She peered down, releasing the breast from her lips with reluctance, but drawn by something far more compelling. Cupping the downy mattress of Bettina's mound with one palm, she kissed the girl's tremulous belly, and wriggled the end of her tongue into the dimpled belly button.

Bettina moved then, twitching at the wet tingle, and Lauralee moved farther down, trailing her lips over creamy skin. There were the labia, pulsing red and symmetrical beneath their covering of glistening fur. The pussy lips seemed to be pulsing, to be awaiting the caress that would bring them leaping and writhing. Lauralee didn't wait any longer. She probed down into the fleecy bush and licked the full and pouting labia. She tasted musk, and exotic spices she couldn't identify, and her own breasts ached with need.

Turning her body and positioning herself between the girl's spread legs, Lauralee slid her palms beneath the dainty cheeks of Bettina's ass, and stared down into the opened pussy. Moaning then, she plunged her feverish face into that adorable crotch, into the silken hair and against the pulsating labia. She drove her extended tongue greedily into them, through their rubbery clinging and into the steamy hole.

As Bettina gasped and rolled her belly, Lauralee exulted. She was doing it, licking another woman's most private part, feeling around the velvet sheath with her tongue and raking her teeth gently against the spongy cunt lips. Using her tongue the way she remembered the girl doing it, Lauralee drilled deeply, and withdrew with quick little curlings.

Her daughter-in-law hunched tempestuously to her mouth, and Lauralee sucked, trying to draw all the honeyed sweetness down her throat. It was slick, wondrous liquid, fantastically intimate juice that taste of love, beautiful, horny love. It bathed her chin and cheeks, and all she could think of was a seedless, ripe pomegranate.