“You want me to eat you out,” I might’ve asked, though I think it was more like a challenge; “I bet you won’t let me eat you out.” It was in response to something she’d said about being a freak; someone who’s sexually uninhibited. It was somewhat of a boast on her part, which I took advantage of. I was only sort of joking and perhaps she was when she accepted the challenge, but she sat back and pulled her pants down.

They could’ve been shorts, but what does it matter. She was on a couch with nothing between me and her bare pussy but a thin layer of cotton. I started rubbing on her clit, through her panties, almost instantly and she almost as instantly started getting wet. I pulled her waistband down a lot quicker than I probably would’ve if I knew it was a sure thing; if we weren’t in a room with other people; her friends; walking around.

There was a guy right there with us, to her left, either on the couch or in a chair just beside it. I don’t remember if I was still rubbing her clit or had already started licking it when he leaned over with a smile to get a closer look. She scolded him in a quasi-angry fashion, telling him to “get the fuck back” or something along those lines, with an exaggerated grimace. She was a ghetto girl, yes, but her looks were just my type.

She was light-skinned; black but probably mixed with Hispanic or something down the heredity line; with a cute face and petite body. She didn’t seem particularly slim; the way she was bending over as she sat back on the couch might’ve even given her two or three belly rolls; but she was far from fat. If not for her personality, she’d be nearly perfect for me. Not that I was trying to be her boyfriend or anything.

All I wanted to do was, as the popular metaphor goes, eat her out and that I was doing. Technically I was licking her clitoris, but I certainly would’ve worked my way down if she didn’t cum (orgasm) so fast. In true dreamworld fashion, her panties, which I’d pulled down but not off, filled with clear nectar, which I slurped up like a happy hummingbird. “Piña colada, baby,” I said as I stood up and that’s just what it tasted like.

I remember asking if she was really a girl (female) before I started. Her agreeing to let me do it as fast as she did; I barely even knew her; seemed too good to be true. She’d laughed and affirmed she was. Afterward when she reminded me of the LBG girl I’d made fun of, I feared she was going to confess to being a male or something, but all she said with a giggle was that she’s her “wife”; whatever that meant.

2024 November 07