed.
"Now I want you to lift both of your gams simultaneously!"
"Why?"
"I want to be able to get at your ass with my mouth, baby."
"Okay."
The pretty heiress lifted her legs and pointed her toes at the ceiling. "That's good."
For a moment Lydia Murcer was making a perfect "vee" with her legs.
"So precious," Sandy Whitson said.
The pretty heiress then tucked her knees back toward herchestand rolled herself into a tight ball.
"You might want to reach up and clasp yourself at the ankles," Sandy Whitson said.
"Why?"
"That will make it easier for you to stay in the tucked position," Sandy Whitson said. "Right."
The pretty heiress could feel the weight of her lower torso shifting.
"I can feel the whole crack of my ass getting wet and slippery with my lubrication," Lydia Murcer said.
"Yes, you are making a BIG wet spot down here," Sandy Whitson said.
"Ummmmmmmm, I hope you don't mind that I am SOAKING WET!"
"The wetter the better."
"Is that your motto?"
"One of them."
"My pussy is so wet that I think it would give off rainbows if the sun were shining on it," the girl said.
"Yes. I am so horny that I would rape the crack of dawn," Sandy Whitson quipped.
The pretty heiress could feel the weight of her lower body moving from the creamy cheeks of her firm yet supple as onto the small of her back.
Her ass cheeks rolled up.
Off the surface.
Off the wet spot.
Into Sandy Whitson's face.
The rock star began to kiss and lick and bite at the backs of Lydia Murcer's thighs. The pretty heiress began to whimper.
The rock star worked his mouth steadily downward toward the cheeks of Lydia Murcer's super-sweet ass. YUMMY!
"OWWWWWWWW, OWWWWWWW, MY ASS IS HOT AS A MOTHERFUCKER!"
"I can see your ass-hole throbbing berserkly now, ummmmmmmm."
"OHHHHHHHH, MY BUNG HOLE IS OPENING AND CLOSING RHYTHMICALLY!"
The rock star began to bite hard at the cheeks of the girl's ass.
"OWWWWWWWW, owwwwwwww, so GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!"
The rock star bit very hard at the cheeks of the girl's ass and she could feel pain, intrinsically sexual pain, once again blending with her pleasure.
She could feel Sandy Whitson biting her ass cheeks so hard that there was a frightening moment or two when she thought he was going to break the surface of the skin with those sharp choppers of his.
She could feel him biting so hard, for sure, that she KNEW he was making semi-circles of red teeth-marks in the cheeks of her ass.
Then Sandy Whitson kiss and licked delicately at those buttocks.
He pulled his mouth away and massaged her with his hands. The pretty heiress whimpered and moaned with her enjoyment.
"Ummmmmmmm, ummmmmmmm, soooooooo good!" she said.
"Oh, your ass flesh is so tasty."
"Are you going to pleasure the cheeks of my ass exclusively?"
"No, I am going to pleasure what is BETWEEN them as well."
"Ummmmmmmm, I was hoping you would say those words!"
The rock star kneaded the flesh of her ass as if he were preparing a pair of loaves of unrisen dough for a stint in the baker's oven.
He then pushed his fingertips inward, toward the cleavage between the cheeks of her ass, and as he did this his elbows pushed outward so that they were pointing in opposite directions.
The rock star pushed his fingertips inward curiously and boldly.
He pushed his fingers deeper and deeper into the cleavage between Lydia Murcer's fanny cakes, closer and closer to the completely bald, puckered pink ass-hole.
The rock star did not stop pushing his fingertips inward into the crack of Lydia Murcer's ass until the tips of his middle fingers were only a millimeter or two away from the mucous membranes, the hyper-sensitive mucous membranes at the mouth of Lydia Murcer's hot, puckered bung hole. Then he stopped.
The rock star curled his fingers at the knuckles and pressed his fingertips right into her ass flesh. So sensuous.
He then began to pull Lydia Murcer's ass cheeks apart. He did this very slowly and patiently.
The rock star was almost ceremonious as he opened up her ass cheeks. The rock star behaved as if he were parting the sections of a ripe and sacred fruit. So ripe.
He did not stop pulling Lydia Murcer's ass cheeks apart until they had been separated as far as they could go.
