Slut Lesbian Action

Slapslit and tug-the-titty.
Sadie Mae thought it was rather silly.
Wasn't much to get all worked up about.
About that.
Fillies frisking about.
"I'll have another," Sadie Mae said brightly, tossing the empty beer bottle up into the air. She noted the light friction of Mercedes's painted fingernails near the lower lobe of her tail.
Just underneath the ragged fringe of Sadie Mae's cutoff shortshorts.
At the moment, Sadie Mae was oblivious to the livid presence of the two jock dudes who had been gleefully ascrew upon Mercedes for the last hour or two before Sadie Mae had stuck her nose in.
It was perhaps unseemly for the three of them to have been reaming and creaming right here in Uncle Roy's Roadhouse.
They could easily have rented one of the bun­galows. That was precisely the sort of assignation the accommodations were meant for.
But there was something to be said for taking it when it hit you.
The spontaneity.
Disinhibition.
Casual display of feeling.
Sadie Mae's mind was reeling.
She could not blame them at all for balling all over the place.
Especially Sadie Mae could not deny Randy and Bubba Buster their appetites. For Mercedes looked mighty fine lying there on the table.
Spread out like a snicksnack or a picnic barbecue. For the eyes a feast.
Pug-nosed nipples glazed over with wash of rutsweat and pebbles of come.
Ribs roasting below the boobs. The concave curve of Mercedes's turntum.
Yeasty quim brimming over.
Foaming.
Bubbling cream.
With a shudder, Sadie Mae realized she would like to have some.
Ream her.
Then suck up her asshole. This would be proper lesbian action. The type these sluts had both wanted deep down for a while.
Was it simply an internal image of Sadie Mae's full blooded yet stifled lust?
Or was she justly aroused?
Would she act it out?
Sadie Mae for the moment stood there drinking from a new bottle of beer.
As Mercedes looked queerly up underneath the hem of Sadie Mae's shortshorts.
And peered with a calculated leer—obviously cocking her head—up Sadie Mae's lownecked tit-clinching halter-top teeshirt.
As if Mercedes were flirting.
Feeling up Sadie Mae with her peepers.
And—Sadie Mae thought blindly, though she was trying desperately not to think at all—Sadie Mae did not mind Mercedes's look.
Not at all.
She enjoyed it. The lesbian action was turning her on in a big way.
The thought.
But not particularly the touch.
Not too much.
Enough was enough.
But Sadie Mae was tough.
She would rough it out.
Mercedes's fingers lingered gingerly upon Sadie Mae's bare waist as Buhba stabbed a cigarette into the side of Mercedes's twisted mouth) ips and Randy lit the stick up.
The boys were quietly joking. Poking their fingers into each other's chest and armpits as they sucked down hits of beer and smoke.
As if waiting for something to happen between Mercedes and Sadie Mae.
As if they knew something would and they were enjoying the suspense.
Sadie Mae saw that as innocence. She might have the wildest of dreams and fantasies.
But she didn't have to act them out.
Not here.
In evidence of Sadie Mae's commitment to keeping herself neat emotionally, she told herself she felt nothing at all for any of this crowd.
Crinkled her forehead.
She took Mercedes's wrist and led her up into her navel.
Was she actually doing this?
Why was she doing this?
Sadie Mae's skin flushed in the face and down her neck.
Pinkness piqued her shoulders and her quim began to smolder.
Her reaction was tame—Sadie Mae thought. Not like some other's Sadie Mae had seen in various locker rooms, dormitories, and latrines.
Sisterly activity.
All in the family of woman.
Gal pals pussying around.
Of course, sometimes when the girls got to fucking around it was almost as if they were really getting down.
Sure—some dollbabies Sadie Mae had come across had definite proclivities.
The way such dames went for pussy was with a withering passion that was perhaps hotter than their flame for cock.
Those girls would snot up each other's box. Shove their fingers wedged together with their thumbs and run them up each other's innards to make each other come.
Phalanges flickering across and within each other's hides.
