"Want me to bury it between my tits?" she asked.

"No, not really," he answered in a bored tone.

Kay felt frustrated. She jerked the rubbery tube and nothing happened. She bent down and kissed it, her big eyes looking up into his for approval, but still no signs of appreciation, and now she was out of ideas. Men weren't suppose to be limp, she told herself in defense of her pride. But the sight of his cock churned up the juices in her own sex box and she was curious about the male apparatus anyway. Usually her brother was jamming it into her mouth, cunt or ass and she never got to examine it like this. She decided on the spot that it was "cute" when it was soft and wrinkled; no big veins popping out and no puffing head dribbling cream, she reasoned.

Since Charles was just standing their doing nothing, she proceeded to give him an examination. She took the soft meat in her hand and closed a tight fist over it for protection and warmth, lifted it and gazed at the wrinkled prunes dangling from the base… cupped them in her other hand and squeezed gently. Then, starting at the tip of his cock, she ran the tip of her tongue down the shaft to his balls and back up again. Charles spread his legs wide apart for her and she used her pink tongue, letting it lounge around his hot and swollen balls, licking and sipping with those pouty red lips of hers. Then she slid the bottom of her tongue back down over the bottom of his heat, feathering it, before her lips formed into a hot, moist circle to clamp firmly around the pulsing head, sucking on it and nursing it wetly.

The oiled and steaming spear slid far back in her mouth, into the slowly gulping throat, and she used those muscles to milk it, swallow on it, draw at it.