really good, you know that, Sheila? Looking at that picture, I can almost reach out and touch the girl, she’s so real, I’d like to pose for an artist, for somebody who could make me look that good.”
Sheila cleared her throat. She felt madness crawling through her veins. There was no history of insanity in the family, but she knew that she was on the verge of setting the precedent. She was so close to Melissa she could smell the salt water that still clung to the girl and, even more powerful, Melissa’s own natural body oils and odors. They were sweet, like rolling in a garden of fragrant flowers, and Sheila felt her head beginning to roll too. Her vision misted, as if heat shimmers were surrounding her on every side, and time after time she willed her nervous hand not to reach out, smooth the tangles from Melissa’s golden hair. The skin, oh, God, the skin. Smooth, tanned, little bubbles of water decorating it. Her hand twitched and she wanted to crawl under a rock, join a nunnery—oh, Jesus, not a nunnery —a monastery —a Trappist monastery —anything —to get away…
“You’re not interested in finding any new models, I guess,” Melissa went on. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, back and forth, and her hips moved inside the towel that appeared to be her only garment. Sheila watched the rise and fall of those ripe haunches and she wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t will herself to do it. Not even when she remembered last night, the whorish way Melissa had responded to Lou on the beach. It couldn’t dim, couldn’t cheapen the passion that swelled inside Sheila, swelled and flamed for this tally, trampy little girl.
“I—uh, I don’t know,” Sheila heard herself saying. “I —maybe…”
Melissa turned, green eyes sparkling like emeralds. “I’d really dig modeling for you, I think. I mean, if you could make me look that good…”
“I” and “me” seemed to be her favorite words. Narcissistic, yes, and hedonistic, really, dumb, but God in heaven, so desirable…
Sheila took the portrait of Claire off the easel. She picked up a blank canvas board. It gave her something to do with her hands. “Are you gonna let me audition?” Melissa asked delightedly. “Oh, wow!” She hurried around, stood beyond the easel, golden hair glowing in the sunlight. “I guess you want to see how I look without my clothes, huh?” she added, and the towel dropped in a flurry at her feet.
She stood naked, tits lifting as she breathed, and Sheila began to moan while her eyes seemed to blur and mist and her fingers clenched tightly on the brush she held, so tightly that the brush handle snapped in two and both pieces fell to the ground. Melissa cupped her lush full tits from beneath, and she held them as if in offering. The nipples were pink and rigid, big round nipples with fat thick teats set squarely at their centers, and those nipples stared at Sheila like earnest pink eyes. Her legs were slightly parted, and the glorious puff of her shaven cunt was on full display. Sheila could see the reddish-pink of the crease, could even see the tiny inner lips framed in the slash, demure hints of the sweetness and pleasure that lurked a little deeper within.
“Stop it,” Sheila whispered. “For the love of Christ, stop it!”
Still cupping her tits, Melissa stepped a pace or two toward Sheila. “Don’t you want to paint me?” she asked, a stray wet lock of hair fallen across her smooth forehead, gold hair against gold skin. “Or would you rather fool around a little?” She let go of her tits and went around the easel. Sheila turned, and Melissa’s hand stretched out. Sheila took that hand in her own and, together, the two girls walked into the ankle-high grass that dotted the bluff overlooking the cove.
Melissa was short, and she had to stand on tiptoes to kiss Sheila, and when she did, her lush full tits rubbed arousal and invitation onto Sheila’s chest. Sheila moaned into, the mouth that covered her own and she embraced Melissa, hands racing down the girl’s bare body. She cupped Melissa’s buttocks, squeezed, marveled at the taut springy resilient flesh. Warm flesh, smooth flesh, still wet from the ocean. She pinched off tiny rolls of baby fat, felt them glide beneath her probing, seeking fingers. Melissa sighed and wriggled against Sheila, and it was a dream come true. God, it was only a dream! Sheila tried to tell herself. None of this was happening! A perky, frisky tongue slipped into Sheila’s mouth, played like a puppy, and Sheila knew that this was no dream sensation. It was real, dear Jesus, it was real and it was happening! To her! To Sheila Diane Ross! She clasped Melissa’s ass and ground her, body against the young blonde’s, giving full rein to her passion and lust.
They sank onto the grass, still kissing and touching. Sheila felt hands on her breasts, hands that caressed the outline of her tits through the loose shirt she wore, hands that wouldn’t be content with caresses, that had to slip inside. Her buttons loosened. Melissa’s fingers touched the bare trembling flesh of her tits. Her nipples were stiff and the young girl’s fingers found them in no time, began to squeeze the sensitive little tips in rhythmic, knowing fashion.