Fidgeting digits in the backside, cuntcrack, up the back from the spine to the nape of the neck. So hot and wet.
Punching the pussy.
Fistfucking fanny.
Oral intercourse digitally.
There was the smooching of cuntlips some girls called the bitchkiss.
Then the flatfuck wherein females frictioned their entire hotbods against each other. When you pressed the pussy apart and rubbed it into clit and quim it was known as piatypussing.
And Sadie Mae viewed with amusement the stories about when some damsels got it in. Fucked with their clitorises.
If a clir hard-on was thick enough. If when engorged the nattering pip pricked up and out from the pubic pout—
You could screw with it.
Stick the clitoris between the labia and fuck with it.
Called it cuking—when you could do it.
And even called it that when you just played at it and really couldn't get the little clitnib in anything. Just rubbed it real fast.
Against another chick's ass.
Or you could cuke in the face—that was a variation of sistersucking. Or buck your cunny on their back while playing cowgirls.
Sadie Mae had heard tell of—or had imagined on her own—some nifty switches.
Bitches whipping each other with their long sweat-sweetened braided hair.                  v
Running their tresses through their teeth. Pres­sing strands up into each orifice and coming when yanked from quim and bum.
And the butch ones.
Tribades.
Babes who wore pitch-black metal-studded leather dildos and fucked each other in the bucket, cunt. Even blew each other.
Sadie Mae had overheard some haidbod college cuties talking about Sappho the poetess and her girls gagging down each other's goodies sometime back in ancient Greece.
Sadie Mae did not know if she herself qualified as a dyke.
It had never struck her as such.
But then, hitherto Sadie Mae had never actually done that much.
One thing she did know was that she had a hankering for a suck on Mercedes's cunt. And for her to suck hers.
"Okay now, Sadie Mae?" Randy said, hoisting another beer toward her.
Bubba Buster thumped his twanger dangerously near to the side of Sadie Mae's head. Legs spread wide and glistening.
Dicktip snickering.
Balls slung low.
"I gotta go?" Sadie Mae sighed.
She opened her legs wide.
"Stay, Sadie Mae," Mercedes brayed center stage, splayed across the table of the booth.
Her pubic mount was a frost of partially congealed cuntcome and prickjizz. Her engorged clitoris shone brightly.
Pusslips concealed by the raveled threads of her well-torn fuck-welted twat.
Sadie Mae was hot.
Spasms flashed round her assrim.
Simmered in her quim.
Shimmering cold and heat beat from Sadie Mae's clitmeat to the peaks of her tits. Desert dryness gripped her craw.
Then a gush of saliva inward over her gullet. Sadie Mae felt it coming.
"I gotta go. Now. Have to peepee."
Mercedes spoke boldly, coldly. As if dribbling the obvious to a sniveling idiot sibling, she snarled directly at Sadie Mae's snatch:
"You gotta pee, Sadie Mae?" Mercedes flared her nostrils mercilessly.
"Use me—"
"Pardon?" Sadie Mae spoke with a clit hard-on that spiked her up the spine to the back of her brain. "Mercedes, I thought you said—"
"Drench me."
Randy blurted:
"Jesus Fuckingchrist the third!"
Bubba blathered:                          v.
"My word!"
"Turn your cutoffs down, Sadie Mae," Mercedes cooed. "That's the way. Slide them down those lickable legs of yours."
Sadie Mae shot her head around.
"Now climb up on the table," Mercedes babbled. "With me."
Sadie Mae tentatively bit her lips. Knelt next to the stripped and glistening Mercedes.
"I can feel your bodyheat, Sadie Mae. Closer now. Crouch right over me."
Sadie Mae moved her eyes away from Mercedes's face. Ignored the porous gazes of Randy and Bubba sitting there watching with blazing hard-ons.
Down by the bungalows there was the glow of coals as the band members roasted up some feed. Sounds of automobile engines and squeals of girls.
The whores Sadie Mae's sister Sallie Anne had lined up for the <musical boys were arriving now.
The power of the imagery of fucksuckrut sur­rounding Sadie Mae blew through her ears. She didn't hear at first—
"Sadie Mae. I asked you to straddle my face. As if you were riding and I am the saddle. But please, whatever you do—don't touch me."