The pretty heiress could feel the skin in the crack of her ass stretching taut, so taut that it was threatening to tear on her.
The pretty heiress could tell that Sandy Whitson was holding her ass cheeks so far apart that even some of the puckers in her hot ass-hole were being smoothed by the pressure Sandy Whitson exerted.
The rock star then lowered his head and placed his chin precisely on the center of the wet spot the girl had made with her dripping poontang.
The rock star parted his lips and stuck out his tongue as far as he could possibly get it. He made his tongue pointy at the tip and placed the tip of his tongue precisely on the y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of Lydia Murcer's ass, which was on the bottom from Sandy Whitson's perspective as she tucked herself up into a ball. She was gripping at her own ankles so tightly at that deliciously sexy moment that each and every one of her knuckles had turned white. Her back teeth were grinding together. The rock star could see that Lydia Murcer's eyelashes were so long that they licked lightly at her high cheekbones each and every time she blinked-or winked, for that matter. Her eyes at that moment were closed so tightly that her eyelashes were CRUSHED against her high cheekbones. Her eyelids were wrinkled. There was a vein very close to the surface of her right temple that was throbbing visibly as if it were about to burst.
"My ass-hole need to be licked so bad!" Lydia Murcer said.
The rock star licked upward.
Slowly.
Patiently.
He took his time about it but he finally got his tongue to the spot where Lydia Murcer wanted it.
The pretty heiress could feel Sandy Whitson licking her bung hole.
"Lick it!" she screamed.
He hummed a happy tune.
"LICK IT CLEAN!" she screamed.
The man licked her bung hole until all of the flavor had been licked away.
"OHHHHHHHHH!"
The man then stiffened his tongue and shoved it right up inside her ass.
"YESSSSSSS!" she screamed.
The man pushed the tip of his tongue up past Lydia's sphincter.
"PUSH YOUR TONGUE RIGHT UP INTO MY COLON!" she said.
He did.
Then he pulled his tongue out of her ass-hole very slowly and Lydia began to whimper wildly once again with anticipation.
"LICK MY CUNT!"
"Okay."
She lowered her feet. The rock star pulled her pussy open. "Open my up!"
The rock star made her cunt look like a slab of raw meat. "Eat my cunt!"
The man placed his tongue between her cunt and her ass-hole.
"MUNCH MYTWAT!"
The man licked at the girl's outer lips and then her inner lips. He licked up and down the entire length of her pussy in between her inner and outer cunt lips. The man allowed the tip of his tongue to come very close to her clit without making direct contact with that fiery bulb.
Then he flicked the tip of his tongue lightly and quickly back and forth across the outermost edges of her inner labia. He worked his tongue in between her inner cunt lips. The man touched the girl's piss hole with the tip of his tongue. The rock star was touching the little girl directly below and less than an inch away from her clitoris.
He licked downward instead of upward as she wanted him to.
"Ohhhhhhh," the little girl said with her acute frustration.
The man hooked his tongue beneath the base of her pubic bone. "Please-"
The man tried to ram his tongue up inside her cunt just as he had rammed it up her ass. No good. There was a wall blocking the path.
Her cherry.
The man stretched her hymen taut against his tongue tip. "Deeper!" she said.
The tongue could go no deeper. The man withdrew. He knew that it was time to lick her clit. He used his right forefinger to peel her clitoral foreskin upward thus rendering her clitoris unadulteratedly naked and vulnerable to his oral caress.
He flicked his tongue at her clit.
Lydia began to come.
She thought she would pass out because of the extraordinary pleasure as the man pulled her magic trigger, popping her pussy rocks blissfully.
"Lick it!"
The girl could feel the explosions of pleasure starting at her clit and spreading outward from there. She could feel the pleasure spreading up into her femininely sloped loins. She could feel the pleasure sweeping up into her soft underbelly.
She could tell that the pleasure was not going to stop spreading until she was completely enveloped by that womanly bliss, by the ecstasy of what was, by far, the best orgasm she had ever had.
She felt her come in her fingertips.
In her toes.
He licked hard and fast.
She found that the come the rock star gave her with his flicking tongue, and then his sucking lips around her clit, was a thousand times better than anything she had experienced when diddling herself.