Melissa’s tongue retreated and she rolled over onto her back. Sheila moved up, taking the initiative. Her shirt came loose. She fought free of it, came down upon Melissa bare to the waist, and there was an electric shock as her naked tits came into contact with Melissa’s. Four stiff nipples, four eager tits. And a mouth that was only too willing to accept Sheila’s tongue, to suck it happily while lips and tits rubbed together and excitement roared like a blast furnace inside Sheila’s hungry body.
They came apart slowly. Sheila’s lips hurt, she’d kissed the girl with such intensity. She sat up, rubbing her mouth, looking at Melissa, wondering what all this meant. Melissa sat up too and she brushed Sheila’s nearest breast with the back of her hand. The nipple wobbled as she stroked it, and Sheila could hardly breathe.
Melissa was beaming with smiles. “Did you like that?” she asked. Sheila blushed. “Was it more fun than watching me and Lou last night?”
“What…”
“I saw you peeking out the window,” Melissa added, leaning in closer. She licked Sheila’s neck, and then her tongue glided down Sheila’s breast, onto the reddish peak of one nipple. She flicked it twice, then pulled it into her mouth and sucked. There could be no faking in the smooth, efficient action of her lips. She knew what she was doing and she enjoyed it. So did Sheila.
“Really,” Melissa said, lifting her face and looking into Sheila’s brown eyes, “I could tell the moment I first saw you. You don’t cover your emotions too well. When I closed the fridge door and you were standing there looking at me, well, you were eating me with your mind. And you didn’t take your eyes off me once last night, not even when your sister was crying her heart out. Do I turn you on?”
“A hell of a lot,” Sheila whispered. “A whole hell of a lot.”
“The girl in the picture,” Melissa said, pointing. “Did you use to have a thing with her? I thought so. You painted her as if you loved her. I wish somebody loved me that much, you know? But people just want to fuck me. Are you nice? Really nice, I mean? Or do you just want to fuck me too?”
“I—yes, I’m nice,” Sheila said softly. She put her hands on Melissa’s tits and squeezed. God, the ripeness, the firmness; the heat of the pink nipples against her palms! “And yes I want to fuck you, too. I want you so badly I can taste you right now —all over my face, as if you’re already feeding me on your pussy —I…”
Melissa stood, looking down at Sheila. “And I can feel your tongue in me,” she said, rubbing her slit until it sparkled. Little drops of cum were oozing from her crack. Sheila could see them, smell them, almost taste them. “I bet you’re good,” Melissa added. “I bet you’re good at everything you do. Show me, Sheila. Show me how good.”
“Come here, Goddamn it,” Sheila husked, and she seized Melissa’s legs. Lifting herself, she thrust her face into Melissa’s crotch. Her hands preceded her, split the hairless crack, made room for Sheila’s hot ready tongue. She speared into Melissa and she heard the girl moan in delight, but she couldn’t be half so delighted as Sheila was, getting her first sweet taste of Melissa.
Slowly they came down again, Sheila on her back, Melissa sitting on her face. Sheila had an entire pussy to work with, and it was the pussy of her dreams. She opened it, marveled at the coral pink interior, at the slippery texture of the folds of flesh inside Melissa’s gates, at the redness of the clitoral button that was already erect and hot for the fray. Leaning up, she anointed the clit with her tongue, felt it quiver against her, felt the shudders of joy run through Melissa’s entire body. She squeezed the girl’s ass and started to eat pussy.
Melissa leaned forward, pressing her twat down upon Sheila’s face. “God,” the blonde panted, “you are good at everything! Eat me, darling! Eat me up! Chew me raw! Stick your tongue in my twat! Oh, lick me, lick me, lick me! Suck me sweet and I’ll come all over your pretty face! My God, Sheila, eat me, eat me, eat meeeeeee!”
As for Sheila, she was eating, and it was better even than she had dreamed it could be. The blonde girl’s cunt was delicious, young and fresh and tangy, and her tongue found new taste treats everywhere it roamed. The tube was snug around her tongue and she loved that. She worked one hand loose from Melissa’s ass, got it into the girl’s sweet young snatch from behind, and she poked home with a lustful vengeance. Atop her, Melissa quivered and moaned, and Sheila knew that she wasn’t the only one enjoying this magic moment. Oh, God, she thought, it’s