Sadie Mae did so.
"Watch it, babydoll," Mercedes bawled. "I don't want to get wet just yet."
Nostrils flared as Sadie Mae snorted. Blared snot from her snout.
She let it all hang out.
"Whoa!"
He Mae shimmied her ass from side to side.
' Vlfaeee!" Mercedes lowed. 'Tee hee hee. I can see Sadie Mae's aaaaassssshole!"
Sadie Mae churned her groin.
Her bladder burned.
"Let's go!"
Fizzle drizzled from her cuntfolds.
"Sadie Mae, I can see your peeeeehole too."
Trickling liquid weaseled down the insides of Sadie Mae's legs.
Draining to her kneecaps.
Seriating her thighs with urine. Spattering her calves with her own piss.
Mercedes kissed the air.
"Ulululululu."
Gargled Sadie Mae's drizzle.
Mercedes twirled her straightened hard-on tongue like a swizzle stick.
Shot her yip up.
Smacked Sadie Mae in the clit.
"Unh."
Rivulets of piss striped Mercedes's whitegirl neck.

Micturition fizzed as it spread over Mercedes's ultra-white shoulders.
Frothed down her back.
Sadie Mae's pizzle dashed down between Mer­cedes's boobs. Perking up the nippletips and filling the navel.
Mercedes bucked her bellybutton up from the table. Sadie Mae's drizzle sniped through the opening between Mercedes's cuntlips.
Writhing sideways once again, Mercedes's ran-dying backbone rubbed inside Sadie Mae's groin. Piss smarted up her asshole.
"Oh."
Sadie Mae chittered like a chimpanzee as she frittered with her clitoris.
Dampness of her forest.
Voracious activity of Mercedes's maw.
"Aaaaawn."
Sadie Mae sniffed the headiness* of the years of spilled liquor, spent cockcome and girljizz, oxidized fuckjuices that soaked through the furniture of the saloon.
She pissed and swooned.
The brew kept flowing from her barrel.
Mercedes had Sadie Mae flat out on the table now. Tugging her jugs.
Running her long sharp and painted fingernails down the outside of Sadie Mae's boobcage. Engaging Sadie Mae orally and digitally.

"High!"
Mercedes gnawed far and wide. From Sadie Mae's sweat-curled coif to her underside.
Hammered her choking maw into Sadie Mae's blowhole and ate her for an instant before poking her tongue in.
Piss blistered Mercedes's face as she chomped beneath Sadie Mae's buttocks.
"Yes."
Mercedes yanked her clenched yawp up from Sadie Mae's twat.
"Owl-Tufts of cuntfur stuck to the outsides of Mercedes's mouth.
She looked about.
"Hey, guys," Mercedes mouthed. "Somebody please pick my teeth."
Hungry fingers reached out.
In the escalating delirium of Sadie Mae's serially spiraling orgasm, she peered into the chasm of sex­uality.
Took in at once her destiny.
Let her mind go free.
"Let's see," Sadie Mae screeched.
Bubba yanked his long ranger with a strange look in his eyes. Randy cried out loud as he shot another beer down.
"Do it," Sadie Mae choked.
Randy shot two fingers to his nuts to loosen them up.
Readied his weenie.
Took aim at the two girls shivering within their own liquid giggles.
"Suck me, Mercedes. Please. I never knew this was like this—"
Sadie Mae twisted her own clitoris with her fist. Grimaced.
Placed her paws on either side of Mercedes's head. Bent into her.
"Yeow!"
Mercedes sank her fangs into pissing pussy.
Sucked slit.
Kissed pusslips.
Quaffed piss.
Without a blink.
Mercedes cackled and began to glow from below with a liquid halo of her own brew. Pissing sucksis-ters cavorted in gilt-tinged mist.
Randy added his own broth to the stew. He strewed strips of liquid silver in high-flying arcs from his pricktip.
Pizzle scampered over the backs of the two young ladies who drank mixed liquid from each other's cracks. Bubba backed off.
Jacked off.
Blew a wad of cockcome through the air to land upon the tightly entwined tresses of the girls who now bussed each other's breasts.
"Hold onto me, Mercedes. PLease don't let them take me away."
"Don't worry, dollbaby. They'll take you right here. On top of me."

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